Page 1 of 4 Corinthians

Adolescence

Uri Strong

“Uri!” Robert’s loud voice boomed through the cold room. He may have had sex with my mama, and she birthed me, but I was never to call him anything but his name. We had no familial connection other than blood. He was my handler, not my daddy. “Uri!” I slowly lifted my head and stared at eyes that were just like mine. Cold, hard, and without a soul, his father had taken his, and in return, he was trying to take mine. He wanted me to be a monster, and I was scared he was succeeding. “Come with me; I want to show you something.” We walked through the small room. He knew that I had no other choice but to follow him. The spiked collar around my neck pierced my skin. It wasn’t that I could feel the pain from the spikes because I couldn’t, but I followed because today I didn’t want to die. The collar and leash were a punishment for me. I tried to run away again last night. I’d gotten to the gate of our property before the dogs got me. It was also a statement to the people around him. He wanted them to think he controlled the beast he created. A power statement, if it was nothing else.

When we got to our destination, we sat in the corner, and Robert tied the leash to his chair. I hated this room; I’d spent too many nights here. It smelled of blood, and the echoes of cries and cheers blended into something almost deafening at times.

“One thing you will learn about me, Uri, is that I mean what I say and believe that you could and would be the person to replace me when I am done,” Robert said. He looked around the room with a blank expression. To others, he probably looked bored, but I knew better. He was calculating his next move, trying to see who or what he could gain from being here. “Your brother doesn’t have what it takes. He’s a decent fighter, but he’s weak.” He stretched his long legs in front of him and nodded. “You, on the other hand, have almost no weakness. You are almost perfect.” His hand went to my leg, and I watched as his muscles flexed. I could feel the pressure of his hand on me, but not the pain that was supposed to be associated with his squeezing my leg. This is why he thought I was perfect. I felt no pain. Nothing ever physically hurts. But that didn’t mean I wasn't emotionally just as unbothered, which is why he said "almost." He knew, mentally, I craved the connection I couldn’t get physically. “You will fall in line.” He looked down at me and smirked. “Or I will kill you. I have enough sperm to reproduce and create the perfect child.” He let go of my leg, and the room darkened.

The crowd got quiet, and a spotlight shone down on the center of the room. My father let out a grunt, and out of habit, my head dropped. I didn’t have to be standing inside those doors leading to the fighting ring to know what was happening. I’d been down there my entire life. I knew the sounds, smells, and helplessness associated with the hallway and the fighting ring.

“She’s perfect,” he mumbled and stood. “Look at her.” He untied my collar and pulled me to my feet, then grabbed my chin and lifted my head. “Look at her, Uri!”

I watched as a small girl was led into the room. I hadn’t seen her before; she was new. The spotlight stayed with her, following her as she moved to the center of the ring. She was young and small, but she didn’t look afraid. Her eyes took in the crowd, scanning the entire room, and when they landed on Robert, she glared at him with an intensity that a child her age shouldn’t have ever had.

“Who is she?” I asked him. His attention was on her, too, and I hated how he looked at her. There was something there: emotions and infatuation that shouldn’t be there. She was a kid, no older than six, but I also knew that in this life, that meant she was mentally way older. She had to be to survive.

Her skin was the color of fresh honey, her eyes dark and haunted, yet they sparkled in the light. She wore all black, which meant she belonged to one of the big families. Each of us had a color and a family crest. If you wore the colors or crest, it meant you were someone, had money, and the influence needed to be here. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with a black ribbon. She looked like a little girl who should be at the park, playing and laughing. Not in the middle of the death ring.

“She’s perfect,” he replied with a small chuckle as if he didn’t hear my question or care to answer. He licked his lips and nodded. “Just perfect.”

The doors opened again, and in walked Jax Cartell. I’d seen him before, fought with him more times than I can count, and I could say without a doubt I hated him. He fought to impress everyone around him.

