Chapter 51: Blood for Blood

Fred's arms ached as he was dragged across the gravel, the ground scraping the skin off his elbows and knees.

The Hollow wasn't satisfied with breaking his spirit.

It wanted his soul.

Deeper into the underground they took him — past the cages, past the dormitories, into places the other recruits whispered about but dared not name.

The air grew colder.

Damper.

Fouler.

The torches thinned, and soon only flickering pools of light remained.

Fred could barely lift his head, but what he saw made his blood freeze.

A pit.

Circular.

Walls slick with mold and rot.

Metal grates overhead where Overseers and recruits could look down like gods watching ants tear each other apart.

Blood stained the stones.

Old blood.

New blood.

So much blood it looked like the floor itself was made of it.

Theo had been right.

Escape was a lie.

This was the true Hollow.

---

They threw Fred into the center of the pit like a sack of meat.

The impact knocked the breath from his lungs.

He rolled onto his side, coughing weakly, tasting copper.

Above, the Overseers gathered.

Kael stood among them, arms folded, whip dangling loosely from one hand.

A twisted smile curled his lips.

> "Welcome, Fred," Kael said, his voice echoing.

> "Welcome to the Arena."

The crowd above jeered and shouted, banging fists against iron bars.

Fred tried to rise.

Failed.

Tried again.

This time he made it to his knees.

Across the pit, a door creaked open.

Someone else was shoved inside.

A small figure.

A girl.

Barely thirteen.

Wild brown hair.

Eyes wide with terror.

Fred's stomach twisted.

> No.

Not her.

Lira.

One of the recruits he had helped — the one who had refused to fight when the Overseers demanded it.

They had beaten her black and blue for her defiance.

And now they had sent her here.

Fred rose shakily to his feet.

> "No!" he shouted, his voice breaking.

> "She's just a kid!"

The Overseers laughed.

Kael stepped forward, speaking loud enough for all to hear.

> "In the Hollow, weakness is death."

> "Kill her, Fred."

> "Or die in her place."

Fred shook his head violently.

> "I won't."

Kael's smile widened.

> "Then she will."

At his signal, the guards above hurled a dagger into the arena, the blade clattering across the blood-slick stones between them.

Lira stared at it.

Then at Fred.

Tears streamed down her bruised face.

> "I don't want to," she whispered.

Fred's chest constricted painfully.

> "Neither do I," he said, his voice raw.

Above them, the crowd grew impatient.

Chanting.

> "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Kael gestured lazily.

The floor beneath Lira shifted.

Blades.

Rusty, cruel, mechanical — rising from the stones like jagged teeth.

If she stayed still, she would be impaled.

Fred understood immediately.

Move forward.

Pick up the dagger.

Fight.

Or die.

---

Lira staggered forward, sobbing.

She grabbed the dagger with trembling hands.

Fred held up his hands, palms out.

> "Don't," he said gently.

> "Don't do this."

But Lira was trapped.

Cornered.

Terror and survival instincts warred in her eyes.

And Fred knew.

She would attack.

Not because she wanted to.

But because the Hollow had left her no other choice.

Lira lunged.

Fred sidestepped, barely.

The dagger slashed through the air where his ribs had been a second before.

He grabbed her wrist, twisting gently, trying not to hurt her.

> "Listen to me," he gasped.

> "We can fight them, not each other!"

But the floor shifted again.

Another ring of spikes burst up behind Lira, forcing her closer to him.

The arena was a death trap.

There was no way out.

> No way but one.

---

Fred tightened his grip on Lira's wrist.

Forced the dagger from her hand.

It clattered to the ground.

Lira sagged against him, sobbing brokenly.

Fred wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the Overseers' cruel laughter.

Kael's voice sliced through the jeers.

> "Very touching."

> "But mercy is weakness."

He nodded.

Above, an Overseer raised a crossbow.

Fred saw it.

Realized too late.

The twang of the string.

The whistling of the bolt.

He spun, trying to shield Lira —

The bolt struck her in the back.

She stiffened.

Then went limp.

Fred screamed.

It was a sound he didn't know he was capable of making.

Raw.

Primal.

He cradled her as she bled out in his arms, the life draining from her faster than he could stop it.

> "I'm sorry," she whispered.

A tiny smile flickered on her cracked lips.

> "You... tried."

Then she was gone.

Fred rocked back and forth, clutching her body, his mind shattering into a thousand broken pieces.

Above, the crowd cheered.

Kael laughed.

> "Let that be a lesson," he called.

> "Hope is a lie."

---

Something inside Fred died that night.

Something else was born.

A seed of rage.

Of vengeance.

He laid Lira's body down gently on the bloodstained stones.

Then he stood.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

His muscles screamed in protest.

His wounds bled freely.

But he stood.

He lifted his head to the Overseers.

And for the first time since entering the Hollow, Fred smiled.

It wasn't a smile of joy.

Or mercy.

It was a promise.

> I will burn this place to the ground.

> I will make you all pay.

Even if it killed him.

Especially if it killed him.

Because death would be better than letting the Hollow win.

--