1

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

Written by: LOREN COLEMAN

Foreword by: ROBERT SHOFKOM

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THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

Written by: LOREN COLEMAN

Foreword by: ROBERT SHOFKOM, president of Hack And Slash Game Company

Originally published on the OphidianGames.com website under the Title The SAGA

2003 Ophidian Inc.

2015 Hack and Slash Gaming Company Inc.

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FOREWORD

In the late 1990s three college students (Shaun Mahar, Gregg Schwartz, and Raffi

Tasci) who were avid gamers and friends since grade school created a strategic combat card

game. The game, Ophidian 2350, would go on to consume more than five years of their lives

as they worked tirelessly to bring it to the masses.

By all accounts, the Ophidian Team (later joined by Carl Van Ostrand, a super fan and

beta tester) did everything a new game startup should. They went through a two and a half year

patent review process to make sure their game was unique and not infringing on any other

games. They signed Fleer Entertainment to be their publisher and printer. They did extensive

Alpha and Beta testing to make sure their game was well received. They built a Lore around

the game and hired a professional writer to develop story content around that lore. They

created a tournament structure and developed special rules and prize support for their game.

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They showcased their game at high level conventions such as Origins and pushed the

envelope for incorporating fan support into their web presence.

All of these things garnished them rave reviews in all the trade publications at the time

(keep in mind this was back in the AOL/dial up days when social media didnt even exist) and

got their publisher to double the art budget and green light the first of many expansions to the

game! It looked like their dream was about to come true

And then came the letter from Hasbro, who had recently purchased Wizards of the

Coast and their multimillion dollar card game Magic the Gathering. The letter claimed that

Ophidian Games and Fleer Entertainment had committed patent Infringement and were

prepared to do a lengthy legal battle to uphold their card game patent for Magic the Gathering.

Technically, Hasbro didnt have a legal leg to stand on (as the patent review process had

already proved NO INFRINGEMENT with ANY EXISTING game patents), but they DID have the

money and clout to drown the fledgling game startup in legal fees in a prolonged court battle.

The Ophidian Team tried to mount a defense but couldnt get any support from their publisher,

Fleer Entertainment, who was having some financial troubles unrelated to Ophidian 2350.

Three months after the game was declared a Success Fleer Entertainment pulled the

plug and effectively killed the five year dreams of the Ophidian Team.

Over the years, the guys tried several times to stage a comeback but the timing never

seemed to be right. Then in late 2013, a large cache of inventory (over twenty thousand

pounds) that had been lost in Fleer Entertainments bankruptcy, and subsequent asset purchase

by Upper Deck found its way to eBay.

I owned a comic and gaming store in 2003 and was one of the first stores to actively

support and promote the game as an alternative to Magic the Gathering. While I didnt know

the back story, I always wondered why the game disappeared so quickly after coming out to

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such fanfare. By 2014, I had long since sold my shop, but liked to surround myself with

memorabilia and occasionally would search eBay for relics of that era in my life. Late one night,

in 2014 I came across an eBay seller listing massive quantities of Ophidian 2350 and it peaked

my interest. I formulated a plan, and reached out to a good friend and former employee of my

old store. We had been in talks of opening up another gaming venture, but then we saw this

we knew we had to bring Ophidian 2350 back.

After several months of back and forth with the old Ophidian Team, we secured a license

to reprint and create new content for the game. We also purchased all the old inventory and

had it transported to Houston, TX. Hack and Slash Gaming Company was formed and we are

now working on bringing back Ophidian 2350 to market.

The novella you are now holding was a story created around the Ophidian 2350 lore.

Im reproducing this in print form as a FREE, Not For Resale, publication to showcase the

efforts of the original Ophidian Team in trying to make their game unique and special.

I hope you enjoy it.

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INDEX

Chapter 1: CENTER STAGE 7

Chapter 2: BLINDSIDED 12

Chapter 3: JINXED 19

Chapter 4: RAW DEAL 25

Chapter 5: DARKNESS FALLS 32

Chapter 6: COMMON GROUND 38

Chapter 7: PROPOSITIONED 45

Chapter 8: PURGATORY 52

Chapter 9: HARD CHANCES 58

Chapter 10: IN THE SHADOW OF FAILURE 65

Chapter 11: STANDING OVATION 74

Chapter 12: THE COLD TASTE OF VICTORY 84

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THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-1-

CENTER STAGE

Solop Avagar, Justich System

A pair of neural-sai danced around David Freakshow Dangers, dripping bilious green

energy across the arenas brightmetal floor like some kind of poison. Blood oozed from a deep

set of scalp wounds. It matted his long, sweat-soaked hair and trickled down the left side of his

face. Where blood dripped onto his shoulder and bare chest it was lost among a tangle of dark,

tribal tattoos and body piercings.

