How to build the perfect monster
Chewing the bars had not freed her today.
Chewing the bars had not freed her yesterday.
Chewing the bars had not freed her ever since she was thrown into this cell.
But that did not stop her from trying.
The sound of teeth gnawing against metal, peppered by angry growls and barks, filled the chamber holding them all prisoner. For the various monsters, captives and beasts, it was probably getting very annoying. But she didnāt care. She didnāt care about any of them- not even the ones who yelled at her. All she cared about was escaping.
Even in a place like this, deep underground and frozen in the dark, thereās still the sounds of life. Breathing. Muttering. Shuffling. All of that dropped silent as a stone as the door opened, revealing a slender, white haired dwarf dressed in fine silks and metal, beard carefully twisted into three neat plaits at varying lengths.
Anybody who had sense averted their gaze as he walked through the holding cells and barriers. Even the gigantic bugbear dipped his head. But not the new capture.
Borsin Darkthane stopped his walk directly in front of this juvenile gnoll, the phantom twitch of his missing finger merely a confirmation of why he hadnāt killed her. She, in turn, continued chewing the bars, seemingly unfazed by the awful sensation of metal against her canines.
Her eyes flicked up to him, and she snarled, a high pitched and patchy snarl of a beast yet to grow. Her fangs chattered, attempting to mimic the chatter of her mothers while they hunted, yet falling short.
āLet gha'an da'rĀ Ć³ evil kaal, Ć dech make Ć³ prey!ā She barked in a harsh tongue. Clicking his tongue, Borsin shook his head.
āNow that wonāt do. I want you to understand what a command is. Shall we start a little lesson, hm?ā
From the sheath at his waist, a sword was drawn, and every single creature except the two of them shrank further into their corners. Even she could sense something was coming, but she didnāt back down. The mothers taught her better than that. A warrior is strong in the face of danger! So with shoulders back and chest puffed out, she stood back on her hind haunches, teeth bared and claws extended, maintaining angry eye contact.
āWeāll turn that attitude around, my pet.ā
The sword collapsed, crackling with arcane enchantment, becoming a long, blade covered whip. His eyes sparkled, and her snarl faltered.Ā
The dust was getting into her nose, making it harder to breathe than it already was. Every wound hurt, her mouth ached and she could scarcely inhale. She was so, so tired.
A hand grabbed her neck scruff and yanked her harshly to her feet. She knew it wasnāt Borsin- he was already too small to do that to her anymore, even if it had only been a couple years. Staring at the feet of the bugbear, he kicked the hammer towards her again.
āMutilater, continue. I want her to understand whatās expected of her in the ring.ā Borsin said, almost sounding bored. The bugbear called Mutilater nodded, raising his two ice picks and shifting his stance to lunge. She just stood, coughing and clutching the parts of her that felt broken, staring down at the hammer.
āCanāt- cannot, is hurt-ā her tongue tried to twist around the āundercommonā tongue, struggling with the rounded sounds, just trying to explain why she needed to stop. This was too much training- this was too much pain.
āMutilater. I did not tell you to stop.ā
She hadnāt noticed that Mutilated had hesitated for so long until commanded to attack once more.
āPup, you cannot disobey like that again.ā Poppa said, gently tending to the deep slashes and punctures all over her body. She was growing fast, but still paled in size to him. Every hiss and wince of pain made him stop, hand hovering until she nodded it was okay.
āIt too hard. I bad fighter. Get too- get tooā¦ā her hands opened and closed to find the word in ācommonā. Both languages were difficult compared to her nature gnollish, but common was proving a lot easier to practice with Poppa.Ā
His giant bugbear hands took her comparatively tiny gnoll paws and squeezed gently.
āYou get tired. I understand. The pain- it can drain you like water down the soil.ā
He mimed water trickling down, crossing his eyes and making a surprisingly convincing draining pipe sound. It made her laugh, the chittering sound cheerful, even if the wheeze of stinging pain was layered underneath.
