Hanna flopped around for a while like a magicarp on top of the woman’s shoulder. It didn’t do shit for her and made her feel outright silly, but you got to try right? The rest of the trip she just hung there limply, trying to fight back her growing motion sickness. She could get sick rather easily and having a bag over her head wasn’t helping. After maybe ten minutes of bouncing around and forcing herself not to puke, Hanna was unceremoniously tossed on the ground, getting the air knocked out of her.

“Who is she?” Someone asked, an older man by the sound of his voice.

“Some asshole who stuck her nose where it didn’t belong”, answered the woman who had carried Hanna. Her voice was easily distinguishable with its jazz-worthy touch of gravel.

“Where is… what’s his name again?

“I don’t know. This fucker took him out with a single punch so I left him there. If he makes it back, he makes it back. I don’t have the patience to pamper every little wannabe who think he have what it takes.”

The man sighed. “I’ll send someone to pick him up”. He had a tired voice. “Look Greta, we take care of our own, you know this”

“That may be, but I don’t count people who get their ass handed to them like that as ‘one of us’. You know this.” Her last three words were said with a mocking tone.

“That’s it!” The man said with exasperation. “I’m writing this down as insubordination. The boss will hear about this.”

“Whatever”

Hanna thought she could almost here the man scribbling furiously, but it might be her imagination. She was growing tired of not being able to see anything.

“What are you planning to do with her?” The man asked after a while, presumably when he was done writing.

“Way I see it, she has a debt to settle. What better way to do it then in the ring?”

“I doubt she will survive long, she doesn’t look all that though to me”

“We’ll see. She did throw one hell of a punch though.”

“Okay, I’ll put her up in the next fight”, the man said and Hanna was once again hoisted onto someone’s shoulder. Judging by the similar sensation, it was probably the woman again.

“But this is the last time you pull something like this Greta!” The man warned.

Greta was already walking away. A shift in her posture made Hanna imagine that she had given him the finger.

The next time she could see again, Hanna was in cell. Greta was standing in front of her with her hood in hand, looking down at her. Hanna was still bound tightly around her hands and feet. She felt pathetic laying there on the ground like a worm while Greta studied her.

“Do you remember how easily I took you down in the alley?”

“You could try it again and she how that works out for you”, Hanna answered with false bravado. It probably didn’t sound very credible coming from someone who was essentially as threatening as a rolled-up rug. Even unfettered, Hanna wouldn’t stand much of a chance, but there was no way she’d be admitting that.

Greta laughed. “I like your spunk but I think we both know how that would turn out. I’m not normally this gentle. I’m getting old.” The woman sat down on her hunches, looking Hanna in the eye from just a couple of decimetres away. “That’s why I will be very clear with you”, she said with a hint of steel in her voice. “Try any shit and you’ll regret it. It will cost you an arm at least”.

The woman sounded like she meant business and Hanna nodded with as much dignity as she could muster, not wanting to push her luck.

“Good girl”, Greta said. Then she pulled a knife from her boot and cut Hanna free, clearly on guard for any sudden movements. Hanna made sure not to move a muscle while the woman slowly backed out of the cell and closed the door.

“Someone will come and get you by the evening. You will be fighting in our arena. If you survive, there will be food after”.

Hanna was confused. Being kidnapped and made to fight in an arena ought to have made her furious, but the woman hadn’t caused her any unnecessary harm and was so business-like in her demeanour that Hanna was unable to get worked-up over it. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“Who are you people?” Was what she ended up saying.

“That’s none of your goddamn business”, Greta said. Then she flashed a crooked smile. “Don’t go anywhere”

Hanna watched the woman walk away, and then she looked around, trying to take in her surroundings. The cell she was in was all metal bars, the door included. The larger room had many cells just like her own lining the walls. Hanna judged that there were maybe fifty cells in there, with people in around half of them. The room was dimly lit by a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling. As soon as Greta closed the door behind her, Hanna turned to the closest inhabited cell. It was three cells over from her. It was an annoying distance, close enough to make talking viable, yet far enough that you had to kind of shout to be heard.

“Hey buddy!” Hanna called. She got virtually zero reaction from the huddled body that was laying on the floor. Perhaps he was dead.

“Oi!” Hanna shouted, a lot louder this time. Some guard might hear her, but she figured it can’t look to suspicious if people in the cells just tried talking to each other.

