#iatrials

How she had been put on a list for these trials Boa didn’t know, having received a letter in braille about her participation the week before slipped under her door. It had been awfully vague but after attending the other two trials her position seemed clear. Fight and win to claim victory over her opponent otherwise she would not proceed through to the next level of these trials and that was unacceptable. Losing would be a wound to her pride that would never be acceptable; being the best was her only option. The crowd's roar died down, an announcement of the match beginning her only warning before her first opponent appeared, sounding as if they were being pushed into the ring. The tug in her soul as their scent washed over her spoke volumes, morals clashing sharply with survival instincts as Were regarded Were. Her first opponent was to be of her same species and her initial vicious inclinations dropped a notch, unwilling to hurt one of her kind. Heightened senses stretched, trying to probe at the being before her for weakness but failed. They only remained as stock still as she was and the tigress wished vehemently for her sight, for any sort of sign that could aid her but received none. Meanwhile the other Were was wearily watching the tigress before her, noticing the obvious disability while trying to figure out how she even got there. One minute she had been walking near this academy place and then blackness. Now she was standing in this ring before another wereanimal with a weapon in her hand. Her position was clear but she would be damned if she didn’t go down without a fight.

After a few seconds of dead silence they moved for the strike in unintentional unison, the tiger’s working senses calculating the other female's height by the sound of her footsteps, unsure of the other's animal until they collided. Immediately the feeling of scales hit her and she recoiled on instinct alone, narrowly missing a strike aimed for her throat, hearing the attack as it pierced the air she had just been occupying. Wereserpent. Gripping the knife in her hand more securely, she bent and aimed a kick at her opponent's legs, missing but unbalancing the serpent enough to have an opportunity to lunge and knock her over. They landed on the ground, tiger on top and poised with her knife aimed at the struggling woman's chest, plunging the blade past tough skin with enough force to hit a lung (she knew were to hit to get past the ribcage even without sight) as the woman screamed and scratched at her. It was useless and the other female grew desperate as searing hot pain traveled through her, the shock of the wound obvious.

Ripping it back out with a slash to the right, Boa backed off immediately, sure of a retaliation as she was unable to see the expression of the other’s face. Faintly pride welled in her that she’d been able to strike true, training and instinct seeming to overcome her very obvious handicap and proving that sight was not a necessity in the recipe of winning. The wound appeared to surprise or stun the female when she didn’t appear to move right away, lagging response time and doing just what the tiger wanted, lithe body striking again and hitting the other Were with a stab near the kidney for good measure. Blood was beginning to fill her senses as she went in for another strike, unwilling to let up on her opponent's weakened state, when she was called victor.

Several bodies jumped into the ring at that point and in the heat of the moment the tigress lashed out at the one closest to her, blade burying itself deep in their shoulder before she realized that they weren’t attacking her only picking up her fallen opponent. The stranger fell with a grunt – more masculine than feminine – and Boa pulled the dagger out of the innocent victim and backed off while muttering a small apology that felt like a lie. Stupidity put them near a wild tiger and they got hurt, in that moment she couldn’t feel bad about it because if she did then she would start feeling bad for nearly killing the were in front of her. Emotion only hindered progression on the battlefield and it could get her killed. A few seconds passed as the healers – if they were even that – dragged the body of the serpent from the field and the next match was called. She was tense, body tingling with anticipation as her next challenger was revealed.

A young male emerged from where the serpent had originated, seemingly forced into the ring to face an unknown opponent. He was no older than twenty with dark hair and equally dark eyes, just as bewildered as the first contender, voice filled with confusion. “Where am I?” Eyes locking onto the woman before him, he took in her disheveled appearance noticing the bloody knife and the blood flecking her clothes, uneasiness building. Fear trickled into him as he looked at the crowd. Was this some sort of medieval gladiator match? Who the fuck even did those anymore it was the twenty-first century for Christ’s sake! Naivety shone in his eyes and had sight been suddenly bestowed upon the woman opposite him she would have known his inexperience but she didn’t and maybe it was good that she couldn’t see it.

When the smell hit her, distinctly human and male, something in her mind started to scream even as she shut it away, the imagine of Woobin hitting her like a ton of bricks even though it obviously wasn’t him. Whose sick idea was it to make her fight beings that would remind her of her mismatched family? Would a shadow person come up next? “Where am I?” was her next victim’s first words, voice higher than the man who stole her heart and further compounding the falsity of his likeness to her hunter. Clinging to that clear fact, she circled him, his scent of fear overwhelming her senses almost immediately as more questions tumbled from his lips. The beast in her rose as fear permeated the air around them, savagery climbing into her consciousness and making home as she waited for him to move.