āBut, little pup.ā he lifted her chin up to look into her eyes. āYou must collect the rain, store it inside you, and become the storm. Pain might be your rainfall, but you? You can be the lightning inside the storm cloud.ā
With arms extended, he waited for her to clamber up and onto his chest, embracing the little girl tightly. It sickened him. Sickened him to his very core, to be training such a sweet thing to be a brutal killer like him. But if he didnāt, someone else would. And for all she was strong, feisty and naturally gifted, she was only a pup. Sheād be killed. The thought of losing her was the first real pain heād registered in decades.
She rested against him, content to hear his heartbeat and long, deep breathes, eyes closing shut. It didnāt seem like his beatings frightened her. She understood his role. She wasā¦ starting, to understand what hers was going to be.
ā... Poppa?ā she murmured
ā... Forget. What lightning look like?ā
āMaster- I can do better, I can-ā
His hand went to the hilt of his sword, and she sat down in a flash, ears pressed flat, head dipped, eyes wide and focussed on his immaculately shined shoes.
āMauler, weāve been over this, hm? Do you speak unless spoken to?ā
She was so much bigger than him now, yet had never felt so small. Afraid to utter a sound, she shook her head no.
āSo youāre not a complete imbecile. Good. Youāre officially doing the bare minimum.ā
Borsin clicked his tongue and she shrunk down even more, making the massive slashes across her back stretch open and ooze even more blood on the floor.
āMauler. When I decided I wanted you in the ring, itās because I believed you were ready to make me proud. So, tell me.āĀ
He lifted his boot and she already knew what he wanted. Lowered herself to the ground, his foot rested atop her skull, pressing down right on the spot the werewolvesā teeth had pierced the skin. She did not wince. She did not dare to wince.
āAre you purposefully trying to make a fool of me, hm? You want me humiliated? Bankrupted? Overthrown?ā He pucturated each word by grinding his heel against the cut, adding more dirt to the likely already festering infection.
Of course she wasnāt trying to do anything to him- nobody had the power to even breathe in his direction. But she didnāt know what else to do. Graduating out of training after 5 years was supposed to be a mercy, but now she was up against these new foes that sheād never met before. Dire wolves, giant apes, goliath warriors. She was bigger now. Every year she was bigger. But she wasnāt done growing, and everything she fought already was. She tore at tendons, ripped their skin and smashed their bones, but every fight so far, sheād fallen, only awoken by the familiar flavour of healing potions and the glare of her master beating down upon her.
Not once did he raise his voice, yet her heart was hammering.
āIāmā¦ I will- Iāll do better. Iāll fight harder. Iāll be- Iāll maul. Iāll maul next time. I promise.ā
It was such a pitiful retort but it was the only one she had. The tip of a blade pressed down against the nape of her neck, and she could not contain the high, fearful whine.
āUgh, pathetic. Fine. You say youāll maul? Iāll help you to maul.ā
Big brother threw another rock at the door of the chamber, hitting it was a loud, echoing din.
āWill you shut up, you brat?!ā Snarled a one eyed dragonborn from her cage, staring daggers at the half drow. āFor fucks sake, do you want to be murdered?ā
āIād rather do the murdering.ā He muttered, kicking up more pebbles to throw. She rolled her eyes, turning away and back to her rest.
āYouāll have your chance, boy. Let us rest before we get ours.ā
Big brother glared at the door, willing it to open. He wanted, more than anything, for Borsin to walk through the door. Then, heād get him with the special rock. The big, spiky one stashed in his pocket. Heād get him right under the ribs, full force, and make him fall to his knees in pain.
Then heād know what he was doing to his sister.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned to check on her. She was in the cell next to his. Eventually someone learned he stopped shouting and swearing if they were put near enough to talk, and that had been their arrangement ever since. She lay on her side, arms wrapped around her withering form, fur on end from shivering. The same spot sheād lain in for days.
āPup?ā He approached, voice so much quieter and softer when directed her way. āPup, are you asleep?ā
She didnāt move. For an absolutely horrifying split second, he wondered if sheād finally died.
āPup??ā Dropping to his knees, he pressed against the bars, trying desperately to reach her.Ā
In a flash, she spun, grabbing his skinny arm with her massive paw. Yelping, he tried to pull away, but it was like trying to escape a bear trap. Her grip held firm, claws starting to dig into the skin.