“Shut up, newbie!” The response came without any movement from the body. It sounded like a rather old guy.

“Where are we?” Hanna soldiered on.

“Fuck off! There is no use talking to you, you’ll be dead in a couple of hours anyway.“

“The hell I will!” Hanna snapped. “Now are you going to talk to me properly, or do I have to keep annoying you?”

The man pointedly ignored her, so Hanna made good on her threat. They had stripped her of all her weapons, but she was still wearing her armour. She banged her plated wrist against the bars of her cell. It gave a laud clang, causing Hanna to smile. This would do just fine. It took her maybe five minutes of bashing her arm like a lunatic against the bars until the man began groaning, and another five until he finally caved in.

“Okay! Just stop that fucking noise. It’s annoying as hell!”

“Hey, don’t blame me, you brought this on yourself”

The man sighed deeply. “What do you want to know?”

“A lot. Like where we are, who you are, how you ended up here, why we are being kept…”

“I get it!”, the man interrupted her. “Geez, can’t you just like, chill?

“Nope.” Hanna said, quite pleased with herself. “Answers, or I get back to being annoying”.

“Youths these days…” The man grumbled. “Well, the name is Fritjof and I’ve been here for gods know how long. Back in the days, I used to guard caravans, was quite good at it too. Then one day it turned out I wasn’t good enough. The caravan was robbed, most died, and I found myself in this fancy cell. Have been here ever since.” The man was quiet for a while. “It’s not too bad a life to be honest. Excitement in the evenings, plenty of sleep in between. If only the food weren’t so bad I’d even claim to enjoy it.”

“So what, they just bring you to fights and nothing else? What for?” Hanna asked. It seemed like a bit of a waste to just let people sit here and fester between fights.

“Why do people do anything lass?” The man asked with a tired voice. “For money of course.” He filled in, answering his own question.

“And our captors, who are they?” Hanna asked, her question causing the man to finally move from his prone position, turning to look at her with disbelief.

“You honestly can’t tell? Who but the thief’s guild could run this sort of operation on their home turf?”

It was the first time Hanna heard of them. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that a large city had a criminal organisation working behind the scenes. It just sounded too much like a computer game for her to believe it.

“Okay”, Hanna said. “To summarize, we are being held by the thief’s guild as some sort of slaves, and are forced to fight in an arena just so they can earn money on bets?”

“Nailed it.” Fritjof snorted.

“Alright. How do we get out?”

The man laughed loudly, which soon turned into a painful cough. “What kind of stupid question is that?” he said when he had recovered enough. “I just told you that we are being held by the thief’s guild. There is no getting out, they own this city.”

“Fuck that. I’m getting out of here, one way or another. Do you want to follow me or not when I do?”

Fritjof waved her off. “Sure”, he said. “We can hitch a ride on a flying pig and just sail away into the lands of rainbows and happiness”

“Keep doing your thing then, your loss”, Hanna answered surly. Their conversation died there, and Fritjof seemingly went back to sleep or whatever it was that he had been doing before. Hanna took a good look at the bars. They didn’t seem that sturdy. She grabbed two of them and tried to pull them apart. They moved a little, just not enough to actually bend. It was a promising start though, she could probably bend them if she were to push against them using her whole body. That would have to wait until later. It would be a shame if she tried escaping too early and ended up caught again with only reinforced bars to show for it.

The seconds in the cell ticked by in slow motion. Hanna had enough time to get bored to a point where walking in circles felt stimulating, and then enough time to be bored by that as well. She shadowboxed for a while but had trouble getting into it. This kind of under-stimulation was absolute torture to Hanna, and it was with relief that she eventually heard the door open. Two women walked into the room, by the looks of their armour and swords they were probably some kind of guards.

“Hands out!” One of them commanded. Hanna recognized the drill from movies she had seen and stuck her hands out between the bars without complaint. They bound them expertly and then opened the door to her cell.

“This way”, said the same woman as before and started walking. The other woman took the rear-point and something sharp poked Hanna’s back, probably the second woman’s sword. They were running a tight ship, not surprising if they had been doing this for ages. The three of them left through the door and ended up in a narrow corridor. It was lined with more doors which were ignored by her guards until they came upon the ninth door on the right, Hanna carefully noted. If she was going to make a run for it later, she needed to know as much as possible about the layout of the place. On the other side of the door the corridor continued on for maybe thirty meters, but this section of the corridor had no more doors, except for a single, huge one at the far end. The woman who had done the talking opened it, revealing a huge open area.

