A heavy metallic creak echoed through the arena, and a large door opened at the other end. Dylan squinted to make out what was hiding in the shadows, but he didn't have to wait long.
Two creatures emerged, their silhouettes outlined by the light. They were grotesque hybrids, a mix of feline and reptile: sharp fangs, scales covering parts of their bodies, and claws as long as daggers. They were the size of a large dog, but their bodies were gaunt, as if deliberately starved to make them more violent and desperate.
Dylan swallowed hard, his mind frantically searching for an escape.
"Get rid of that chain, idiot!" someone shouted from the crowd.
But how? His hands were bound, and the weight of the metal ball hampered his every move. The creatures were already staring at him, their eyes glowing with a predatory light.
Every hair on his body stood on end under their menacing gaze. Drool dripped from their jaws, their hunger insatiable. These monsters wanted the prey that had been offered to them.
Yet they hesitated. Something in their predatory instinct compelled them to analyze their target further before pouncing.
Dylan didn't know why, but the creatures took their time to circle him. They feinted attacks now and then, while he violently swung the chain that bound him to the metal ball.
The metallic noise and sudden movements scared the beasts, causing them to step back slightly.
As they circled, Dylan turned with them, refusing to leave an opening for them to attack from behind. His movements were calculated, his instincts honed by years of military service. He may never have fought creatures like these before, but as an army lieutenant used to battlefields and perilous missions, he had to adapt.
However, adaptability didn't guarantee survival. He knew this. His hands were clammy, his heart pounding, but he had no other choice: he had to fight.
But first, Dylan needed to figure out a way to counter them. His opponents were closing in with every moment, their movements growing more precise, their intentions clearer.
He had to buy time at all costs.
He hadn't been given any weapon, leaving him entirely vulnerable to their attacks. On top of that, his hands and neck were weighed down by the heavy metal ball, an additional burden.
As he kept an eye on the more distant creature, the closer one suddenly leapt, its razor-sharp claws ready to strike. Had Dylan reacted even a second later, he'd have been finished.
He grabbed the chain with all his strength and yanked hard, swinging the metal sphere in a circular motion. The weight of the sphere, though cumbersome, slowed the creature's advance, forcing it to retreat just before sinking its fangs into him.
Both beasts stepped back warily as Dylan continued to spin the sphere. He wanted to stop the motion, but the metal weight was so heavy he struggled to regain control. Still, this new tactic worked in his favor: as long as he maintained the rotation, he could keep them at bay.
Taking advantage of the moment, Dylan began to back away slowly, keeping the creatures in his sights. Each time they tried to approach, he swung the chain with desperate energy, forcing the beasts to hold back.
However, he knew this couldn't last.
The sphere seemed to take on a life of its own, guiding his movements more than he controlled it. He had nearly tripped three times already, and a fourth fall could be fatal. His arms trembled from the effort, his breath grew ragged, and his mind struggled to block out the increasingly loud roars of the crowd.
Those shouts often felt like they were directed at him, an unforgiving judgment.
Dylan shook his head, trying to refocus. If he could ignore the noise, he would have done so without hesitation. But here, in this arena where every mistake could be his last, he needed all his senses.
If only I could enhance them... he thought bitterly.
But the reality was clear: he had to make do with his current abilities. His aching muscles, his labored breath, and this burdensome metal weight.
Yet giving up was not an option. An idea began to form in his mind as he observed the creatures: they only attacked when they saw an opening. If he could trap them, or force them to separate...
Dylan took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the chain. This is my only chance.
He tightened his hold on the chain, his eyes locked on the creatures still circling him. For all their hunger and desperation, their caution revealed a certain intelligence. They were waiting for the right moment, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness.
But Dylan wasn't going to give them the chance.
His mind worked quickly. The creatures seemed hesitant because of the sphere's constant movement. Maybe he could use this distraction to his advantage, but it would require precision and timing.
The beasts' claws scraped against the dusty arena floor, producing a shrill sound that sent shivers down his spine. They were inching closer, their muscles taut, ready to strike. Dylan gritted his teeth and swung the chain in a wider arc, using the sphere's weight to sweep the area around him.
The creature to his left abruptly retreated, but the one on his right, bolder or perhaps hungrier, attempted another leap.
Dylan pivoted just in time, the chain snapping through the air and narrowly missing the beast's open jaws. However, the sphere struck one of its legs, eliciting a piercing screech. The creature tumbled to the side before rising again, its gait now slower and more cautious.
A murmur rippled through the crowd, followed by a few mocking laughs.
Dylan felt a wave of relief but couldn't afford to lower his guard. The other beast hadn't stayed idle: it was taking advantage of the moment to move closer, its yellow eyes fixed on his exposed neck.
Instinctively, Dylan stepped back, sweat dripping down his face. The weight of the sphere was becoming unbearable, and his arms threatened to give out. Still, he had to hold on.
That's when he noticed something: the chain, though sturdy, was beginning to wear in certain spots where the metal rubbed against the ground and the sphere. An idea flashed through his mind, risky but perhaps his best shot.
He deliberately let the sphere drag more on the ground, accelerating the chain's wear. The creatures, sensing an opportunity, became more aggressive, leaping back and forth to test his reflexes.
"Just a little more…" he thought, his heart pounding.
The chain finally snapped with a loud metallic screech. Dylan felt the tension release suddenly, almost causing him to lose his balance. But there was no time to celebrate.
With desperate precision, he grabbed the broken end of the chain, now lighter, and cracked it in front of him like a whip. The nearest creature recoiled with a growl of frustration.
"This is it," he murmured through gritted teeth.
Dylan hurled the detached sphere with all his might toward the injured beast. The projectile struck its flank with brutal force, sending it crashing to the ground with a pained scream.
He immediately spun around, his eyes locking onto the other creature. It hesitated for a split second, seeing its companion fall, but that hesitation was all Dylan needed.
He lunged, wrapping the remaining chain tightly around his fist before looping it around the creature's neck. It thrashed violently, clawing at the ground and struggling to break free, but Dylan held firm.
He had been trained to endure pain and pressure, and he knew his battered body had to hold out if he wanted to survive. Every move the creature made was a challenge, every claw mark on his arms or legs a brutal reminder of the danger he faced.
As his hands began to slip from sweat and blood, he sank his teeth into the creature's ear, tearing off a chunk and spitting it out. The metallic, bitter taste only fueled his determination.
The creature let out a muffled scream, desperately trying to shake him off, but Dylan tightened the chain even further around its neck. The fight was savage, primal, and neither was willing to yield.
Dylan's body slammed against the ground repeatedly as the beast tried to throw him off, but he held on. Each time he faltered, he forced himself back up, gritting his teeth, his arms burning with effort.
The creature's movements became increasingly erratic, its strength waning. Finally, its breath grew labored, its resistance fading. Dylan gave one last squeeze, holding on until the light in its eyes dimmed completely.
Panting, covered in sweat and blood, Dylan remained kneeling, the creature's lifeless body still entangled in the chain. His entire body trembled with exhaustion, but he had survived.
Silence fell over the arena, followed by a roar from the crowd. Some shouted in excitement, others hurled insults. None of it mattered—Dylan had proven he was willing to do whatever it took to survive.