SETUP
654 Words
Rival’s POV :
I swear if I spent one more hour staring at Shadow doing f*****g squats in the corner like a prison monk, I was gonna bash my own head in.
“This place is sucking the life outta me,” I muttered, kicking a bottle cap across the floor. It clanged against the bars like even it wanted out.
Shadow didn’t flinch. Just kept going. Like he was built from silence and suppressed rage.
“No fights today either?” I called over, mostly out of desperation.
He didn’t respond.
Cool. So I was stuck in the cage with a mute ninja. Great.
The boredom was eating me alive. I needed something. Anything. Movement. Noise. Even a slap to the face would’ve been nice.
So naturally, I did what any curious bastard would do.
I got up and wandered.
Shadow didn’t stop me. He didn’t even glance up. Just muttered, “Don’t poke the wrong hornet’s nest.”
“Noted,” I said, already halfway down the hallway.
The base was quieter than usual. No fights. No drills. Just murmurs and footsteps echoing through steel and stone.
I kept to the shadows, ears perked. Most doors were locked or guarded, but I spotted a storage room left slightly ajar. Jackpot.
I slipped inside.
Crates stacked high. A single hanging bulb. And... voices.
I crouched behind a barrel, heart pounding. Voices grew clearer.
“…if Boris finds out, we’re all fucked.”
“Boris won’t find out. Not unless that brat opens his mouth.”
“You sure he’s asleep?”
“Knocked out with meds. Kid won’t wake up till morning.”
They were talking about someone. A “brat.” A setup.
Then came the name that made every hair on my neck stand.
“Natalya.”
I froze.
They were plotting something. Against her.
“She was supposed to die in the arena, but that i***t Rival stalled too long. Should’ve finished her off.”
“Doesn’t matter. They’re setting up a rematch next week. This time, it won’t be fair.”
“Poison?”
“No. A trigger. In her food. They want to see how long it takes her to go rabid.”
My stomach twisted.
These weren’t just random fighters. These were handlers. Or worse—medics with orders.
A setup? Poison? Trigger? What the hell kind of game were they playing?
I backed up slowly, careful not to breathe too loud.
Then—
CREAK.
The crate behind me shifted.
I flinched.
“Shh—did you hear that?”
Shitshitshitshit—
I bolted.
Didn’t wait to hear them call out. Just sprinted through the hallway like my soul was on fire.
When I got back to the cage, Shadow was standing at the bars, arms folded.
“You ran,” he said flatly.
“You knew?”
“I told you not to poke.”
“Why the hell didn’t you stop me?!”
He stared at me, dead calm. “You were gonna do it anyway.”
I collapsed onto the bunk, chest heaving.
“I heard something,” I muttered. “Something bad. They’re planning to drug Natalya. f*****g trigger her. In a fight.”
Shadow tilted his head. “And?”
“And?! That’s not just a fight. That’s a goddamn setup.”
He walked over, squatted in front of me. “So what are you gonna do? Play hero? Warn her?”
“I—”
“Listen, Rival. This place doesn’t reward heroes. It buries them.”
I swallowed.
He was right.
But the weight in my gut didn’t leave.
I couldn’t just do nothing.
Even if she was my rival. Even if we hated each other’s guts.
Something about it felt wrong.
I barely slept that night. Kept seeing her face twisted in rage. Kept hearing those bastards laughing.
Kept wondering if my silence would be what got her killed.
- Writer
