Dolls by D.I. Jolly (The Camp Part 2/3)

Michal slipped back into his usual morning routine but couldn’t help but feeling off flatter, and wondered if what was left of his spirit had finally given up.

When he stood outside the arena the doors waiting for them to open, he thought again about giving up and letting them kill him and letting it be over. Then his mind went to the girl, and how desperate she had looked when she thought he would resist. He wondered where she was kept normally. She didn’t look like she was forced to train like the fighters. The doors to the arena opened, and for the first few seconds, Michal found himself distracted and unfocused. Then the first hit landed, knocking him off his feet and back to his senses.

No weapons this time, hand to hand with two other boys, both larger than him but also both new. Having landed a solid hit gave them both a bit of confidence, but it didn’t change the outcome. Once Michal had managed to break the neck of the boy who’d hit him, the courage left the other and the fight ended quickly. As usual, at the end, he turned to face the Psycho and bowed.

“Interesting, did yesterday’s reward distract you perhaps? I hope not, it’s waiting for you again. This time though, try and enjoy it. It’s your new toy, it’s your plaything to do with what you will. I want you to have fun with it.”

It… Thing… Toy… The words send a bolt of red-hot rage through Michal’s mind, but he contained himself. He bowed and thanked his captor. He was then led back to his room where she was waiting for him. Once again she helped him wash out the blood before they returned to his bed, and all without speaking. When they’d finished and simply lay together Michal realised that being with her was the first none violent contact he’d had since being taken. She lay in his arms and together they felt safe there.

In the morning he woke and read the walls again and fought to forget that feeling. At the start of the next fight, he first had to battle himself and get his mind on what he was doing before he could focus the other boys. The rest of the week continued the same way until the end of the fifth fight. He had once again won, but once again had taken a few blows that he would normally have been able to avoid. He turned and bowed at the Psycho.

“Michal boy, this has been an interesting week, watching you has become fun again and I like it. So tomorrow we will up the stakes. Tonight your toy will not be waiting for you, but tomorrow it will be here to watch you. So get some sleep.”

His room felt empty without her and a cold loneliness had crept in. He found it hard to fall asleep without her there and woke up feeling strange, angrier than he’d expected, and nervous. As he showered he thought about her watching him fight. Would she be excited? Would she be horrified? Would she feel anything? Which was better? These questions continued to circle his mind until he stepped into the arena. He took a moment and scanned the seating area for his reward until he saw her. Hanging above the arena floor, strung up like a marionette doll with her eyes forced open staring down at him. Suddenly the other doors opened and instead of boys, guards marched in, all armed and smiling.

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