“Almost forgot. Helmets are not allowed”, she said and removed Hanna’s leather cap. The woman’s eyes flashed in surprise. “What’s up with your head?”

“That’s a long story”, Hanna answered with a tired voice.

“Well, you look ugly as fuck”, the leading woman concluded as she cut open the rope that tied Hanna’s hands together. Hanna considered for a moment if she should just throw caution to the wind and bash the asshole’s face in.

“You’re meant to go through the door, stupid”, the second woman growled and pushed harder against Hanna’s back with her sword.

Hanna rolled her eyes. “Yeah I got that. What about weapons?”

She didn’t get any reply, at least not a verbal one. What she did get was a hard kick in the back, sending her through the door. Hanna ended up with her face planted in the sand to the backdrop of a lot of people roaring with laughter.

Hanna ignored the laughter and focused on spitting out sand from her mouth and clearing her eyes from all the dirt. As she slowly got to her feet, the crowd turned silent around her.

“You all know how this works”, some promoter shouted across the arena. “We have a new girl today, fresh off the streets. Rumour has it that she has a nasty punch. We’ll see if it will be enough to survive against good old Mad-eye!”

Hanna stood up and looked around the arena. It was circular, maybe fifty meters in diameter, with a tall wall surrounding it. Above the wall were many rows of seats, all filled to the brim with people cheering.

“Of course, her opponent needs no introduction. He has proven time and time again just how vicious he can be. Place your bets people!”

Hanna checked her opponent out. He was standing on the far side of the circle, looking laid-back and unbothered.

“All right, no more betting folks, the time is up. Let the fight begin!”

As soon as the signal was given by the promoter, Hanna’s opponent ran straight towards her. It was hard sizing him up as he was running. He looked like a normal dude of average build. Hanna jumped a little on the spot, trying to get into her zone. When he was maybe ten meters away from her, she put her guard up in a mix between the stances used in boxing and Wing Chun. Just as her hands came up, her opponent leaped at her, covering a distance that no human should be able to manage. Hanna was too shocked to strike him, she barely managed to step out of the way.

Mad-eye wasn’t fazed by his miss, he just rolled on the ground and was back on his feet in a heartbeat. Hanna stepped up to him and tried a hook to his jaw. He nimbly dodged under it, making her punch air. Then he tackled her from his crouched position, throwing her to the ground with his legs pinning her down. His right fist came down, hitting her hard on her nose. Something broke and her eyes teared. Hanna blinked through the pain. She was bleeding somewhere.

Another punch followed the first, and then they just kept coming. Between the hits, Hanna got a good look at his eyes and immediately understood the moniker. They looked inhuman and frenzied. This guy was not right in the head.

The next punch landed in her mouth and Hanna panicked as she felt what must have been teeth knocked off. The panic gave her strength and focus, and she managed a sloppy swing at his ribcage. It knocked him off her, and Hanna hurried to her feet. Mad-eye seemed a bit dazed by the punch. Hanna’s face burned like crazy and her right eye was a bit swollen. She spat out whatever was in her mouth but saw only a large glob of blood. Then the respite was over, and her opponent was charging her again.

This time she was ready. She stood still and awaited the tackle that was telegraphed, trying to not look too obvious about it. When he ran at her in a reprise of his earlier move, she grabbed his head and kneed him as hard as she could in the face. Her knee made a disgusting sound as it met its target and turned what ought to be a face into a bloody mess. Her opponent fell limply to the ground. Hanna breathed out in relief. That had been brutal. She wanted to touch her face but dreaded what she would find. All around her, the crowd that had been in turmoil slowly turned silent. Hanna turned around to see what was going on.

Behind her, Mad-eye was slowly starting to stand up. Hanna couldn’t believe her eyes. His face was absolutely destroyed, there should be no way that he was moving after that. And yet there he stood, in pain and struggling for breath, but standing firmly on his own two feet. The sight sent shivers along her spine. He looked like he was something straight out of a horror movie. Mad-eye had both his hands stretched out towards her, and came ever closer with slow, struggling steps like a shambling zombie. The crowd were going wild, chanting his name in ecstasy.

