“Can you guys not smell him from over there?” said the one who had whispered to his friend about Kid’s stench.
“Oh, I smell him all right. It’s not going to keep me from fucking him, though.”
“I’m still a person,” Kid said, despite his attempts at holding his emotions in. But considering he was already in the middle of this, and it looked like they were going to have their way with him regardless, he didn’t see a reason to hold back.
The room silenced, and Rand turned to Kid, his mouth hanging open.
“Rand, are you going to let him talk to us like that?” a voice cried out from the room of spectators.
Rand approached Kid, moving slowly, assessing Kid’s body, studying him the way one of the johns at Jerry’s would have studied him.
“He can talk however he wants,” Rand said. “It’s not going to change what we do to him, how we’d rip him apart.” He stepped in front of Kid and squatted down so he could look him in the eyes.
“You’re not a very respectful mortal, are you? Here you are, surrounded by greatness, with this indignant look in your eyes, when you should be praising us, getting down on your knees and sucking each of our cocks because you’re so appreciative to be in the presence of the Almighty’s greatest creations…some of us at least.” He delivered that last line, not to Kid, but to his peers, his chuckling audience. “Since you are new to immortal matters, clearly, by the fact that you’re here, let me tell you exactly how things work in our little nest. There’s a hierarchy. Everyone has their place in this hierarchy. You, as a mortal, are of the lowest order, much like some of the flits. So we will treat you the same as we would any of them.”
Rand turned away from Kid and held his arm out, as though he was presenting Kid to everyone. “So who is interested in competing?”
Competing?Kid thought. The seated immortals bashed their fists against the tables, syncing up so they made a hammering sound that filled the room and echoed across the walls. Each time the sound thundered through the room, Kid started. He could tell by the way they created this sound together that they did it often. It reminded him of the way fans might have done the wave at a stadium. It was a familiar tradition for them.
“I want in,” the immortal who had been so repulsed by Kid’s odor said as he stood at the other side of the room.
Another rose to his feet. “He might smell like trash, but a hole is a hole.”
“Wait,” Trey said. “What the fuck is going on?”
“It’s a little initiation ceremony,” Rand explained. “A welcome party we hold for those lower than the highest order. The flits and now the mortals, it seems, are fought for in a competition. I would think you would like this, oh, great and mighty Trey. The immortals will battle for a chance to win your mortal fair and square. If you compete and win, no one will be permitted to do anything to disturb the two of you. You will be left totally alone with him, in peace, barring the usual scuffles one would expect in a place like this, of course. But he will be recognized as yours, not only by the prisoners here, but the guards too.”
Kid didn’t like the idea of being someone’s property, but if he was going to be anyone’s, he’d want to be Trey’s.
“And if I lose?” Treycore asked. “Some other bastard gets him, that’s what you’re telling me?”
“Of course.”
“You guys are fucked up.”
Rand laughed. “Oh, so easy for someone so new to imprisonment to say. Must be strange to have fallen so far from your seat in Heaven, but let me assure you, we have found whole new ways of being totally and utterly mad. Because here, there is only isolation and solitude, and we’ve learned these things breed the most disturbing of mental states, ones we’re eager to share with you, Treycore. Now I think you’ve already realized you don’t have a choice with this. You must fight unless you want your mortal to be taken by any of the eager immortals who stand up to fill him up in the cruelest and most sadistic of ways. I can’t imagine a mortal will heal as quickly as you.”
“I’ll fight,” Trey said, his tone weak, resigned, as though the last thing he wanted in all the realms was more fighting, as though he was simply tired of it.
Kid wanted to stop him. There were so many immortals in the room, obviously stronger than Trey. He could get hurt, but Kid knew their options were limited. If Trey didn’t fight, Kid wasn’t sure he would survive being at the hands of one of those monsters, who would likely take his hole with far less consideration or care than Trey, and judging by a quick glance at the sizes around the room, something that would surely kill him.
Rand snickered. “So now that you’ve shown your interest, our magnificent Trey, is there anyone else who would like to join against the most beautiful of the male higherlings, the second most beautiful in all creation? Step in, not simply to win this lowly whore of his, but for a chance to beat the ever-loving shit out of the one we’ve all wanted to cream within since his birth, since his creation.”
Kid hated Rand’s pitch, his condescension toward Trey. And he hated knowing they were in a room filled with beings who wanted nothing more than to cut him down to size. They didn’t know Trey, didn’t understand him, not the way Kid did.
Two more immortals, impressive Goliaths, rose from their seats, and two of the previous volunteers sat down promptly.
Rand turned to Kid, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Oh, mortal. You don’t realize what a great fight you have made. So interesting that even the lowest of all creations can generate such interest. You are our own Helen of Troy, a disgusting piece of shit that these—the most incredible of beings, including the most magnificent of any creature in this place or beyond these walls—will fight for. Oh, gentlemen…and ladies,” Rand said evoking a few more laughs, “this is going to be a beautiful fight. Such a shame I can’t offer a better prize to the victor than this smelly bitch.”
Rand approached the immortals who had Kid by his wrists. He hooked his arm around Kid’s neck and yanked him away from their hold.
Kid struggled with him in an attempt at some sort of self-defense, but he was as defenseless against him as he was against the bastard immortals who had snatched him initially. He managed to get a good swing in, but Rand seized him by his wrist, restraining him.
“No, no, no. You must be good. Remember, we all are far stronger than you could ever dream of being, and if you don’t go along with this, rather than having one of these magnificent cocks in you, you’ll have several as we try to shove them into you all at once, and I promise you with everything in my being, mortal, that there will not be any repercussions for our actions against you. Treycore, yes. A mortal…they might as well have let a fly in here, but what a delicious fly you will be.” He turned from Kid to his audience. “Everyone, it’s time to get in formation.”
He spoke a word that wasn’t English…or any language Kid recognized, but it must’ve been a language familiar to the others because it seemed to evoke a response, the room erupting in white and black as wings pushed from the immortals’ backs, revealing the higherlings and fallens present.
The prisoners rose from their seats and worked in teams, shoving the stone benches and tables against the walls, making an open arena in the middle of the room—the wrestling ring, Kid was sure. Once they’d cleared the space, the immortals jumped into the air and flew around the auditorium, encircling the room, some sitting on the ledges of the holes along the walls, others flying in place, some standing on the ground level. They shouted in a jumbled, chaotic mess, cheering on the competition.
