Post by Amber on Feb 2, 2014 14:52:02 GMT -5
Chapter 1
Dark. Everything was dark and silent. This was how I first knew the world; an endless void of black and silence. For the first couple weeks of my life, I did nothing but sleep and nurse. One day, I woke up and I was blinded. Not permanently blinded, but blinded by light. Once my newly opened eyes adjusted to the brightness, I got up and took a few steps in my mom’s direction. She was a thing of beauty and raw power. Her tan and white coat was sleek and her dark brown eyes gleamed when she saw me.
“Mirko! Your eyes opened! What do you think of your home?”
Her question made me take a good look around. My first thought was that it was crowded. My mom, siblings, and I were kept in a rectangular pen with a concrete floor, high chain-link fences on two sides with concrete walls on the other two sides, and a chain-link gate. In the back right corner, there was a tattered pillow and a steel food and water bowl in the other corner. I looked back to my mom.
“It’s ok. I guess.”
I noticed three tiny bundles curled up by my mom’s belly, their eyes and ears not yet opened. She noticed me eyeing them and said,
“Mirko, these are your siblings. Your brothers Lance and Chance and your sister Spiel.”
When I saw Spiel, I loved her instantly. She looked like a photocopy of mom, but smaller. I loved all the pups except for one. Chance. My siblings and I had two different colors in our pelts while Chance’s was pure white. He was different. A few hours after my eyes opened, my siblings saw the world for the first time. Chance had one brown eye and one blue eye while the rest of us had brown or hazel eyes. My siblings seemed to pick up on his differences and he bore the brunt of our jokes. Ok, I admit. I was the ringleader of the assaults on Chance. What? He was an easy target and the pathetic scrap of fur almost never fought back. One day, Chance and I were put into a larger pen. It was a little larger than the one I lived in but it had dirt floors and wooden planks splattered with scarlet paint, or so I thought is was paint. The humans who had placed us there were watching us now. They yelled something and I lunged for him. This was not play fighting. I sunk my unusually long teeth into his back leg and started jerking my head from side to side. He squealed and tried to drag himself away from me, but his front paws scrabbled helplessly, leaving ruts in the ground. I released his leg and he got up. Favoring his hurt leg, he hopped away from me as fast as he could. Then a Keeper said these words to me. “Go on, girl. Finish him.” I obeyed and in one swift movement, disemboweled him. I looked at them to see their reaction. They were all smiles and cheered. One of them reached down and picked me up.
“This one shows the most promise out of the litter. Note the impressive size of her teeth.”
My mom always praised me for my teeth, saying they were just like my father’s. My two canine teeth were two or so inches longer than average and poked out of my upper lip, making me look somewhat like a saber tooth cat. Then one of the other Keepers said something else.
“Fang.”
Chapter 2
A few months after my ‘naming ceremony’ I was put into my first real fight. I looked at my opponent. He was a Rottweiler who was about three times bigger than me. His muscles were huge! I had heard rumors that The Keepers pumped steroids into some of the dog’s muscles to make them bigger and stronger. Had this been done to him? Before I had time to ponder, the bell sounded and the hunk of a male charged me. His bloodshot eyes were crazed and foam dripped from his open mouth. I easily sidestepped his attack and he skidded to a stop. He turned around slowly and glared at me.
“Nice move, pup. You just got lucky.” He said.
His voice was deep and had flatness to it.
“You were too slow Pug Mug.” I sneered.
Pug Mug is probably the worst insult a dog can call another dog. He let out what sounded like a cross between a growl and a snarl and leaped. Before I could move, he landed on top of me and his impressive weight rendered me helpless. His nose was just inches from mine and in a lowered voice, he hissed.
“Say that one more time, you flea-ridden rat.”
“Puggy Muggy has a brain the size of a Buggy Wuggy.”
His head snapped forward in an attempt to shut me up for good, but I moved my head to the side. Striking out at his soft underbelly with my hind legs, I somehow managed to get myself out from under him while doing some major damage in the process. The Keepers were shouting now. “C’mon Tank, are you going to let a pup defeat you?” My muscles tensed as I prepared to lunge. “Fang! Use those daggers of yours!” I saw Tank’s bloodshot eyes studying my saber teeth. I opened my mouth in a snarl to show him that I had more just like them. For the first time he seemed to show some submission. “F-Fang t-the goddess of us all, p-please be merciful! I beg of-” He didn’t have time to finish is pathetic plea. I had sprung and sunk my teeth deep into the life-giving artery. He was dead before he hit the ground. This was my first fight, and yet everyone knew who I was, and they feared me. The good that rumors will do for your reputation. I placed a paw on his broken body and let loose a victory howl. My metamorphosis from an innocent pup to a bloodthirsty sociopath was complete. I was no longer Mirko the Meek. Now, I was Fang the Goddess.