When he was close enough to almost reach her, Hanna kicked him hard in his kneecap. It caved in and his leg bent the wrong way. She did her best not to look at it. Mad-eye fell over, but in his fall, he managed to latch on to her armour with his hands. The unexpected weight caused her to join him and they ended up entangled in the sand. Hanna was caught off guard by his unrelenting struggle. She grabbed his hands, trying to force them away from her, but he held on with an iron grip. Somewhere back in her mind, she realized that the paralyzing fear that ruled her was illogical, he was moving slowly and was barely alive. Despite this, he was inch by inch pulling himself closer to her, his jaw opened wide as it moved towards her throat.

The fucker is honestly trying to bite me!

The realisation made her snap out of her daze and she snaked her arm around him, grabbing his hair. For a second the two of them were caught in a gory version of a lovers-embrace. Then she won their brief contest of strength and forced his head back, fighting him for every inch. His head was bent backwards at a dangerous angle when she lost her grip, holding the major part of his scalp in her hand. His jaws clamped shut around her jugular and he tore ought a huge chunk of her flesh. Blood spurted and Hanna put as much pressure as she could on the wound. The seconds went by. Hanna felt her flesh begin knitting itself together under her hands. A quick look to her side told her that the fight was over, Mad-eye was on the ground next to her, passed out. The arena was silent, Hanna could practically see people craning their necks in an attempt to get a look at what had happened.

She stayed on the ground for a few more seconds, trying to catch her breath. Then she rolled over to her stomach and stood up, only swaying slightly. Around her, the arena exploded into cheers.

“Can you believe it? What a fight people!” The promoter announced. “I certainly didn’t see that coming!”

Hanna felt cheesy but couldn’t resist the moment. She raised her closed fist in a victorious pose, reinvigoration the cheers.

“I guess most of you will be walking home with slim purses, but who cares? Mad-eye, defeated by uh…” The promoter paused for a second. “… Defeated by Metalhead, and in her first fight to boot!

Hanna cringed at the ridiculous name. She couldn’t fault him though, she was a metalhead, both physically and in regard to her musical preferences. There were probably worse names out there. She stood there for a while, feeling a bit silly. Then the guards from before appeared. They were followed by two new faces, that dragged the unconscious Mad-eye away from the arena.

“Hands out”, one of the guards said stoically. Hanna thought it was the same one that had taken the lead before, but she couldn’t really tell. Hanna complied none the less.

“That was unexpected”, the other guard commented while the first one bound Hanna’s hands.

“Yeah, I feel the same”, Hanna said, feeling rather numb.

“It looked like he bit you, but I don’t see the wound…”

Hanna shook her head. “Nah, he tried, he just didn’t pierce the skin.” The last thing she wanted was for them to notice her powers. As far as it was possible, she wanted to save that surprise for later.

The guard narrowed her eyes and studied Hanna carefully. “I could have sworn that I saw him rip some flesh out”, she muttered. Then the other guard cut here off. “We don’t have time for this. It’s back to the cell for you”.

Back in her cell again, Hanna gingerly sat down on her bed and watched the two guards leave the room. She took a few heavy breaths, trying to get her bearings straight. If that was what a fight in the arena was, everything else she had experienced so far only amounted to kindergarten-kerfuffle’s.

Three cells over, Fritjof was standing up, looking at her.

“Survived huh? Wasn’t expecting that”

“I was.” Hanna said. In hindsight, she might have been a bit overly optimistic.

“Sure thing, kiddo. What’s up with your head? I don’t remember your head being quite as shiny”

“None of your business”.

Fritjof shrugged. “Who did you face?”

“They called him ‘Mad-eye’”, Hanna said, feeling silly as she said it out loud. It was a name fit for something like Harry Potter, not actual conversations.

Fritjof gave out a whistle. “You fought old Mad-eye and lived? Guess I was wrong about you”

“Why, does he usually win?” Hanna asked.

Fritjof grimaced. “He usually wins, but that isn’t the problem. It’s that those he fights usually dies. The guy is unrelenting, bloodlust incarnate.”

Hanna shivered once again as she remembered him getting to his feet, with a face more caved in than not.

“At the end, it was hard to think of him as human”, she said.

Fritjof laughed bitterly. “Not very surprising, kid. He isn’t”.