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He circled warily, his last discus curled tight against his right forearm, trying to watch the

swords, his opponents, his partner. One neural-sai struck against his hardened, golden aura.

Freakshow stumbled as his protection shattered into a shower of prismatic flashes. Overhead,

the holotron monitor magnified the blow to titanic proportions, and a sell-out crowd of two million

fans shouted and clapped and stomped their approval. The voice of the telecommuting

audience, billions strong, roared through the open sensory fields like some kind of avenging

spirit sent to encourage the violence and the bloodshed.

The gladiators needed little encouragement.

Questing out with his aura, Freakshow felt tendrils of demonic power linking the swords

back to Gothu Ngarals mind. The amber-skinned demon limped up on the arenas far right side,

controlling both sai telekinetically. Down-turned horns gleamed black with new polish and his

fanged snarl promised death. Goth Garal roared, spewing a gust of red spores into the air

which swirled and swarmed toward PKanother demon with a nearly unpronounceable name,

and Freakshows partner in todays Dynamic Duo preseason match-up.

A first-tier gladiator on the downslide in ratings, PK barely belonged in the same arena

as Freakshow, or even Goth Garal. He couldnt even resist a simple, demon-spawned plague.

PK had just opened a portal, summoning a pair of two-headed hell hounds. Now he backed

away quickly before the spores found him. They swarmed the hounds instead. One beast

flopped over immediately, twitching and foaming at both mouths. The other hound scampered

aside, then bent back to PKs will. It charged the alien construct Pago, who came in from the left

with murder burning in his bloodshot eyes. Pago caught the beast in razor-tipped hands, raised

it overhead, shredding muscle and bone as if they were nothing to his drug-induced strength.

One of Pagos mega-fans ran up with a bucket of red dye and dashed it over the heads

of several of Freakshows cheerleaders.

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The crowd loved it.

Outrage came later. Freakshow feinted with the discus, threatening an overhead throw

at Pago. He felt the shift in Goth Garals attention, spun at the last moment to swat one of the

neural-sai out of the air. It clattered across the brightmetal floor but quickly skipped back into the

air.

The second sword drove in at him and he took it against the ebony vambrace protecting

his left arm. The discharge of neural energy scalded his arm from elbow to wrist, pricking him

with thousands of tiny, white-hot needles. Hundreds of spectators gasped, feeling only a

shadow of the psychic wound through the Ophidians broadcast emitters. Something you

couldnt get at home, even though the live feed.

PK hunched down impossibly low, opened another portal, reaching into the vortex of

energies with a long, muscular arm. Dragging some new monstrosity in from the demon

dimensions or from the other side of the galaxy, Freakshow didnt care. Not so long as it kept

Pago fully occupied this time. He wanted Goth Garal. Freakshow swiped at his chin, smearing

blood up the side of his face. A measure of his battle-weary state, that his regenerative powers

had not scabbed the wound yet or that his nanite-laced blood could not be pushed to stitch it

closed.

Or maybe Pago had coated his razors with one of Goth Garals anticoagulant infections.

He wouldnt put that past them.

The swords dove in again, and this time Freakshow pushed to meet them with great,

swinging arcs, bashing them aside with the flat of his heavy discus. He pumped more nanite-

laced blood into his muscles, and then still more. His next swing smashed one neural-sai

against the glowing brightmetal floor, and its green, poisonous light sparked into a hundred

wriggling worms which died in black crisps of smoke.

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It bought him a few precious seconds.

Freakshow ducked the remaining sword, sprinted past Pago and PK, closing with Goth

Garal before the demon fully recovered from the psychic drain. Blood flowed freely, stinging his

left eye. He leapt almost twice his own height into the air. A flexible spine of titanium-laced

graphite allowed Freakshow to whipsaw about, hurl his discus back at Pago, then continue the

mid-air spin as he dove down at Goth Garal.

His flying kick caught Gothu in the throat, driving the demon back several paces.

Freakshow landed hard, rolled, and sprang up with adrenaline-charged reflexes.

The crowds favor shifted back toward Freakshow, where it belonged. In the Justich

Federation, no gladiator topped the ratings as he did. He deserved their full attention. Their

tumultuous roar buffeted the battling combatants, shaking the Ophidian arena with loud fists.

Freakshow strengthened his aural suppressors, slammed both hands into Goth Garals brawny

midsection and then again into thedemons groin.

Freakshows scalp wound gushed blood now, the simple wound growing worse the

longer he stood in the demons shadow. He tasted the blood on his lips, salty, copperish. Both

eyes burned as blood washed over his face. Now the human gladiator knew that Ngaral had

somehow affected his healing ability, either through infection or by inducing a bio-tek mutation

that Freakshows nanotechnology couldnt counteract. Not good. He had to push his advantage,

now, before he bled out from a simple laceration.