When the strange woman started to circle him, he got nervous, licking his lips and reaching for one of his weapons. Was she going to attack him? Why wasn’t she saying anything? What was wrong with her eyes? A million questions flooded him as the tense silence stretched across them and when it became to be too much he lurched forward, voice rising as he lifted his arm, knife in hand. He was in over his head and he knew it but he couldn’t cower and hide. He couldn’t be like his brother.

It didn’t take long for the hunter to charge at her once he realized the predicament he was in, too inexperienced to know what she was on first glance it seemed, meeting thin air as she dodged easily and swiped her blade across his stomach before stepping back. His gasp and the tangy scent that only the red liquid in their veins held filling her nose told her everything she needed to know, going in for another cut at his legs this time. A thunk and pained cry meant he’d been downed but that didn’t mean he was incapacitated because a second later he was reaching to drag her down with him, strong hands clasping her ankles and pulling her downward, back hitting the ground hard. Anger exploded in the tiger that he even dared to touch her, old hatred building as she kicked him soundly in the head after regaining her breath, growling deep in her throat. “Bitch!” was his only reply, clutching his head in a pained way. She ignored his curse in favor of scrambling up to kick him again, this time in the chest and then to the wound at his stomach.

The kicks were hard and painful and when he could snatch a peek up her, head pounding, his blood went cold. Her expression wasn’t even human, twisted by hate, malice and desperation as her foot kept making contact with his body. In that moment he knew he was going to die, that she was going to kill him and that there was nothing he could do about it. She was a monster in the trappings of a beautiful woman and he’d been a fool to charge her, to attack this obvious unfeeling animal.

At any other normal time she would have stopped but something inside of her had snapped and she just kept kicking him over and over and over, hitting his stomach, groin, chest and face repeatedly until she felt like the weight that had descended upon her lifting. Leg lowering, she couldn’t tell if he was alive or not, moving away from the body to let whoever take it away, breathing escalated and knife held tightly in her hand, tight enough until her knuckles were white. There was blood on her shoe and pants able to smell it wafting up as it dried and she ignored it, ignored the beat of her heart and the objections her found morality had on all of this because now was not the time. There were more people to face and more battles to survive and she couldn’t afford to get sentimental. 

The next match was called; snapping her from her small reverie as the entire place went cold, mind trying to figure out what being would drop the temperature so quickly. It took her a couple seconds but when the words “Ice being” floated into her consciousness everything inside of the tigress went rigid. She’d never faced one before and was direly unfamiliar with its skills, only vaguely remembering Zico whom she had never faced in a fight. Caution filled her as it came out, almost immune to the cold for now. If the match lasted long there was no telling how well she would fare in the cold, slipping her blade into her pants before it came out in hopes that her high body temperature would warm it up.

Steely eyes regarded the dark-haired woman, the being having heard the other two matches and knowing that this was to be a fight. He felt her danger clear as day, the gift of winter warning him of her silent power. Looks could be deceiving and had he not been so blessed, he would have underestimated the petite female before him. Silently wishing her luck, he froze the entire arena and started to stalk toward her, confident in his skill yet still keeping his distance, unsure of if she had a weapon.

The ground under her feet went slick and Boa nearly tripped at the sudden change, catching herself just barely as her feet tried to find purchase on the icy surface. She could feel the other moving toward her, preparing something and the need to act fast rose, mind racing through the different battle tactics ingrained in her for a solution. Seconds that felt like millennia passed before an idea came, the memory of an altercation on a frozen lake she’d had years ago giving her a plan of attack. Lithe body dropping, she kicked at his legs only to propel to the right when the ice tried to lick up her legs to immobilize her. Sliding more than she anticipated, her body connected to the side of the ring roughly and she frowned, unable to stay in one place very long before the ice tried to freeze her in one place. It was tiring quickly and every time she tried to get close to him the ice got more eager to trap her, limbs becoming heavy as the time wore on. If he could only get closer she would be able to hit him and attempt to beat him, reserving energy for just a chance as she kept moving.

The debacle of the woman struggling on the ice was more amusing that he cared to admit, noting that she did handle the slick surface well but not well enough to be adept at staying on it. There was a cocky smile on his face as he toyed with her, wearing her out before he went in for a final strike. Truthfully he could have played with her all day but he was growing tired of just standing there trying to trap her so with a soft sigh he walked forward to where she was currently leaning on one of the walls of the ring. Ice was already beginning to lick up her shoes and he chuckled. “Sorry about this beautiful but you know how it is.” With that he quickened the ice’s ascent up her body, planning to freeze her right there.

