[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIVE

There was only one last, desperate thing Klot could do, to keep himself from being crushed by the Zyxlag’s closing claws: he powered up his sword and threw it at the beast’s eyes.

There was a thin layer of laser-resistant armor over its eyelids, but they could not stop the lightning from chaining up into its eyes.

The Zyxlag screeched, a horrendous sound that chilled Klot to the bone, and opened its massive claw, flailing its arm to send him spinning away. He hit the floor of the arena and skidded face-first across it, but as soon as he stopped, he was rolling back up to his feet, holding up his pistol.

But it appeared the Zyxlag was finished with fighting. The huge caterpillar was writhing around on the floor in obvious pain, tail and arms lashing out in any and every direction, still emitting that ear-piercing, brain-stopping screech. Klot could not even hear the Vamps; if they were hissing, it would be pleasure, but if they were laughing, it would be disapproval of his actions.

He ducked the Zyxlag’s tail, which again skimmed his head, and felt a great sense of relief. He had beaten this mighty monster, the greatest of all Vamp pit beasts, without help from anyone but his trusty weapons.

Still, he thought, if I hadn’t had the electro-sword, I would have been in deep water.

But he had had the sword, and he had defeated it. Now he just had to make sure it did not crush him in its painful throes, perhaps even death throes. A door hissed open in the side of the pit, and he turned toward it to see one of the Vamp attendants moving toward him.

He could not hear the Vamp through the Zyxlag’s screams of pain, but he could read the mouth: You’ve won! You’ve won! You are the greatest gladiator in all of history, Fangus Klot!

Fangus nodded coldly. Truly, he was the greatest. He knew that for a fact. Never had there been a gladiator who had never lost, before he came along. Klot had beaten his gladiator trainer – a huge Steef – on his first try, and had passed each and every match with differing varieties of ease and pain.

“I am the best,” he said to himself – not in a bragging way, but simply because it was the truth. “I am the best.”

He deactivated his electric sword – ducked a claw-swipe from the Zyxlag – and gave both the blade and the pistol back to the Vamp. It always made him heavy-hearted to return his weapons; no captive, even the greatest gladiator in history, was allowed to keep weapons on his person in the Vamp Empire.

But his sorrow for being a captive was completely eliminated by his joy at being a winner. The only time he had ever lost a fight was when the Vamps had come through the Fangus’ grassland territory, burning and pillaging as they came, and killed his father and brother, enslaved his people, and eaten his whole flock of Devil Sheep.

Someday, he would have revenge. But first…

Klot entered the exit passage, and spread his shoulders as wide as they would go. First, he would bask in the glory of his might.

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