He wouldnt get the chance.

Freakshow felt the telekinetic shield slipping in between them, pushing him back from

the muscular demon. His next blow never landed, slowing, as if caught in a repulsor field, and

easily avoided.

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Goth Garal snarled, slammed meaty hands down onto Freakshows shoulders once,

twice, nearly driving the human gladiator to the arena floor. The demon raked bloody furrows

down Freakshows sides, digging thick nails past skin and flesh, tearing into KEV armor

beneath.

The weave of monomolecular threads filed down Goth Garals claws to blunt nubs.

Which did nothing against the monsters great strength. With one large hand, Goth Garal

grabbed Freakshow around the throat, raised him in a stiff-armed grip above the brightmetal

floor. Freakshow managed to lock both hands around the demons other wrist, keeping Goth

Garal from gouging out his eyes. It was all he could do to hold the thick fingers back from his

unscarred face.

Not much of a victory, he thought, his vision darkening as Goth Garal squeezed and

slowly began to choke the life out of David Dangers.

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THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-2-

BLINDSIDED

Solop Avagar, Justich System

David Dangers kicked against the muscular legs of Goth Garal as the powerful demon

held him suspended above the arenas brightmetal floor. The roar of blood pounded in Davids

ears. His scalp wound bled freely, and blood mixed with sweat washed down his face, stinging

his eyes, burning on the edge of his lips.

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The taste of defeat would be salty, not bitter.

He was nearly spent, able to do nothing against the meaty hand currently choking the

life out of him. He used all of his strength to hold Goth Garals other hand away from his face,

his eyes. He certainly didnt expect help from his partner. PK fought his own losing battle

against the alien construct, Pago. He quieted his heartbeat, dealing with the lack of oxygen, but

his decreased circulation no longer flushed away the exertion poisons building in his muscles.

It also dulled the strident pulse which echoed in his ears. Through his aural filters, David

heard the audience roaring their support, chanting his stage name over and over. Freakshow!

Freakshow!

His name hammered into the arena, millionsbillions!strong. The Solop Avagar

audience shouted and stamped. Thousands beat against the arenas restraint fields, causing

the thin energy barriers to crackle with golden energy. Freakshows cheerleaders coerced them

into the rousing chant, and the open sensory network dumped raw energy onto the floor as the

remote audience on a hundred nearby worlds overpowered anything else.

FreakSHOW!

Digging into the last of his reserves, he pushed his nanite-charged muscles. He levered

Goth Garals hand back centimeter by centimeter. The demon snarled, squeezed tighter.

Freakshow pulled the human in close, sucked in a great breath to spew forth a demon-spawned

pestilence.

Freakshow pulled one hand back from Garals arm and pistoned his fist into the demons

throat.

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Choking, the demon stumbled back. Dragging Freakshow along with him proved to be a

mistake as David batted aside the demons free hand and used both fists to pummel Garal

about the neck and face.

The plague caught in Goth Garals throat, and the amber-skinned demon flushed mottled

red and purple across his barrel chest. Freakshow slammed stiff-armed him in the face,

breaking off a canine fang.

Goth Garal dropped Freakshow to the brightmetal floor. The human gladiator collapsed,

not an ounce of strength left to him but bending his will to recover as quickly as possible.

Thickening his aura, he wrapped several layers of healing blue energy around himself. He

hoped for a few secondsheartbeats only.

PK bought those for him.

A blur of muscles, wiry hair and fangs jumped over Freakshow as PKs latest portaled

creature slammed into a recovering Goth Garal. He rolled away from the struggle, saw that his

partner in todays Dynamic Duo match had abandoned himself to Pagos razored grip. Black

ichor splashed over the glowing floor. Pago screamed his rasping battlecry, consumed with

bloodlust.

Garal already had his hands around the pit beasts head, crushing its skull. Climbing to

unsteady feet, Freakshow launched himself at Goth Garal, grabbed the demon by his down-

turned horns. He kicked his feet up and around, arching his back to swing behind the demon.

With his momentum and a savage twist, Freakshow wrenched Garals headaround,

snapping the demons upper spine. Goth Garal collapsed against the arena floor.

No time to bask in the audiences savage elation. Freakshow threw himself away from

the demon and stumble-ran toward Pago. The alien pinned PK against the floor, razors slashing

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again, and again. PK took most of the cuts against his arms, but dark blood also flowed from his

sides and gut and bubbled in a froth over his punctured chest.

A discus lay on the floor not far from the struggling pair. The one Freakshow had thrown

earlier. He bent down to grab it on the run, tucked it against his arm and whirled around in a

two-step spin.

Pago sensed the danger, and looked up in time to catch the edge of the disc in the side

of his glowing skullcase.