Chapter 3
A few days after defeating Tank, I was put up in the ring again. I pulled hard on my leash, barking out my frustration at not being able to rip and shred. My opponent was not a full grown dog, but a mere pup. A female Dogo Argentino, who was no more than five or six months old. The thing looked terrified and when she saw me, her eyes widened and backed up until her rear was pressed against the wooden planks. I grinned and lunged at the pup. She screamed as I grabbed her scruff and shook her hard before flinging her clear across the ring. Bloody and battered, she got to her feet and ran at me. I felt sharp teeth pierce my leg. I grunted and plucked her off. I just stood there with the bundle in my jaws. She randomly swatted her paws in all directions, hoping to hit something.
“You scared?” She asked me, panting.
“Oh yeah. You frighten me.” I replied back sarcastically.
She seemed to take my response literally.
“Good.”
“Do you know who I am, Pup?”
She twisted her head around to look me in the eye.
“No…”
As if recalling a story, her eyes widened and she once more twisted her head around to look at me.
“Fang.”
“That’s right, sweetie.”
With that, I dropped her, placed a heavy paw on her chest, bent down, and ripped her throat out. That was too easy. Easier than killing Chance. I was upset that I was given a weak opponent. I needed a challenge. Once more victorious, I strutted out of the ring with my head and tail high. I glared at the other dogs as I passed them. They were foolish if they dared to challenge me. I smiled as one dog after the other lowered their bodies to the ground, tucked their tails, with their eyes downcast. I was only a year old, and yet, I could send a dog three or four times older than me scuttle away with just a glance. Cowards. I became a tool that moms would use to get their disobedient pups to behave. I was sort of like the Slenderman or Boogeyman of dogs. They would say, “If you don’t behave, Fang will come get you.” How did this make me feel? Like I had all the power in the world. Little did I know it, but my string of victories would be tested. I was now two years old and I was a force to be reckoned with. I had as of now, forty-five wins and no losses. Most of those wins were minor, as my opponents were either pups or dogs such as Huskies and Labradors that were big, but didn’t have the raw power that we Fighting Dogs were simply born with. I tend to “toy with” my victims before dealing the final blow. The Keepers seemed to enjoy this as much as I did. It was this one particular day that put my strength to the test.
Chapter 4
I stared at my opponent from across the ring, sizing him up. He was a male, had white fur splotched with grey and eyes that looked like they belonged to a wolf. I glared at him, he glared at me. The bell. We both rushed out and collided in the middle and started wrestling. He had my scruff in his jaws while I had his leg in mine. Crunch, snap! I automatically bit down with the bite pressure of an alligator, snapping the bone in two. He released his grip on my scruff, but didn’t make a sound to let me know the magnitude of the damage I’d just inflicted. Either he had a really high pain threshold or he learned not to show any sign of weakness. Despite the recent handicap, he somehow managed to flip me over. We made eye contact and I lifted my lips, flashing my teeth. Did he flinch? No. I was appalled. How was he not scared of me? Surely he knew who I was, surely. He had a paw on my throat. Every time I tried to taunt or insult him, he’d just press down and I ended up gagging. When I looked into those wolf eyes, I could clearly read his emotions. Pain, sadness, and… and… there was something else that I couldn’t identify; yet I felt something strange. What was this new emotion? I had no idea and it scared me. I was just about to speak when the world turned black.
Was I dead?
Did I bleed out in the ring?
Was I asleep?
Did I faint?
What the heck just happened?
Where am I?
Chapter 5
I woke up in a pen with my mother and two other siblings. My neck itched. When I tried to scratch it, my nails scraped against plastic. My mom told me that my opponent had a huge chunk of flesh from my neck. I would have bled out if one of The Keepers had not suddenly ended the fight, picked me up, and rushed off with me. She said I had fainted from the loss of blood. Once I was fully conscious, I saw the scarring that my siblings had suffered. Lance was missing a hind leg, an ear, and had a horrific scar running from across his left eye to his tail while Spiel was missing an eye, her cropped ears were shredded at the edges, and half her tail was missing. Mom was missing half of her right fore arm; both her ears were nothing but nubs of shredded flesh, and her eyes had been gouged out. I gaped at the empty sockets.