He finally registered the dark, low snarl coming from her chest, and when he looked at her face, he did not see his sister. He saw a gnoll that had been starved for 5 days, staring at the closest thing to meat she could find. Eyes wide and dilated, teeth bared, saliva dripping off her chin.
āPup- Pup stop it!! Itās me!ā She shouted, begging her to snap out of it, but it fell upon deaf ears. Yanking his arm until it felt ready to tear off, his fingers was close enough to her mouth to feel the heat of feverish, desperate breath.
Reaching into his pocket, he took the spiky rock, and threw it directly into her face, catching her between the eyes. Yelping, she jumped back, releasing his arm and sending his flying backwards. The socket ached and blood dripped down his wrist, but otherwise, he was unharmed.Ā
āFuckā¦ā he swore, rubbing the fresh cuts. Heād have to ask poppa if he could talk the guards into extra water, he couldnāt afford to lose his fast hands just yet.
From inside her cell, Pup was also dealing with fresh wounds. Her claws dug into her shoulders, scratching herself until she had enough pain to focus on something other than what sheād just tried to do.
She wanted to scratch the itch under her fangs.
She wanted the hunger to stop.
Sheād tried to eat big brother.
Good God. She tried to eat her big brother
ā... Pup?ā
āGo awayā¦āĀ
Big brother stood, gripping the bars of his cage and watching her shiver, clawing at her own skin as she rocked back and forth.
Heād been caught stealing documents only a few months ago. It was a higher end gig, but heād been keen to prove himself to the gang. Their name was long forgotten since capture. Now, he was the little knife artist in the ring, zipping between the legs of giant spiders only to cut them navel to chin, showing himself in entrails. But he hadnāt come easy. Heād kicked and spit and screamed every single second of the day, almost daring them to come back and torture him. After all, dirt deserves dirt.
Then a gnoll shared her bread with him. She was matted, her ears a little too big and littered in a map of scars. Heād snarled curses in all the languages he knew, and sheād torn her little bread loaf in half to make sure he didnāt go hungry.
She turned 10. They threw her into the ring for adults- or talented teens like him. She was good. But not good enough for Borsin. And now, he was trying to starve her into a feral beast.
What frightened him, was it was working,
The door opened, and everyone shrank into their corners. Pup looked up, face hopeful and desperate all at once, crawling towards Borsin and sitting like a dog. Her nose twitched and he swore he could hear the pained whine clamped being her jaws.
āWell, Mauler, have we learned our lesson?ā
She nodded so hard her neck seemed ready to snap. Borsin smiled, pulling an insultingly small bone from a pouch at his side, twirling it between his fingers.
āThere, now was that so hard?āĀ
He tossed it in, and Pup lunged, snatching it before it even touched the ground.
Big brother watched his sister freeze in place, holding a scrap of food, eyes fixated on it, standing motionless.
The moment became a minute.
Big Brother banged a furious fist on the bars.
āYouāve made you point you fucking coward!ā He shouted, kicking at the metal more out of sheer fury than an attempt to reach him.
Borsin didnāt flinch, simply watching Pup. At last, he seemed satisfied, snapping his fingers and letting her eat the morsel.
āYou have twenty minutes until the fight starts. There will be no more healing potions. This is your last chance. I do not like my investments to fail.ā
Turning, Borsin walked towards the door, and snapped his fingers. The five guards emerged from the shadows, standing to attention and awaiting his command.
āWhoever said our little thief was in line needs to be sent with the illithid shipment. Sort him for me- if that happens again I wonāt be so kind next time.ā
He didnāt watch the guards approaching him, shackles ready to drag him to the correction room. All he could do was watch his sister lick her paws for any possible missed fragments of bone. Finding none, she just stared at him, her eyes shimmering with tears and regret.
ā... I love you.ā She whispered so quietly he couldnāt hear it over the chains being wrapped around his wrist. He knew what she mean though. He could read those three words on her lips by now.