The cyborged alien stood up under the first blow, but not the second. Freakshow tucked

down, spun, and came up again with the discus smashing up into Pagos chin. Metal-reinforced

chitin cracked, caved. Pago flew up and to the side, fell into a tangled heap. He didnt move

again.

Bloodied, bruised and still operating on the dregs of his strength, Freakshow stumbled

into a wide-legged stance. He grasped his discus in both hands and thrust it overhead in a sign

of victory. Waves of energy crashed into him as the audience screamed themselves hoarse and

poured its devotion through the sensory fields. PK struggled feebly to regain his feet, slipped in

his own blood. Freakshows cheerleaders jumped and waved and blew kisses in his direction.

Some of them smiled through a mask of red dye, dashed over them earlier by Pagos

mega-fan.

Freakshow spotted the cowardly fan skulking toward one of the exits, wrestling off an

artificial skullcase-cap. Turning his back on PK, he stalked forward, jumped, and threw. The

discus took the mega-fan in the back, dropping him into a heap that mirrored his gladiator idol.

The audience loved it. His cheerleaders swarmed to his side, surrounding him in a small

ocean of beauty. David had hand-picked each one himself. Now he chose two. Blue-haired

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Jericho and the very svelte Rhiana. Tight leather and revealing halters. Jericho washed the

blood off his face, then he draped one of them over each arm and paraded along the restraint

fields, basking in the adoration, feeling stronger. He noticed when a pair of Ophidian Keepers

slithered out to help PK from the arena. Other Keepers appeared to collect the bodies of Goth

Garal and Pago, taking them for medical attention and, if necessary, reanimation.

He smiled. It would be necessary.

A few other Justich Federation gladiators walked out of their ready rooms to congratulate

him, no doubt hoping to leech off his success. Some mega-fans who had slipped past guards to

gain the arena floor also crowded in. Mostly humans, but not all. Freakshow had fans among all

races on every world. Soon he was hemmed in by a small crowd, all of them belting out

FreakshowFreakshow

Hello, David.

The voice at his ear was honeyed with amusement and very familiar. He looked back.

Alice! Disengaging from his female accessories, David swept up his stepsister in a violent hug

and spun her around once before setting her back on her feet. It had been nearly a year since

they had last seen each other.

What are you doing on Solop Avagar? he asked, some doubt creeping into his voice as

he looked her over.

Alice Jenks wore a revealing setup that looked more like one of his cheerleaders outfits

than something his stepsister should be wearing. All leather and skin. She stood defiantly, arms

crossed and head cocked to one side. But her smile was firmly in place. I wanted to see you

fight, she said with a dimpling grin.

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Freakshow gathered Rhiana back to his side. The cheerleader melted against him. With

his free hand he waved at the audience, and signed a few high-auction autographs onto clothes,

arms, foreheadswhatever was offered. A few of them might have their skin removed to

preserve the scrawl. Some would end up in the collectible market. All part of the show.

You could have seen that on the sensory nets at home, he admonished Alice as she

stepped forward to cut off a couple of mega-fan groupies. He frowned. He was happy to see

Alice, actually. But not here. She wasnt part of this world, and it was going to seriously cut into

his after-show recreation.

Well, Im traveling at the moment.

You are? Great. He looked for Jericho, found her sulking off to one side. When he

shifted toward her, Alice stepped around to keep his attention. Do you need money? The

accounts should be full. David Dangers supported his stepsister at his personal estates on

Chasse. He should have gone to visit her in the off-season time. Now he was unlikely to visit

until the Ophidian Circuit moved back through Opali and Tigbar on the regular season, still

months away.

She laughed. Actually, Im doing fine. Ive a nice income of my own now.

Doing what? Selling the scandalnets news on your stepbrother? He reached past Alice

to hook a finger into Jerichos studded collar, drew her to him and accepted a deep, hungry kiss.

He chuckled. Thats fine, kid. I dont mind.

This has nothing to do with you, David. Shocking as that might seem. She glanced

around. Id like to talk about this.

Massaging his bruised neck, he pushed more nanite-laced blood to the area to help

speed his healing. Every minute, he felt better. Love to, kid, but Im not going to have time. This

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was my final preseason bout in the Justich System. In three hours Im outbound, heading for

Ursai Major. The Tarn System. And he wasnt going to spend his victory celebration catching

up with Alice, no matter how much hed missed her. There were appearances to make.

So well talk on Ursai Major, then, Alice said with a coy smile. She turned away,

releasing the floodgate of groupies and fans massing behind her.

Whoa! he reached through the sudden swarm, caught her elbow. Youre following the

circuit to Ursai Major? How are you getting there? Physical travel over those distances wasnt

cheap. Alice could spend his fortune more wisely than that.

How are you getting there? she asked with a shrug.

