Cold, despite the sunny day outside, this cell is colder than you would think. Not because the temperature here is low, no, not at all. It's...how should I put it? Unwelcoming. A bed made of hay that's sitting neatly on the gray stone. The walls are also made of stone, with deep scratches marking the days. The longest time someone's been here was three hundred sixty-five days, right up to the next tournament, where they probably died. The other people who have been here have died for different reasons, their stays shorter. The bucket, oh that damn bucket. A dirty, rusty bucket for our needs in the corner. And also the bars, same as the bucket, rusty and bent.
But there are some good things here, three to be precise. The small hole is covered with some new bars that let the sun shine through. A piece of broken glass that serves as a mirror. And a cleaner bucket filled with water under the mirror. But the worst thing here is the stench: blood, faeces, and death.
Eve rises from the bed of hay and walks to the mirror, staring at her reflection for a while. She grabs her short, dirty hair and begins to analyse it.
"It's been a while since I thoroughly washed it. Whose blood is this?"
She looks at the dried blood that's on her hair.
"Probably not mine."
She bends down towards the water bucket and scoops a handful of water, then splashes it on her face. Even though the water is lukewarm, it makes her shiver. She repeats this a couple more times, then she dunks her whole head in the water. The dried blood doesn't give up so easily. After a series of dives, she is finally clean. Her face going back to the mirror, scanning herself for a while. With the bandages on her arms, she starts wiping her face and hair. Once she is done, the bandages fall into the bucket, which has turned a shade of red. Half of them are floating in the water, and the rim of the bucket separates the other half. Touching the water but not falling straight into it.
After the bandages leave her forearms, her gaze falls towards her scars that have been exposed. She looks at them for a while, then goes back to the stack of hay. Sitting on it, while hugging her knees close to her chest.
She is cleaner than ever, but feels dirtier than she ever has been, like an animal that's going to perform at a circus. She is deep in thought. Can she meet Elyon's expectations? Can she keep her promise to that child of giving him a show he will never forget? Can she meet Sarah again? She doesn't know.
She doesn't realise how much time has passed. The sun falling and giving way to the beautiful dusk. The stench became more bearable. Her body grows heavier, and so do her eyelids. She lies on the stack of hay and closes her eyes. Sleep claims her.
She is awakened after a while with a constant banging on her cell's bars.
"Wake up, rat." A man's voice resonates through the corridors
She is startled and looks through her room for her sword, but doesn't find it. She forgot they'd taken it once they'd locked her here.
"I...I am awake." She answers, meeting the man's piercing gaze. He is a guard, one of the guards who dragged her into this cell. He is dressed in heavy iron armour, with a halberd in his right hand and a piece of paper in his left hand. His face was barely visible through the helmet. But she knows his face was full of disgust at the sight of her.
The man mumbles something under his breath, then throws the piece of paper inside.
"Look over it, these are the brackets. Your first opponent will be a guy named Galbert. The former cult leader of the Hell's party."
"Hell's party? Who did they worship?" Asks Eve, her voice quivering slightly.
The man looks at her, not speaking for a while. "They worshipped the Goddess of Hell. You should know that, or wait, I forgot. You are too much of an idiot to learn basic stuff like this."
She wants to say something back to him, but holds herself back.
"You have any idea how much we searched for you? How much we wanted you here? Yet you decided to show up uninvited and ruin our fun. Because of you, we had to redo the bracket at the last moment."
She tries to pay him no mind by studying the newly made brackets. But his words have some effect on her.
"Get ready, you will have the second fight. The first one is Gladys, which will only take a moment."
He turns around and begins to walk away.
"Doesn't matter either way if you get ready or not. You will still die by his hand. That is, even if you get to him."
Then the man is nowhere to be seen; he left. Eve crumbles the papers, almost ripping it in half. She starts to bite her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. "I will fucking win." Her voice full of frustration.
After a bit, she calms down, and she looks at the window. It's night, the tournament should start.
Right on cue, a voice is heard loud and clear throughout the Colosseum.
It's the announcer.
"Everyone, welcome to the 7th annual Grand Colosseum tournament, on this fine night. I, the host Theofilus, will be in your care. We hope to see some amazing fights, especially from our beloved champion, Gladys The Absolute. Will he reign victorious this year? Or will he fall victim to another criminal? Only time will tell. But enough of chit-chatting, let the night begin."
The crowd erupts in a sea of cheers and wails of joy. The cheers are the sound that confirms it.
It has begun.