"What did I do?" Emile asked, "What sin did I commit for this to be my consequence?"
"I'm not sure—" she said, breaking eye contact with Emile. She stood up and began walking down the hallway, "you caught the interest of the Chief. I hope, for your sake, you live up to his expectations."
Emile fell asleep soon after that. He was growing used to the remarkably cold stone floors. When he awoke, he began reviewing past engagements, preparing himself for his upcoming bout.
From what he's gathered, his gift applies to every facet of his body. Not only does his body recover faster, but its normal processes are sped up too.
His hair grows faster, his reactions are better, he can follow inhuman speeds with his eyes. But most importantly, his muscles are building quicker and their habits are solidifying faster.
He trained at the military camp for two months, but during those two months his muscles completely rebuilt each night. They absorbed the proper form, memorized the habits, two months of training for Emile was years to someone else.
The only thing he lacked was experience. The woman the other day caught him off guard. She repeatedly rushed him without remorse, hyper relying on her gift to quickly end the fight.
Emile returned to the tunnel leading to the pit, but today the guard remained by his side. Emile tried to look into the arena through the gate, but he couldn't see anyone inside.
Minutes passed and Emile only grew more and more anxious. Finally, the gate on the other side started its ascent and two people passed underneath.
The guard released Emile and shoved him forward.
'You've got to be kidding me.'
Emile entered the pit and looked between his two opponents. One of them was a man. He was taller than Emile by a foot, but he was lanky, long and thin.
His partner seemed to be a little boy, maybe thirteen years old. He had a small frame, even thinner than the man next to him. His head was shaved and he had tattoos running up his neck.
"So do you wanna take turns?" Emile asked.
His opponents briefly exchanged glances. They nodded to one another and then the lanky one took off.
He ran around the arena and tried to get behind Emile, pinching him between the two. Before he passed Emile, Emile rushed towards the small boy.
The lanky man skid across the floor as he stopped himself and ran back. Meanwhile, Emile arrived before the boy and launched a kick at his head.
But before Emile's foot hit, the tattoo on the boy's neck burst to life: a completely black, taloned hand caught Emiles foot and threw it down.
Emile steadied himself and jumped back while the lanky man stepped in front of the boy. Another standstill ensued.
The lanky man took a step forward, but Emile didn't yield. Another step. Emile put his hands up and readied himself.
'So his tattoos come to life. What do you do?'
The lanky man threw out a punch and Emile redirected his arm to the side then slammed his palm into the man's chest. The man's chest caved in, Emile's hand dug deep into the crater, then the man's outstretched body rubber-banded and he flung backwards.
'Where are his bones?!'
Emile rushed at the lanky man, taking advantage of his pushed back position. He threw out a punch, but Emile ducked below it and pushed his shoulder into the man's body.
Locking his arms around him, Emile raised him into the air and slammed him into the ground, the man's body vibrated as it absorbed the impact.
Emile stood over the man and looked up at the boy. He was smiling; the corners of his mouth stretched far up into his cheeks.
Emile ran forward with his arm already cocked. As he was approaching, the black claw pushed out of the boy's body. It flew forward to intercept Emile, but Emile dropped to the floor and slid into the boy's legs.
The boy toppled down on top of Emile where he was then held in a choke hold. The boy kicked his feet and scratched Emile's arm, but then the dark arm came soaring towards Emile and wrapped around his neck.
Now, both Emile and the boy were slowly being choked. It was a matter of who could hold their breath the longest.
Emile tightened his arms around the boy's neck, but the black arm squeezed harder as well. Emile caught something moving in the corner of his eye, looking over, he saw the lanky man getting up.
He finally stood up and absent-mindedly looked around the pit. After spotting the two on the ground, he drunkenly ran at the two.
Emile rapidly looked between the choking boy and the incoming man. Twenty feet away. Fifteen feet away.
Emile let go of the boy and tried to dig his nails into the tattoo that was squeezing his neck, but instead of piercing flesh, his fingers slid through the tattoo like it was still only ink.
The black arm flinched and returned to the boy's neck. Emile stumbled backwards and put his arms up to block the boneless man's blow.
His clenched fist hit Emile's arm, but there was little impact behind it. In fact, it felt like he was hit with a rubber bat.
Emile grabbed the man's arm and pulled him in, then buried his knee in the man's stomach. The man fell to his knees and Emile grabbed his skull and twisted it towards the boy.
Emile let go and the man dropped to the floor. Stepping over him, Emile walked towards the boy amidst an uproar of cheers from above.
Emile was just a few steps away from the boy when he took off and sprinted around the wall of the pit. Emile watched as the boy ran around until he stopped and kneeled beside the lanky man.
He placed his hand on the man's chest and closed his eyes. Shortly after, the man's body began to convulse as his blood vessels enlarged and darkened.
His body withered, his skin loosened, it only took a few seconds for the man to become a haggard, shriveled corpse. Moments later, his body visibly shrunk and faded to a pitch black mass that was then absorbed by the boy.
The black mass wrapped itself around the boy's arm and solidified into a new tattoo, this one taking the form of a band spiraling his forearm.