One of the reptilian Ophidians waited nearby, ready to lead him away to the after-match

extravaganza and closing ceremonies for the Solop Avagar matches. Freakshow would be a

centerpiece after todays victory. My way is bought and paid for, he reminded her. Im

competing.

Alice Jenks pulled her arm free, turned into the crowd and forced her way through.

What a coincidence, his stepsister called back over her shoulder.

So am I.

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THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-3-

JINXED

Ursai Major, The Tarn System

This is so unlike you. David hiked himself up onto the edge of a steel table. Alice stood

to one side as an Ophidian Keeper and a trio of Freakshows cheerleaders prepped him for

tonights Head On collision match. Resting on a thick coil, the Keeper prepared a nanite

cocktail, loaded it into the pneumatic injector. The women paraded by with a choice of

accessories.

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I cant understand why you feel this is necessary. Dont I make enough for the both of

us? Enough for her to live like a duchess on his Chasse estates. Enough to make the right

pay-offs to keep Ophidian influence far away from his only remaining family.

Its not about the money. A storm of applause hammered at the ready rooms thin steel

door. Alice dimpled, sharing a private joke with her stepbrother.

Not just about the money, she said.

Its never a sure thing, David told her, as if explaining one of lifes great truths. This

was his second attempt at talking her into going home since arriving on Ursai Major. His head

should have been in the fight about to happen. Especially for a lower-tier gladiator.

Well, Jinx is second-tier and doing quite nicely. She has sponsors now. She still talked

of her gladiator persona like it was a different person. Wake up little girl.

Ask Version 9 how much thats worth. He was an Ophidian champion. Now the cyborgs

sinking so fast in ratings youd swear he had neutronium tied to his servos. And the demon, who

slipped from third rank to first Ah, what was his name?

Pefdsartsuq Klojmrentoyu, Alice said easily, rolling the hard syllables of her tongue as

if they were simple music. She brushed at her razor-mesh skirt, fussing with the weave. P.K.

You were his partner on Solop Avagar. Forgot him already, David? Her tone was teasing, but

with a serious undercurrent.

Not many people talked to him like that. One of Freakshows women stared at Alice,

fascinated. He snapped his fingers and sent her to get his vambrace.

He had to admit, his stepsister had the touch. A perfect mix of childhood innocence,

played up with pig-tails and shy smiles, and hard-core gladiator. Hed looked up her stats, too.

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Sponsored in a run of minor Justich League circuits, the same ones which has so recently been

his primary stomping grounds, her list of wins wasnt half bad.

But this was the Ophidian Circuit. He was just getting used to it himself, but one thing he

knew: The snakes played for keeps at this level.

You have no idea what youre doing.

Jinx shrugged. Ill take my chances. You certainly have.

Freakshow let two cheerleaders remove his suede drawstring pants, helping him into

skin-fit neoleather that stretched where he needed. Strapping on his armored belt and codpiece,

he felt not the least bit uncomfortable with his stepsister in the room. You lost inhibitions quickly

on the circuit, after a few wins and the victory parties.

Was that what bothered him? The idea of Alice being exposed to his world? Hed always

thought of her as a sheltered, spoiled girl. She was growing up fast.

Issstime, the Ophidian hissed at him, slurring the words together. The snake-like

Keeper hunched forward, injector held ready, black eyes staring at him with a predators gaze.

David grunted and thrust an arm outthe one without KEV sub-dermal armor. A brief

sting and the nanite upgrade went to work in his bloodstream. His arm prickled with warmth.

Euphoria floated right behind, quickly stealing over his entire body.

The Keeper wrapped his arm in a hardening brace of steel-strength plaster. The

cheerleaders groomed him, oiling his skin and plaiting his hair.

Well continue this later, he said finally, jumping off the table.

Alice nodded. I cant wait.

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The Keeper slithered ahead, keyed open the door. Calls of Freakshow! rolled into the

room, chased by equally strong chants for LotharLothar Freakshows alien opponent had

a good following in the Tarn System.

David, Alice called, stopping Freakshow at the door. He glanced back. His stepsister

paused, then shrugged. Knock him dead.

***

But it was never so easy. The Ophidians knew how to handicap a match, balancing

augmentations against natural ability. Freakshow wondered when he stomped into the arena,

seeing sparks shoot up from the glowing, brightmetal floor at each step. Cosmetic effects only.

Then Lothar rose up from a chasm split through the floor. Skin like pale milk peaked out

between black leather straps. He held a dagger in each hand, arms crossed over his chest in a

semblance of the sleeping dead. A dark fog rolled around the aliens thin frame, and warning

lights flashed as bio-filter screens dropped over the arena.

Disease. Tendrils of plague reached out for Freakshow, but his supercharged nanites

kept him safe for a time. Charging to one side of the arena, then the other, he sought a

weakness in Lothars defenses. Wondering if Alice watched, he quested out with his aura and

pulled back whenever queasy-yellow tinged his probes.