The buzzer sounded, and we sat. Robert picked up his sign, wrote down his bid, and submitted it to the collector walking around the room. The lights flashed, and I watched as Jax started circling the girl. I leaned forward, watching as he moved, waiting for him to make his first move. He was predictable; he always went to his left, then moved to his right after the first punch. He did exactly what I expected him to do, and apparently the girl did too, because she sidestepped his first punch, then landed her own to his throat. I saw the moment the wind was knocked out of him and the realization that she wasn’t just a little girl he could beat on. Jax stepped back, squared his shoulders, then rushed the girl. She stood there like a deer stuck in headlights, and I stood up. If he hit her, I was going to kill him. But just like the first time, she sidestepped him, spinning slightly, and then at the last second, I saw it. She pulled a blade from her pants and cut his back. Jax screamed and fell against the gate that encased them. She took that as her opportunity to jump on his back and put him in a chokehold. Jax struggled and fought to get out of her hold, but she didn’t let go. She held on so tight I could see the muscles in her arm flexing.

“Kill him!” A man screamed from the side of the gate. I looked over to see Ruben DeCorte slam his hand into the gate. “Kill him!” Ruben shook the gate. “Kill him, or I’m sending in your sister next!” That woke something in her, as if a switch had flipped. Her small hand balled into a fist, and she pulled Jax tighter. Then she did something I’d never seen anyone else do. She moved up his body until she could move around him without losing her hold, opened her mouth and bit into the front side of his neck, and didn’t let go. Jax's eyes ballooned, and he screamed. Blood ran from her mouth; then she roughly pulled back, pulling skin, muscle, and anything else that was in her mouth with her. Jax went down to his knees, and she finally let him go. Jax stayed on his knees, holding his throat and struggling to stay alive. She took her knife back out, whispered something in his ear, then stabbed him in the heart. She wiped the blood from her knife with the back of his shirt, put it back in her pocket, and walked out of the cage.

“She’s perfect.” Robert laughed and clapped. “Come on, son, let’s go.” He picked up the leash and walked away.

***

“Robert!” Ruben chuckled as we approached. He stood from his chair, extended his hand, and waited. “How are you??

“I’m well,” he replied, shaking Ruben’s hand. “I’m very well.” He looked around the room. “Where is she?”

“Getting hosed down,” Ruben answered. “She was uncooperative when she came; out of the ring.”

“Really?” Robert had the nerve to look surprised. “She was good at our last session. What changed?”

“I think it was the crowd,” Ruben answered. “She has never done that in front of so many people.”

“She’s being punished for winning?” I looked at Robert, confused.

“She’s being punished for not listening,” Ruben said, shaking his head.

“My pet-“

“She’s your pet?” I quickly asked and took a step back. The leash tightened from the distance I put between us. I’d heard about people having ‘pets’; it wasn’t a term of affection or love, not that any of them knew what that was like. None of the ‘pets’ made it out. They either died in a fight or killed themselves.

“She is,” he nodded. “Would you like to meet her?”

“No,” I quickly answered. I wanted to meet her, but not with Robert around. The further he stayed away from her, the better.

“Too bad,” Robert snarled. “Let’s go.” He pulled against the leash, but I didn’t move. His eyes got low, and his lips curled in annoyance. “I will drag you through these hallways.” He wasn’t lying; reluctantly, I took a step towards him. “Almost perfect.”

We walked through the crowd, then down the hallway that led to the holding cages. Robert swiped his wristband. Then, after the door buzzed, he pushed it open. The sounds of crying echoed through the room. Kids sat in the corners of their cages, never giving their backs to the open space. I heard the whispers of my name as we walked. They wondered why I was leashed and how long it would last. If a person were leashed, they couldn’t fight. That was the rule. The people watching me were relieved that I was sitting down; they didn’t care about anything else. They thought they were safe. They were wrong. Robert had a new ‘pet’.

Ruben fell into step with Robert; his long legs pushed the pace. The door to his wing in the holding tank was closed. He opened the door and stepped back. Robert entered, followed by me, and then Ruben.