“Mom! You… What… How… When…”
She stopped me and let out a sad sigh.
“Mirko, I lost them in a fight that The Keepers put me in the week after you and your siblings were taken away from me.”
“Who. Did. This. To. You.”
“Oh, dear. Let’s see. He was a German Shepherd. His eyes were as black as his fur. I think his name was Blanc.”
If I ever encountered that mutt in the ring, I would make sure that his death be as slow and painful as possible. I tuned to my siblings.
“Lance, Spiel.”
They straightened up as I called on them.
“Report. State win to loose ratio.”
Spiel stepped forward. Her tail held high.
“35 to 2.”
I nodded. Acceptable. She smiled then stepped back, then nudged Lance forward. He looked a little less confident.
“30 to 7.”
As if sensing my anger, his tail went in between his legs.
“Mirko, please! You wouldn’t. Not your own brother.”
My lips peeled back. This was not to be tolerated. I would need to give him a warning. I lunged.
“UNACCEPTABLE!”
I pinned him and dragged my teeth slowly across his neck. It wasn’t deep enough to kill, but it was deep enough to draw blood and leave a nasty scar.
“You better shape up. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”
I got off him and he scurried back to Spiel.
“What do The Keepers call you?”
Spiel, once again stepped forward.
“Vendetta. Venn for short.”
Then Lance stepped forward.
“Soldier.”
It was acceptable, I guess. This was me now. General of the army, taking crap from no one.
Chapter 6
I was just getting settled when a Keeper opened the gate to our pen, hooked a leash on me, and led me out. I was led into a ring that was smaller than the Fight Ring and lacked the blood-splattered planks, but the vibe I got from it made me uneasy. What was this place and why was I here? The Keeper who was holding my leash tied it to a metal pole in the middle of the ring. Why? I sniffed the air. I wasn’t alone. Three males were in the same room as I was. I didn’t think about that much. Until they were put in the ring with me. I recognized one of them. That male who nearly killed me in the ring, another one had a Brindle pelt, while the last one had a black pelt and had eyes like Lance and teeth like mine. My father. I did not want to be here. Not at all. Brindle was the first to make any sort of move. He tore free from his restraint and sped in my direction. I prepared myself. I felt teeth in my scruff, but only for a second. I whipped around to see that Wolf Eyes had dragged him away from me and was gutting him. My father took this chance and advanced in my direction, grinning. It was creepy. This didn’t feel right. He stopped in front of me and licked my cheek.
“Fang.”
“Get away from me!”
“Ah, no can do, miss.”
I shivered. What did he mean? What did he… I put the pieces together. I remember hearing that the best male and female fighters were separated from the rest of the dogs and… and… it was happening to me now! No! My dad flipped me over and as he bent down to lick my ear, I dug my teeth into his throat and yanked. Blood, like a red, hot, sticky river, flowed out of the hole where his vocal chords once were. I then finished him off. Sick bastard. The red stuff landed on my chest and face. Wolf Eyes was the only one left. I looked at him.
“Well? Come and get me. You won.”
He shook his head.
“Not like this.”
He walked my way and before I knew it, his tongue was gently caressing my fur. Cleaning me. He was cleaning me of my father’s blood.
“Why didn’t you kill me in the ring?”
“I just couldn’t. I loved you from the moment I saw you, Fang.”
He knew my name!
“Then why did you rip out a chunk of my throat?”
“To please The Keepers.”
“Don’t we all want to please them?”
He chuckled.
“At least, every good fight dog wants to.”
“Yeah. I never got your name.”
“Phoenix.”
“I was calling you Wolf Eyes.”
My fur felt hot. He stopped cleaning and looked at me.
“Why?”
“Your eyes look like they belong to a wolf.”
He laughed.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Phoenix looked at me, his head tilted.
“No wonder everyone’s terrified of you. Your teeth look like they belong to a Vampire or a Saber Tooth Cat.”
“Want to know something?”
“Yeah, sure. What is it?”
“Fang isn’t my real name.”
