Chapter Text
Jab, Slash, Dodge, Blood. Jab, Slash, Dodge Blood. Jab Dodge Blood Slash. Stab Cut, Slash, kill.
Techno knew this was his life, and he was fine with that. The arena he stayed at could be worse, he could be tested on. Instead he just kills innocent creatures in the middle of space. Fun.
He parried across the sand, pushing the pickaxe into the ground behind him. He flung sand into three of the five eyes on his opponent.
They flinched back, eyes blinking a few times. Before the six legged creature whips they're tail at him. Techno barely avoided the stinger on the end, taking a step back and bringing down the pickaxe into the base of it.
Calls and screams come from the stands around them. Techno could never make out shapes or familiar looks. Not from anyone in the stands, except the big one at the head of the arena. Same Alien there everytime. Sometimes there were other aliens around him, but the Ram-like alien was always there.
His opponent makes a buzzing sound, and their chained wings shoots out. They get maybe a foot off the ground before the chains send them to the ground. Techno took a shaky breath and sent the pickaxe into the head of the Alien.
Pale yellow spilled out from the wound onto the ground. The crowd made noise, that techno guessed was cheering.
He looked up at the stands, up towards the Ram. It had a scarily human face, while Techno knew he wasn’t. Techno remembered his home. He knew humans were cruel. And they shared that trait with the Alien before him. But it was the appearance that was the reason he wasn’t human. Horns, ears, shorter than the average human. Closer to a satyr than a human.
Did Ram know he was alive? Sentient? Was this the alien version of dog fights?
Too many questions.
The Voices craved blood. Techno spilled it for them. In return, they kept Techno as close to sane as he could be in a place like this.
Guards came out with electric sticks, the kind they would use in the dinosaur movies his sisters were always watching.
They surrounded him, pointing them at Techno. He dropped the pickaxe and started walking towards a gate. He did this everyday, he knew the drill by now.
The two guards beside him led him down a hall, one following behind with the pick he dropped. He heard the sound of it getting hung on a rack with other weapons.
They fell into another hallway, lined with doors. Behind each were other aliens. Some he would probably fight tomorrow, or the day after, or a month from now.
passing familiar cells towards one. One guard pulled out a card, and slid it into the door he’s entered and exited from for what felt like years.
His guards made sounds, the four legged green one made a few hisses, while the other made a deep breathy growl.
When the door slid open, it was silent for a moment, the green one shoved him into the cell.
Where he was greeted by a guttural scream.