All too often.

Lothar controlled the arena, hunting Freakshow like a trapped animal, waiting for the

right moment. The alien never dropped his guard. Finally he rushed forward on a wave of

sickening plague, blades flashing, catching Freakshow in the arms, the gut.

KEV armor turned most of the blows. He took another series against his ebony

vambrace.

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Freakshows strength waned as disease overwhelmed his nanite enhancements. Coiling

in on himself, he exploded out with every ounce of force at his command. He caught Lothar with

double palm-heel strikes, throwing the alien across the arena.

He stumbled to one knee. Retching.

Lothar climbed up on unsteady legs.

The audience cheered their sport. Head-on matches rarely lasted so long.

Forced into the role of prey, prodded by the emotional outbursts slamming into him

through the sensory fields, Freakshow snarled his rage. Pacing from side to side, he struck back

only when Lothar cornered him. Poisons worked inside him, sapping his strength, slowing his

responses. Making him look weakinadequatein front of Alice.

Distracted by thoughts of his stepsister, Freakshow missed Lothars charge and the alien

very nearly took him.

Slipping in under a new pestilence, Lothar spiked a brain fever in Freakshow that he

countered by concentrating a healing aura around his head. A knife flashed at his throat, nicked

an artery through the KEV armor. Warm blood splashed on his shoulder. The other knife

stabbed at his eye. Freakshow met it open-palmed, letting the point drive through his hand,

locking his fingers over the tang. He pulled Lothar off-balance as the first knife drove in again.

He met it open-palmed as well.

Wrestling for control of the knives, refusing to let them be pulled from his hands,

Freakshow raised one foot and stomped into the middle of Lothars chest. Bones cracked.

Lothar stumbled, losing his grip, and Freakshow dove after him. His backhand slap put three

inches of dagger blade into Lothars throat.

An overhead strike drove the second blade through one glassy eye.

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Lothar slumped forward, dead on his feet, held up only by the blades run through

Freakshows hands. The fog of pestilence disbursed. Freakshow carefully lowered the alien

down to the floor as the crowd roared. Stepping back, he willed his hands open so he could

remove the daggers.

His muscles trembled, refused.

So be it. Hed have them pulled in his ready room. There would be no answering the

crowds call for his usual parade. No victory party. He had let his mind wander for a moment,

and nearly paid for it at a high cost. Champions did not make that kind of mistake. Ever.

And if he were going to prevent it from happening again, there was only one solution.

Alice Jenks had to go.

25

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-4-

RAW DEAL

Toreador, The Tarn System

The private room was luxuriously appointed, with one entire wall open to Toreadors

Danger Zone arena. Leathery, draco-skin floor covering molded to David Dangers every step.

The fully automated tender boasted a repertoire of fifty thousand beverage mixes. And the

sensory-net controls had no safety limits. Someone could dial the Ophidians broadcast

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emitters to maximum, and a death blow on the arena floor would stop heartbeats or induce

comas up here.

David shut the emitters down first thing. His stepsisters pain was not a feeling he

wished to share.

It was no accident that his meeting was scheduled alongside Alices first Tarn Triple

event. Ophidians had no sense of humor, or irony, but the snakes knew how to bargain. This

was their opening move.

Pacing the restraint field, he watched Little Jinx struggle alongside the plague-alien

Lothar and circuit newcomer Cryst Mamigoyan. Cryst was an unknown, not yet ratedan alien

who looked as if he were made entirely of cloudy glass. The mismatched trio fought against the

returning Goth Garal, who commanded Bulls Eye and that wild-haired runt of an engineer who

styled himself The Berserker.

The Triple pressed back and forth across the Danger Zone with Lothars besieged crew

barely holding. Blasts of flame and metal spikes thrust out of the floor at random intervals,

keeping the audience on the edge of their seats as they waited for a gladiator to misjudge. The

engineer used a pile of spare parts to build a small army of deadly warbots. Surprisingly, it was

JinxAlice!who countered with her ability to rapidly portal in small-but-vicious creatures with

stainless steel teeth and jaws that tore through metal.

She had never shown hints of such ability while growing up. More Ophidian tampering.

As if summoned, the iris-door spiraled open and a Keeper stepped into the room. Not an

Ophidian, with their snake-like bodies and hypnotic stares. This Circuit Keeper was of a

different alien race, with two elbow joints and long, bony fingers. He had four tiny, red eyes and

a horned beak that snicked at the air.

27

Non-Ophidian Keepers werent exactly rare, but David had assumed the secretive

Ophidian Lords would send one of their own for a gladiator of Freakshows caliber. They had

gone through so much trouble to acquire him, and the rest of the Justich League circuit, after

all.