āGood luck out there.ā He murmured, digging his heels into the ground to make it harder for him to be dragged. He knew he was about to lose all his toenails and the tip of his tongue, but he didnāt care. All he could hope for was his sister winning this fight- for her own sake.
The next time it happened, Big Brother was ready.Ā
Pup was sick. An infection that finally took hold. She fought, because she knew there as no alternative, but she wasnāt performing. Borsin didnāt like that. So she sat, curled in on herself, willing herself to ignore the hunger that tore her in half. Her head shot up eagerly with every opening of the door, and she faced the wall as others ate.
She didnāt sleep much when like this. She was in too much pain. Big Brother waited until as many people were asleep as possible, before crawling in the dark to her cell.
āPup, come closer, I canāt reach.ā
He heard her scamper away.
āGo away, Big Brother- I donāt want to hurt you again.ā She hissed, not unkindly.
āYou wonāt, please, come here. I have food for you.ā
Her breathing hitched, and she moved closer, sniffing the air.
āDonātā¦ donāt trick me, please. Itās not funny.ā She muttered, but he shook his head, holding out his palm.
āNot a joke. Here, take them, and donāt drop any.āĀ
He felt for her hand in the dark, and for a brief second, imagined her ripping off his arm and tearing the flesh from the bone. But despite hearing her stomach growling, she made no sudden movements, letting him place the four tiny snake eggs into her palm.
ā...Where-ā she started, before registering them as food and devouring them, hardly chewing. He sighed, relieved and a little amused at howā¦ puppyish, she could be.
āI found a den near my cell, thereās a crack in the wall. We shouldnāt abuse it, but when he doesā¦. This, to you, I can help.ā
Pup was so big. Four eggs hardly the size of walnut each werenāt going to help. He seethed, knowing how useless he was in here. How fucked up it was to torture them all like this. How much it hurt watching the first family heād ever given a shit about suffer.
Her paws took his hands, and gently tugged him down, so the two were lying in the dark, hands held tightly.
āI love you.ā She said, her smile obvious in her tone. Damnit. He couldnāt help himself, smiling back at her.
āI love you too, furball.ā
Poppa was old. Old like an oak tree. Big, strong, wise. Bad smelling. He trained the new captives that Borsin deemed āinvestmentsā. He lay awake at night knowing his was breaking the bones and spirits of terrified children.
Big brother was young in the old way. He never got big, but he was fast. It was enough to keep him around- a change in pace from brutes and monsters. He never learned how to shut his mouth though, and had been muzzled because of it. He knew how to pick the lock. He knew once he did, theyād cut out his tongue. So he kept it on, waiting for the day he could say the pages of insults heād been storing up.
Pup was grown. She wore golden collars and chains. She was gifted her own weapon- a beautiful piece of art. Gold, rare leather, a maul that only she was permitted to use. She had luxuries now. Blankets, meat, time to sleep. Anyone enslaved knew that Mauler was Borsinsā favourite- his own little project. A monster who didnāt just win, but who entertained, earring screaming cheers and people returning with more money just to see her kill the unlucky contenstant.
You did not mess with Mauler. You did what everyone else did. You hated Mauler with every single fiber of your being. Seethed with rage at every extra portion of food she got, every rest day, every interaction between her and Borsin. She glared at her in silent, sickened loathing.
But you did not mess with her. Not because sheād kill you outside the ring. But because you never knew if Borsin had eyes on the bars. Never knew who might be dragged off kicking and screaming the the illithid shipments for daring to damage his precious golden dog.
No. You did not mess with Mauler. Just like you didnāt mess with Mutilater and Thief.
Pup curled up tighter, trying to shrink against Poppa. Big brother stirred, looking over to his little sister.
āYou okay?ā He asked, knowing the answer already. She shook her head. Poppa, who these days breathed a little wheezier, slung an arm around them both. Big Brother rolled his eyes, but made no move to escape.Ā
āIt is never okay. And that will have to be okay.ā He rumbled. It was a phrase he said often when things were bad. He said it a lot.
āI justā¦ Poppa, Big Brother? Do you thinkā¦ā her paws flexed open and closed the way they always did when she couldnāt find the word. She spoke common and undercommon just fine, but the intricacies of words beyond 5 syllables had always been a struggle.