She got her chance a couple minutes later while clutching at the solid surface that could only be a wall behind her, feeling the ice begin it’s attempt at trapping her. She hated staying still but the being was finally drawing close and when he got close enough she would attack. His words were meaningless and the more he cornered her the angrier the tigress got, using it to fuel her movements as she struggled against the frost that was beginning to bind her. Everything seemed to slow as she broke free and lunged forward, the knife she’d hidden now in her hand as warm body met the icy one of her opponent, not making it slow. Stabbing and slicing at whatever she could reach, the tigress was unrelenting and quick; hitting whatever vital organs she could until the blade became icy and useless. Swiftly dropping it, she began tearing at whatever cracks were made with her first assault, getting through the tough outer layer of the being and tearing at whatever soft tissue was underneath. During her entire assault she had been bit, punched and stabbed at with ice, so intent in her task that it didn’t interrupt her. Nothing would put an end to her onslaught until the danger was over.

When the other stopped struggling for at least three minutes was when she halted, all but collapsing back as she dropped away from her likely dead opponent. Her entire body was covered with a blood-like sludge; coating her hands thickly and she tried to wipe it off on her shirt and pants, faintly shaking from the cold and the adrenaline. Everything about her was numb and blank as she lied there and just focused on breathing, hearing everything from a distance as if she was underwater. Her head pounded and there were small surface wounds all across her body, spilling her blood onto the arena to mix with the other patches of blood on the ground. Faintly she thought it ironic, shutting everything out for a second before she lifted her aching body up, worn but determined to keep going as slim fingers searched for and found her weapon. Why get this far just to quit?

At this point the crowd was far from her mind, too focused on surviving to care, the ice below her feet having melted with the departure of the ice being and making the ground extremely wet. Her entire body hurt but Boa put that aside as she waited to see if yet another challenger was to arrive, eager to get this over with. What emerged was far from what she expected, cursing quite colorfully in her head as eight vibrations announced the entrance of her new adversary. What was that? There was no sound emanating from the creature just those eight thuds on the ground.

The arachna wasn’t overly fond of water and as he stepped out, a large frown formed on his face, half of his body that of a spider. He’d been taken while on a walk home, knocked out by some unseen force that hit him in the head before he could even think to turn around. The minute he’d woken up he’d transformed and listened as contestant after contestant had fought and lost to some unseen victor. Now it was his turn and with a flick of his wrist the arachna was surrounding the woman before him with webbing. One wrong move and she would be his.

Everything went deathly silent inside of the tigress’s mind, blanking for a moment from sheer exhaustion before her grip on her only weapon tightened and she geared herself up for this fight. In her hesitation the creature had begun forming webs around her, doing so almost silently enough that she didn’t even notice, senses sluggish. It was going to cost her, unable to tell where the traps he had set for her were. After a few cautious steps forward – the thing wasn’t even moving anymore – she felt something stick to her, trapping her even more the minute she began to struggle. Using the knife Boa cut at the substance relieved when it began to split and began hacking away at it earnestly, knowing she was in danger being stuck like this but unable to make her worn body move faster. 

She got trapped shortly thereafter and he couldn’t help but to lick his lips, feeling her struggle and try to free herself from his trap. It would be useless of course, his web one of the stronger ones and unless she had something extremely sharp it would take a couple minutes to escape but two minutes was all he would need to press his poison into her bloodstream. If left unattended for more than ten minutes after being introduced to his poison she would die and he would have a most succulent meal. Excitement bubbled in him and at the face of her immobilization his grotesque body steadily shifted back into that of a man, walking on two legs toward his new meal.

At this point the tiger was struggling so violently that she was only trapping herself further, knowing this but too angry to calm, growling deep in her chest. It was a dangerous sound, mind racing to figure out how to protect herself in such a predicament. She heard someone approach when she paused to catch her breath, sure that if expressions could kill then whatever it was would be dead already, acting just as wild as her animal counterpart. The sound of footsteps stopped just before her, a strangely tantalizing scent reaching her that was laced with sweetness and disaster. It made every hair on her body stand on end, flinching at as a deep chuckle made its way to her ear. “Aren’t you a pretty morsel?” She snarled in reply, more tiger than human. “And oh so spunky… I bet you taste delicious.” There was a pause, the introduction of someone else’s body warmth coming into her senses as the male stood before her, “Sleep well dear” his last muttered phrase before warm lips pressed to hers, sealing her fate.

She could feel the poison entering her system at a rapid pace and in a last ditch effort her hand came up, silver blade meeting and slipping through the skin of his neck like it was cutting butter. He pulled away quickly but by then she had reached and nicked a major artery, delivering a potentially fatal one in return for what he had just done to her. The last thing that met the tiger’s ears was a roar of unknown origins, unconsciousness overtaking her as the poison travelled her body.