Am Schreth, the Keeper said. His voice was raspy and coarse, like dry scales rubbing

together.

Took you long enough. David took the high ground with an immediate challenge.

Negotiations with the Ophidians shouldnt be too different from battles hed fought in the arena.

Or so he thought then.

The door spun closed behind Schreth. Not fight today. Requestlow priority.

And on days Freakshow fought, he had better things to do than argue for an interview. Which is

why hed waited so long to go through upper channels. Three different worlds in three weeks,

every private effort to undercut his stepsisters new career and send her packing for home had

failed. Now he wanted her gone no matter the cost.

David began to say as much, but a rousing surge of cheers pulled him back to the open

wall. He couldnt help it. His experienced eye caught up quickly. Goth Garal had used mind

control to seize several of Jinxs portaled creatures, turning them against their mistress. Cryst

was less effective establishing a cyberspace link to the warbots, but he subverted enough to

keep The Berserker tied up in a civil war of mechanicals. Cutting discs and lasers sliced through

plate armor. Machines toppled with heavy crashes.

Meanwhile Lothar stood at the fore, brandishing a flaming sword and using his mastery

over disease to keep Alice Jenks from falling prey to her own summoned creatures. She stood

at the edge of his oily wreath of disease, moving through its fringes as if it were the purest air.

Nanotech? Biofilters?

28

A steel-toothed creature leaped at her, and she skipped back further into Lothars

protection, drawing the beast after her. It convulsed and died right atop one of its brethren, and

the crowd cheered her again.

A stand-off. With Bulls Eye as the wild card. David had predicted that early on. A rogue

Spectral obsessed with the material plane, Bulls Eye always took near-human shape. The dark-

garbed figure skulked along the edge of a Danger Zone fire trap, behind Goth Garal. Bulls Eye

liked to play the weakling while building strength.

Waiting for his chance.

Climbs in ratings, Schreth said, stepping up on Davids left. They watched as Little Jinx

bunny-hopped over a fallen warbot, moving out from under Lothars protection. Good numbers

for second tier.

Good numbers, David agreed. He stroked his goatee. Doesnt matter, though. I

want

Know what Freakshow wants, Schreth interrupted, his beak clacking hard. Ophidian

Lords always know.

Alice Jenks tripped over a severed warbot arm, stumbled to one side. A jet of flame

erupted from the arena floor where shed been about to step. The audience gasped and Davids

heart hammered in his throat. Stupid little girl. So show her the door, he ordered.

No.

The response came too fast, like a door slammed in his face. For a second tier? Look,

Schreth, he made the name a gargling noise, they dont need her. Meaning the Ophidian

Lords. They need me. Call it a request from one of their top-earning gladiators.

Freakshow not top-earner, Schreth said.

29

Not a? He couldnt complete the question.

The Keeper made a complicated gesture that might have been a double-joined shrug.

Humans do well, but not draw real money. His voice was lighter, hungrier, saying those last

two words. Part of a special vocabulary the Ophidian Lords forced him to memorize perfectly, no

doubt.

Freakshow threw off his surprise. Maybe not in the Tarn System. But in the Justich

Federation

Better, Schreth agreed, cutting him off again. Still not top-earner. Freakshow fights

too much Singles and Doubles. Never be Champion.

True. The Justich League circuit might be the newest acquisition to the Ophidians

gladiatorial empire, but he knew the score. Ophidian Circuit Champions were crowned out of the

highly-rated four-on-four team events, and he had little interest in them. Freakshow hated to

share the spotlight. But then, he had never noticed it limiting him in status before. Or influence.

It was almost enough to make him think.

It was certainly enough to distract him. He had failed to see Alice trip her way into a

dangerous position.

With Goth Garal moving up to grapple with Lothar, demon claws against flaming sword,

Jinx suddenly found herself trapped between Bulls Eye and The Berserker. David watched as

the spectral rushed up from the backfield with dark apparitions swarming around himspirits

which he had summoned and bound to his own life force.

On her right, the diminutive engineer clambered onto the back of a treaded warbot,

driving it at her

30

and into a sudden forest of long blades that thrust out from the Danger Zone floor.

Sharp-edged steel punched through warbot and engineer, impaling them on mechanical

crucifixes.

The audience went nearly berserk. Several rows rushed down to the arenas edge

humans, aliens, even demonsto hammer their enthusiasm against the restraint fields. They

made as if shed planned the entire scene, when really it was just a healthy dose of grisly luck;

the kind which had earned her the nickname Little Jinx. Alice played it up. With a laugh and a

twirl she spun away from the gruesome scene, sprinting back toward Lothar, unconcerned.

She hadnt seen Bulls Eye!