His golden eyes widened.
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then what’s your real name?”
“Mirko.”
Chapter 7
Phoenix. Phoenix was a great name. I caught myself on multiple occasions thinking about him. His striking eyes, his deep, soothing voice, his white and grey fur, his- I shook my head. I was a fighter, not a lover. I was back in the pen with my family. Spiel was telling a great story about how she ripped a Doberman to shreds and Lance was hunched over in a corner. Mom had been led out of the pen by a Keeper. That was two hours ago and she still wasn’t back. Where was she? Just then, I heard a series of loud bangs of a gun and a dog’s whimper. Soon after, I saw a Keeper, the same one who took mom away; walk by with a lump of something wrapped in a trash bag in his arms. It wasn’t until I saw the tail that I put two and two together. Mom! I barked and barked. “Mom! Mom! The Keeper is carrying you! Do something!” No response from the lump. I looked at the lump again. Some kind liquid soaked the body. I looked closer. It had kind of a red tint to it and smelled metallic… No! It was blood! Feeling like I had been stabbed in the heart, I turned away and staggered over to where my mom’s bed was and collapsed. Spiel walked over to me.
“Mirko. Are you ok?”
“No. Mom’s dead. They shot her.”
Spiel’s eyes clouded over.
“Why does everyone I love end up dead?”
She was talking out loud to herself.
“First Sangre and now mom.”
“Who was Sangre?” I asked her.
Spiel looked at me, grief stricken.
“Sangre was my mate. He was the most hansom German Shepherd you would ever see. I didn’t have a chance to tell him that I was expecting his pups.”
I sat beside her and licked her shoulder.
“Oh, Spiel. I’m so sorry. What happened to him?”
“He was ripped apart in the ring. By a Cane Corso.”
I growled. Another dog to add to my hit list.
“Description?”
“He is missing an ear and talks in third person. His fur is brindle. His name is Hangman.”
I shivered. I had heard of him. He was just as powerful and fearsome as I was, if not more so. He wore a spike collar and had steroid pumped muscles. Rumor has it that his teeth had been filed to a sharp point and serrated to resemble shark’s teeth. Blanc and now Hangman. I would not rest until I had seen the life fade from their eyes.
Dark. Everything was dark and silent. This was how I first knew the world; an endless void of black and silence. For the first couple weeks of my life, I did nothing but sleep and nurse. One day, I woke up and I was blinded. Not permanently blinded, but blinded by light. Once my newly opened eyes adjusted to the brightness, I got up and took a few steps in my mom’s direction. She was a thing of beauty and raw power. Her tan and white coat was sleek and her dark brown eyes gleamed when she saw me.
“Mirko! Your eyes opened! What do you think of your home?”
Her question made me take a good look around. My first thought was that it was crowded. My mom, siblings, and I were kept in a rectangular pen with a concrete floor, high chain-link fences on two sides with concrete walls on the other two sides, and a chain-link gate. In the back right corner, there was a tattered pillow and a steel food and water bowl in the other corner. I looked back to my mom.
“It’s ok. I guess.”
I noticed three tiny bundles curled up by my mom’s belly, their eyes and ears not yet opened. She noticed me eyeing them and said,
“Mirko, these are your siblings. Your brothers Lance and Chance and your sister Spiel.”
When I saw Spiel, I loved her instantly. She looked like a photocopy of mom, but smaller. I loved all the pups except for one. Chance. My siblings and I had two different colors in our pelts while Chance’s was pure white. He was different. A few hours after my eyes opened, my siblings saw the world for the first time. Chance had one brown eye and one blue eye while the rest of us had brown or hazel eyes. My siblings seemed to pick up on his differences and he bore the brunt of our jokes. Ok, I admit. I was the ringleader of the assaults on Chance. What? He was an easy target and the pathetic scrap of fur almost never fought back. One day, Chance and I were put into a larger pen. It was a little larger than the one I lived in but it had dirt floors and wooden planks splattered with scarlet paint, or so I thought is was paint. The humans who had placed us there were watching us now. They yelled something and I lunged for him. This was not play fighting. I sunk my unusually long teeth into his back leg and started jerking my head from side to side. He squealed and tried to drag himself away from me, but his front paws scrabbled helplessly, leaving ruts in the ground. I released his leg and he got up. Favoring his hurt leg, he hopped away from me as fast as he could. Then a Keeper said these words to me. “Go on, girl. Finish him.” I obeyed and in one swift movement, disemboweled him. I looked at them to see their reaction. They were all smiles and cheered. One of them reached down and picked me up.
