And the muffled screams … desperation, terror, anger, despair, agony — and the roar of many hundreds of voices, rising and falling, sometimes in approval, sometimes in disappointment ...
After so long trapped in your sterile, soundproofed glass tank, it's an assault on your senses. You pace restlessly, sniffing over every inch of this new space, your long tail bristled and lashing in agitation. Metal, this one, with layer upon layer of old bloodstains baked into the floor. There's a door, shut for now — that's where the noises are coming from. Distant as they sound, they're too close to comfort. You don't want to know what's on the other side.
There's a sudden silence.
The roar becomes a cacophony. You don't like it. You don't like it, you want out, but there's nowhere to go. Nowhere … until, some ten minutes later, the door hisses and slides open, revealing a passageway leading vaguely upwards. You like that even less. It's too loud on the other side, too loud, too loud, you don't know what's waiting for you, you don't want to know, but in this — as in all things — you're not given a choice. The collar around your neck gives you a warning zap, but it's the floor that shocks you for real, a sharp burst of pain that makes you yelp.
It shocks you again and again and again until finally, you give in, stalking up the passageway ...
… and right out into a sci-fi alien gladiator arena, surrounded by a cheering crowd of hundreds. The door shuts behind you. A little being, a four legged (deertaur-like) creature clutching a bladed spear stands opposite, prancing anxiously in place. When it sees that you're off guard, overwhelmed by the vastness of this space, the crowds, the lights, it rushes for you with a cry, spear held aloft.
It never gets close. It's pure instinct to lash out, and one swing of your powerful, spiked tail crumples the creature like tissue.
The next creature fares no better.
You try to fly, to get at the crowds, to get away, but the moment you're a dozen feet from the dirty, blood-stained arena floor, your collar activates, searing electricity sending you crashing back down. You try again. You try again. The sixth creature they pit against you — larger, stronger, and smarter than the others — tries to take advantage, leaping for you while you're twitching on the ground. You grapple, snapping and snarling, and it dies pinned beneath you, your teeth buried in its throat.
You're exhausted, blood dripping in sticky rivulets down your foreleg; the creature you just killed got lucky with its spear. You want to stop.
The memory ends as your seventh opponent steps out into the arena.
Notes Big dragon It's hard to get a good look at the crowd, but while bipedal, they're not human. Likewise, none of the other creatures she's pitted against are humans. Only aliens and alien creatures here.
10 - cw blood, death, and specifically the death of alien creatures
Pain.
Blood.
And the muffled screams … desperation, terror, anger, despair, agony — and the roar of many hundreds of voices, rising and falling, sometimes in approval, sometimes in disappointment ...
After so long trapped in your sterile, soundproofed glass tank, it's an assault on your senses. You pace restlessly, sniffing over every inch of this new space, your long tail bristled and lashing in agitation. Metal, this one, with layer upon layer of old bloodstains baked into the floor. There's a door, shut for now — that's where the noises are coming from. Distant as they sound, they're too close to comfort. You don't want to know what's on the other side.
There's a sudden silence.
The roar becomes a cacophony. You don't like it. You don't like it, you want out, but there's nowhere to go. Nowhere … until, some ten minutes later, the door hisses and slides open, revealing a passageway leading vaguely upwards. You like that even less. It's too loud on the other side, too loud, too loud, you don't know what's waiting for you, you don't want to know, but in this — as in all things — you're not given a choice. The collar around your neck gives you a warning zap, but it's the floor that shocks you for real, a sharp burst of pain that makes you yelp.
It shocks you again and again and again until finally, you give in, stalking up the passageway ...
… and right out into a sci-fi alien gladiator arena, surrounded by a cheering crowd of hundreds. The door shuts behind you. A little being, a four legged (deertaur-like) creature clutching a bladed spear stands opposite, prancing anxiously in place. When it sees that you're off guard, overwhelmed by the vastness of this space, the crowds, the lights, it rushes for you with a cry, spear held aloft.
It never gets close. It's pure instinct to lash out, and one swing of your powerful, spiked tail crumples the creature like tissue.
The next creature fares no better.
You try to fly, to get at the crowds, to get away, but the moment you're a dozen feet from the dirty, blood-stained arena floor, your collar activates, searing electricity sending you crashing back down. You try again. You try again. The sixth creature they pit against you — larger, stronger, and smarter than the others — tries to take advantage, leaping for you while you're twitching on the ground. You grapple, snapping and snarling, and it dies pinned beneath you, your teeth buried in its throat.
You're exhausted, blood dripping in sticky rivulets down your foreleg; the creature you just killed got lucky with its spear. You want to stop.
The memory ends as your seventh opponent steps out into the arena.
Notes
Big dragon
It's hard to get a good look at the crowd, but while bipedal, they're not human.
Likewise, none of the other creatures she's pitted against are humans. Only aliens and alien creatures here.