ā... do you think Iāmā¦ bad?ā
āFuck no.ā Big Brother resplied immidietly, and Poppa clipped behind his ear.
āNow, why would you think such a clearly untrue thing, little Pup?ā he said, letting the girl he known since she was a chittering child lean further against him.
āI just- I donātā¦ i know I- I know we HAVE to fight, butā¦ā
There were a lot of words to describe how nightmarish this all was. She didnāt say a single one of them. They both understood exactly what she meant.
āSurviving is not evil, pup. A bear is not evil for eating fish, a hawk is not evil for hunting mice.ā
āAnd youāre not evil because a 3ā4 fuckboy shithead picked a crappy career choice.ā Big brother said, not even dignifying the grumpy glare of Poppa with an acknowledgement.
āBut I donāt know how to let people know itās notā¦ me, out there. Itās never me out there itāsā¦ itās Mauler.ā
Poppa nodded, remembering holding ice picks over a little gnoll girl begging for mercy in a language he couldnāt understand.
āThey will know. It time, they will know.ā
Pup just curled up closer to him, sadness in her face, but contentment in her eyes. She reached out to Big Brother, who made a very big show of letting her hug him close.
Mauler stood, cackling with every golden tooth on display, holding up the second leg of her victim to a rabid shrieking crowd. Tossing it to the side, she held out her arms, glittering golden maul over head head and turning a slow 360, displaying how every gaping would meant nothing to someone as powerful and terrifying as her.
Borsin sat in his box, sipping wine, looking bored. Her victories were as standard to him as the morning paper. But hearing the crowd simmer down, he took his cue to extend a hand andĀ turn his thumb down. Time to finish the job.
Mauler grinned, eyes wide and shoulders at an unnatural angle, setting the maul down to send this opponent unconscious. After all, he was crippled and would never fight again. A perfect meal for the illithid traders.
Beneath her feet, she stared down at the limbless body of Poppa, eyes half lidded, saturated in his own blood and guts. She laughed and laughed and laughed as tears streamed down her face, her muscles shaking with disgust, grief and agonizing horror.Ā
āLittle Pupā¦ā he gurgled, and Pup picked up her maul despite the blazing stare of their master.
āI am so, so proud of youā¦ā
She brought the weapon down upon his head, splatting brain and skull like a ink across a canvass onto the sandy floor of the pit.Ā
That, was not protocol. Crippled fighters became illithid food.Ā
This is not what she was trained to do.
Borsin readied his weapon.
Mauler threw back her head and screamed. Screamed while laughing, clutching her skull like she wanted to tear herself free of the prison of her own skin.
And the crowd went insane.
Big Brother never saw Poppa again.
He sat, waiting for his next chance to fight, alone in his cell.
Pup had asked to be placed in a cell away from everyone else. Borsin, of course, had given his favourite fighter what she wanted.
He knew sheād killed him. He knew she had no choice. Heād seen her fight. She had earned her title of āgolden dogā. He knew something was forever coded into her brain, something she had no control over.
He boiled with anger. Anger for being captive. Anger for losing his poppa. Anger that his sister killed him. Anger that she was gone. Anger Borsin had brought her to this.Ā
Mauler belonged to Master.
Mauler knew she had a name when she lived with her pack. She must have. Her littermates had names, the many mothers had names, even the men had names. So she must have had a name.
Pup was her good name. And she killed the man who named her that. So she did not deserve it anymore.
Thatās what she deserved.
It was a very big fight tomorrow. The Gallear family were coming, and it was very important she make Borsin look good for them. Being hungry never stopped hurting, but it was okay. It wasnāt okay, but, it would have to be okay. She had to be feral for this- it was what Borsin wanted.
In the corner of her isolated cell, lived a snakeden. Just tiny things, she didnāt know the name. The den had exactly 12 eggs in it. That was the most sheād ever seen.
The eggs sat untouched, even as her golden collar was attached, maul in hand, thirsting for blood and meat, numbly walking the familiar path towards the ring.
Just another fight to win.
