I sit down next to the corpses and slip the knife back into my hand, prying the lizard teeth out one by one. After a few moments, the fellow prisoners begin to disperse, whispering amongst themselves.

Damn that was rough. Despite my apparent victory, I don’t let myself relax. In here, everyone is out to get me. I can’t smile, I can’t joke, I can’t rest. I look down at the jaw in my hands, and the pile of teeth on the ground, suppressing a sigh.

How did it get back to this so quickly? We just said we wanted to be better, and now I’m worse than before. Just to merely survive, I’m going to have to be even worse than I was before. What happened to being a hero? To doing the good things?

Was I ever really serious about becoming better? Or was it a front? It’s that damn Dickwed.

“Dickwed,” I grumble under my breath, now working on popping the teeth out of the reptilian’s top jaw. That damn little bastard put me in here. Hopefully, he was satisfied with just stuffing me in this cage. Hopefully the others are safe. Maybe...maybe if I’m thinking that there’s hope I can be a good person. But sometimes, good people have to do bad things.

I tug the boots of the big man and begun cutting into them, using my teeth to pull when the knife won’t do. That Piper bitch, she has it coming too, tight ass be damned. It’s a shame she stuck with that rotten CEO—what a waste. Hot gingers don’t happen all the time, you know.

Stop telling jokes and work harder. I take a few leather strips from the boots and began layering them on top of one another, working the roots of the reptilian teeth through them.

Finish this, and then finish them. You’ll escape eventually, so you have to be ready. You can’t relax, you can’t let go, until you’re out. Then maybe you—

“Hey.” I don’t look up, but count the pairs of feet in front of me. One pair of hooves, two pairs of boots, and some dirty human feet. “You look tired.”

“I’m not,” I reply shortly.

“We saw what you did there,” someone in a gruff voice rumbles. Good. That was kind of the point. I finish twisting the roots of the teeth through the leather, and begin working on the other strip. “Not many people have that kind of reaction time.” I ignore the comment, and continue working. One of those dirty human feet tries to nudge me, and I quickly flick the knife around, jamming through this foot. He falls back screaming, but I don’t lift my eyes.

“Damnit Jacquen!” the same rough voice snaps. A hairy leg kneels next to me, and I try not to let the tension show in my shoulders. A monkey’s paw reaches out and grips the knife, causing Jacquen to cry out again. “Don’t be such a little bitch,” the man growls, before yanking the knife out of Jacquen’s foot. He wipes the blood off on the underling’s pants and hands it to me, handle first. I continue working.

“As I was saying, not many people have that reaction time. For that matter, I only know one ratty little bastard who’s burned to shit with those kinds of reflexes.” I finally pause, and lock eyes with the leader of the Dier Fiends, Marazan. “And I happen to know a few people pissed at him.”

“Hello Namonai,” a voice whispers to me from behind, a blade appearing at my throat. Marazan grins as much as his beak will allow and cracks his knuckles.

“We’ve got some old friends who are just dying to meet you,” the Dier Fiends leader growls. “It’s been awhile since we’ve all been in the same playground, and I’ve honestly missed it. It will give us an opportunity to catch up and...” I tune him out. The vague threats and posturing don’t concern me; the knife at my throat on the other hand...that’s a little more pressing. I slowly wrap the tooth-studded leather band around my hand while Marazan is talking, and his goon is attending to Jacquen.

I slam my head backwards, and knock it against the nose of my assailant. I barely have time to catch his wrist as he brings the knife towards me. I twist around and tuck the knife-wielding hand under my arm, bringing my free hand back for a strike.

BOOM! I go flying backwards and skip across the ground like a stone. I groan and try to sit up, but my head is still reeling. I recognize that feeling, and I hate that I do.

“Last time you heard that noise, I believe a ceiling was coming down around me. And you,” Chayton squats down in front of me, Marazan standing with his arms folded, “were stealing from me.”

“Don’t you know that hurts his feelings?” Marazan says with a hyena cackle.

“What, no comeback?” Chayton leans forward. “No smart retort?” I try not to focus on his crooked teeth, and attempt to do quick calculations on the speed of the gangsters. But even as my muscles are tensing, ready for action, there’s a rising need welling up. A nagging pressure that mounts towards a crescendo in the back of my brain, making my jaw ache.

“You’d think after eating a tongue, he would be all ready to talk.”

“Maybe we should...incentivize him,” Chayton says with a cruel grin.

“You two make a great couple,” I say with a forced laugh, and the mounting pressure recedes.

“Ha! Now that’s the Namonai I know and love,” Marazan says. “It wouldn’t be no fun torturing you if you didn’t talk back a little. Now—”

“Attention mongrels!” a clear voice rings out. We all turn our attention to the left, where a large metal door is being lifted by loud clanking chains and gears. Still, the thin man dressed in deep purples and golds manages to be louder. He claps his hands and the lipstick at the edges of his mouth twist high into a deprived smile. “IIIIIIT’S SHOWTIIIIME!”