“This one shows the most promise out of the litter. Note the impressive size of her teeth.”
My mom always praised me for my teeth, saying they were just like my father’s. My two canine teeth were two or so inches longer than average and poked out of my upper lip, making me look somewhat like a saber tooth cat. Then one of the other Keepers said something else.
“Fang.”
Chapter 2
A few months after my ‘naming ceremony’ I was put into my first real fight. I looked at my opponent. He was a Rottweiler who was about three times bigger than me. His muscles were huge! I had heard rumors that The Keepers pumped steroids into some of the dog’s muscles to make them bigger and stronger. Had this been done to him? Before I had time to ponder, the bell sounded and the hunk of a male charged me. His bloodshot eyes were crazed and foam dripped from his open mouth. I easily sidestepped his attack and he skidded to a stop. He turned around slowly and glared at me.
“Nice move, pup. You just got lucky.” He said.
His voice was deep and had flatness to it.
“You were too slow Pug Mug.” I sneered.
Pug Mug is probably the worst insult a dog can call another dog. He let out what sounded like a cross between a growl and a snarl and leaped. Before I could move, he landed on top of me and his impressive weight rendered me helpless. His nose was just inches from mine and in a lowered voice, he hissed.
“Say that one more time, you flea-ridden rat.”
“Puggy Muggy has a brain the size of a Buggy Wuggy.”
His head snapped forward in an attempt to shut me up for good, but I moved my head to the side. Striking out at his soft underbelly with my hind legs, I somehow managed to get myself out from under him while doing some major damage in the process. The Keepers were shouting now. “C’mon Tank, are you going to let a pup defeat you?” My muscles tensed as I prepared to lunge. “Fang! Use those daggers of yours!” I saw Tank’s bloodshot eyes studying my saber teeth. I opened my mouth in a snarl to show him that I had more just like them. For the first time he seemed to show some submission. “F-Fang t-the goddess of us all, p-please be merciful! I beg of-” He didn’t have time to finish is pathetic plea. I had sprung and sunk my teeth deep into the life-giving artery. He was dead before he hit the ground. This was my first fight, and yet everyone knew who I was, and they feared me. The good that rumors will do for your reputation. I placed a paw on his broken body and let loose a victory howl. My metamorphosis from an innocent pup to a bloodthirsty sociopath was complete. I was no longer Mirko the Meek. Now, I was Fang the Goddess.
Chapter 3
A few days after defeating Tank, I was put up in the ring again. I pulled hard on my leash, barking out my frustration at not being able to rip and shred. My opponent was not a full grown dog, but a mere pup. A female Dogo Argentino, who was no more than five or six months old. The thing looked terrified and when she saw me, her eyes widened and backed up until her rear was pressed against the wooden planks. I grinned and lunged at the pup. She screamed as I grabbed her scruff and shook her hard before flinging her clear across the ring. Bloody and battered, she got to her feet and ran at me. I felt sharp teeth pierce my leg. I grunted and plucked her off. I just stood there with the bundle in my jaws. She randomly swatted her paws in all directions, hoping to hit something.
“You scared?” She asked me, panting.
“Oh yeah. You frighten me.” I replied back sarcastically.
She seemed to take my response literally.
“Good.”
“Do you know who I am, Pup?”
She twisted her head around to look me in the eye.
“No…”
As if recalling a story, her eyes widened and she once more twisted her head around to look at me.
“Fang.”
“That’s right, sweetie.”
With that, I dropped her, placed a heavy paw on her chest, bent down, and ripped her throat out. That was too easy. Easier than killing Chance. I was upset that I was given a weak opponent. I needed a challenge. Once more victorious, I strutted out of the ring with my head and tail high. I glared at the other dogs as I passed them. They were foolish if they dared to challenge me. I smiled as one dog after the other lowered their bodies to the ground, tucked their tails, with their eyes downcast. I was only a year old, and yet, I could send a dog three or four times older than me scuttle away with just a glance. Cowards. I became a tool that moms would use to get their disobedient pups to behave. I was sort of like the Slenderman or Boogeyman of dogs. They would say, “If you don’t behave, Fang will come get you.” How did this make me feel? Like I had all the power in the world. Little did I know it, but my string of victories would be tested. I was now two years old and I was a force to be reckoned with. I had as of now, forty-five wins and no losses. Most of those wins were minor, as my opponents were either pups or dogs such as Huskies and Labradors that were big, but didn’t have the raw power that we Fighting Dogs were simply born with. I tend to “toy with” my victims before dealing the final blow. The Keepers seemed to enjoy this as much as I did. It was this one particular day that put my strength to the test.
Chapter 4
I stared at my opponent from across the ring, sizing him up. He was a male, had white fur splotched with grey and eyes that looked like they belonged to a wolf. I glared at him, he glared at me. The bell. We both rushed out and collided in the middle and started wrestling. He had my scruff in his jaws while I had his leg in mine. Crunch, snap! I automatically bit down with the bite pressure of an alligator, snapping the bone in two. He released his grip on my scruff, but didn’t make a sound to let me know the magnitude of the damage I’d just inflicted. Either he had a really high pain threshold or he learned not to show any sign of weakness. Despite the recent handicap, he somehow managed to flip me over. We made eye contact and I lifted my lips, flashing my teeth. Did he flinch? No. I was appalled. How was he not scared of me? Surely he knew who I was, surely. He had a paw on my throat. Every time I tried to taunt or insult him, he’d just press down and I ended up gagging. When I looked into those wolf eyes, I could clearly read his emotions. Pain, sadness, and… and… there was something else that I couldn’t identify; yet I felt something strange. What was this new emotion? I had no idea and it scared me. I was just about to speak when the world turned black.
Was I dead?
Did I bleed out in the ring?
Was I asleep?
Did I faint?
What the heck just happened?
Where am I?
Chapter 5
I woke up in a pen with my mother and two other siblings. My neck itched. When I tried to scratch it, my nails scraped against plastic. My mom told me that my opponent had a huge chunk of flesh from my neck. I would have bled out if one of The Keepers had not suddenly ended the fight, picked me up, and rushed off with me. She said I had fainted from the loss of blood. Once I was fully conscious, I saw the scarring that my siblings had suffered. Lance was missing a hind leg, an ear, and had a horrific scar running from across his left eye to his tail while Spiel was missing an eye, her cropped ears were shredded at the edges, and half her tail was missing. Mom was missing half of her right fore arm; both her ears were nothing but nubs of shredded flesh, and her eyes had been gouged out. I gaped at the empty sockets.
“Mom! You… What… How… When…”
She stopped me and let out a sad sigh.
“Mirko, I lost them in a fight that The Keepers put me in the week after you and your siblings were taken away from me.”
“Who. Did. This. To. You.”
“Oh, dear. Let’s see. He was a German Shepherd. His eyes were as black as his fur. I think his name was Blanc.”
If I ever encountered that mutt in the ring, I would make sure that his death be as slow and painful as possible. I tuned to my siblings.
“Lance, Spiel.”
They straightened up as I called on them.
“Report. State win to loose ratio.”
Spiel stepped forward. Her tail held high.
“35 to 2.”
I nodded. Acceptable. She smiled then stepped back, then nudged Lance forward. He looked a little less confident.
“30 to 7.”
As if sensing my anger, his tail went in between his legs.
“Mirko, please! You wouldn’t. Not your own brother.”
My lips peeled back. This was not to be tolerated. I would need to give him a warning. I lunged.
“UNACCEPTABLE!”
I pinned him and dragged my teeth slowly across his neck. It wasn’t deep enough to kill, but it was deep enough to draw blood and leave a nasty scar.
“You better shape up. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”
I got off him and he scurried back to Spiel.
“What do The Keepers call you?”
Spiel, once again stepped forward.
“Vendetta. Venn for short.”
Then Lance stepped forward.
“Soldier.”
It was acceptable, I guess. This was me now. General of the army, taking crap from no one.
Chapter 6
I was just getting settled when a Keeper opened the gate to our pen, hooked a leash on me, and led me out. I was led into a ring that was smaller than the Fight Ring and lacked the blood-splattered planks, but the vibe I got from it made me uneasy. What was this place and why was I here? The Keeper who was holding my leash tied it to a metal pole in the middle of the ring. Why? I sniffed the air. I wasn’t alone. Three males were in the same room as I was. I didn’t think about that much. Until they were put in the ring with me. I recognized one of them. That male who nearly killed me in the ring, another one had a Brindle pelt, while the last one had a black pelt and had eyes like Lance and teeth like mine. My father. I did not want to be here. Not at all. Brindle was the first to make any sort of move. He tore free from his restraint and sped in my direction. I prepared myself. I felt teeth in my scruff, but only for a second. I whipped around to see that Wolf Eyes had dragged him away from me and was gutting him. My father took this chance and advanced in my direction, grinning. It was creepy. This didn’t feel right. He stopped in front of me and licked my cheek.
“Fang.”
“Get away from me!”
“Ah, no can do, miss.”
I shivered. What did he mean? What did he… I put the pieces together. I remember hearing that the best male and female fighters were separated from the rest of the dogs and… and… it was happening to me now! No! My dad flipped me over and as he bent down to lick my ear, I dug my teeth into his throat and yanked. Blood, like a red, hot, sticky river, flowed out of the hole where his vocal chords once were. I then finished him off. Sick bastard. The red stuff landed on my chest and face. Wolf Eyes was the only one left. I looked at him.
“Well? Come and get me. You won.”
He shook his head.
“Not like this.”
He walked my way and before I knew it, his tongue was gently caressing my fur. Cleaning me. He was cleaning me of my father’s blood.
“Why didn’t you kill me in the ring?”
“I just couldn’t. I loved you from the moment I saw you, Fang.”
He knew my name!
“Then why did you rip out a chunk of my throat?”
“To please The Keepers.”
“Don’t we all want to please them?”
He chuckled.
“At least, every good fight dog wants to.”
“Yeah. I never got your name.”
“Phoenix.”
“I was calling you Wolf Eyes.”
My fur felt hot. He stopped cleaning and looked at me.
“Why?”
“Your eyes look like they belong to a wolf.”
He laughed.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Phoenix looked at me, his head tilted.
“No wonder everyone’s terrified of you. Your teeth look like they belong to a Vampire or a Saber Tooth Cat.”
“Want to know something?”
“Yeah, sure. What is it?”
“Fang isn’t my real name.”
His golden eyes widened.
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then what’s your real name?”
“Mirko.”
Chapter 7
Phoenix. Phoenix was a great name. I caught myself on multiple occasions thinking about him. His striking eyes, his deep, soothing voice, his white and grey fur, his- I shook my head. I was a fighter, not a lover. I was back in the pen with my family. Spiel was telling a great story about how she ripped a Doberman to shreds and Lance was hunched over in a corner. Mom had been led out of the pen by a Keeper. That was two hours ago and she still wasn’t back. Where was she? Just then, I heard a series of loud bangs of a gun and a dog’s whimper. Soon after, I saw a Keeper, the same one who took mom away; walk by with a lump of something wrapped in a trash bag in his arms. It wasn’t until I saw the tail that I put two and two together. Mom! I barked and barked. “Mom! Mom! The Keeper is carrying you! Do something!” No response from the lump. I looked at the lump again. Some kind liquid soaked the body. I looked closer. It had kind of a red tint to it and smelled metallic… No! It was blood! Feeling like I had been stabbed in the heart, I turned away and staggered over to where my mom’s bed was and collapsed. Spiel walked over to me.
“Mirko. Are you ok?”
“No. Mom’s dead. They shot her.”
Spiel’s eyes clouded over.
“Why does everyone I love end up dead?”
She was talking out loud to herself.
“First Sangre and now mom.”
“Who was Sangre?” I asked her.
Spiel looked at me, grief stricken.
“Sangre was my mate. He was the most hansom German Shepherd you would ever see. I didn’t have a chance to tell him that I was expecting his pups.”
I sat beside her and licked her shoulder.
“Oh, Spiel. I’m so sorry. What happened to him?”
“He was ripped apart in the ring. By a Cane Corso.”
I growled. Another dog to add to my hit list.
“Description?”
“He is missing an ear and talks in third person. His fur is brindle. His name is Hangman.”
I shivered. I had heard of him. He was just as powerful and fearsome as I was, if not more so. He wore a spike collar and had steroid pumped muscles. Rumor has it that his teeth had been filed to a sharp point and serrated to resemble shark’s teeth. Blanc and now Hangman. I would not rest until I had seen the life fade from their eyes.