But Cryst had. The alien moved like flowing water, smooth and fluid as he threw himself

forward into the spectrals path. Crysts eyes flashed cobalt blue as the spirits swarmed over

him, wrapping about him in a cascade of negative life force. Bulls Eye kicked him into a wall of

fire, raced onward.

Alice would never have stood a chance if not for that small delay. And for Lothar. Lothar

swept back from Goth Garals embrace, sending a choking fog of death at the amber-skinned

demon. He cast his flaming sword side-armed, whipping it past Jinx with barely a hands

breadth to spare. The fiery blade caught Bulls Eye in the chest, driving him upwards and back,

and then it dissipated in a flash of orange flame.

Energy bled from Bulls Eyes wound in a wash of silvery light.

The flaming sword reappeared in Lothars hand.

Trading the mad engineer and his warbot minions for Cryst put Goth Garal and Bulls

Eye at a serious disadvantage. Freakshow knew Lothars ability to command an arena. He

knew his stepsister was in safe hands. For today.

31

But tomorrow? What would the Ophidian Lords put her up to when she really became

popular.

If, he began, then waited for Schreths attention. Four beady, red eyes stared through

him. If a top-earning gladiator was making this request? If he asked a favor from an Ophidian

Lord?

The Keeper paused. His fiery eyes dulled, then turned a hard onyx black as he

considered Davids request most carefully. His stare was very much like an Ophidian. Cold.

Hypnotic. It felt as if another presence had entered the room.

Even best-earning gladiatorshardly afford five minutes time to talk with Ophidian

Lord, he finally said. His beak clicked and clacked against an underjaw of hard bone.

Freakshow nodded decisively. Ill take that as a deal, he said.

Still in pre-season. Am unsure how Freakshow accomplishes this.

He smiled a hard smile, copied the aliens pattern of speech. Will become odds-on

favorite to qualify for Championship tour, Freakshow said easily. Then he broke away from the

Keepers obsidian gaze, turning back to the arena to watch Lothar and Little Jinx move in

quickly on the wounded Bulls Eye.

Now he only needed to figure out how.

32

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-5-

DARKNESS FALLS

Varrenhold, The Matricc System

Varrenholds Cyberwarren Arena was a junkyard of crashed starfighters, half-ruined

vehicles, and surplus war material. Holotronic mesh covered four-story walls at either end.

Advertisements competed with live combat, lighting the arena in a garish backwash of neon-

bright colors. No restraint fields protected the audience from the gladiators, or vice versa, and

33

the Ophidian sensory net stood wide open, creating one of the strongest feedback loops

between gladiator and audience Freakshow had ever experienced.

So he felt their cringing expectation as he dodged between a fire-gutted tank and

towering mountain of destroyed war-bots, chased by a fury of ruby-hued laser blasts.

The Berserker had cyber-rigged a laser turret, manning the seat himself until he could

find a way to automate it. One violent beam caught Freakshow just short of cover, glancing

across the small of the back. It slashed through body armor, boiling away skin and flesh, lifted

him from the floor and threw him forward.

He hit hard, scrambled into the tanks shadow. The smell of burning meat choked the air.

The audience shouted and screamed as a psychic lash burned across their spines.

Feeding on the suffering, demon-kind roared their approval. The holotronic displays cut to an

instant replay of the action, his rough and tumble landing, dragging numbed legs behind him as

he edged up to the corner of the tank, glanced around.

Protected by the dwarfish engineer, Prince of Gates held the arenas center

unchallenged. Opening a new portal, the demon reaching deep into inter-dimensional space to

loose another horror on Freakshows stillborn team. Dark laughter echoed across the arena with

a power that rivaled even the tumultuous roar of the audience. It scratched fingernails across

the chalkboard of Freakshows soul.

One of Freakshows new teammates, Leetah Kalynda, ducked around the other side of

the scrap heap. Scars crisscrossed her face, standing out pale and puckered against her

flushed skin. Her swords dripped green ichor and gore. The cyborg construct looked his way,

shook her head. He nodded back. They both recognized the signs of a lost match.

34

Freakshow had seen it most often from the other side, of course, but that didnt change

anything this night. Thrown into the deep end on his first full-team event, he faced last years

Champion. Xarzycus, Prince of Gates. The Berserker was a new addition to Xarzycuss

preseason team, but an effective one, and the demon had recently passed over Goth Garal for

soldier-construct Version Nine. Of Prince of Gates original four only The Stranger remaineda

dark, spectral being of mysterious origin and even more secret ambitions.

This late in the preseason, with most teams readying themselves for the full Circuit,

Freakshow had been forced to scavenge among cast-offs and unknowns. Mannequin, the AI

symbiote, was a true gladiator veteran but difficult to work with. Leetah stood low in the ratings,

and Simon Bantus, the new Fish, was more interested in surviving his one-year sentence to

the Circuit than he was in placing for the Champions tour.

But Freakshow did nothing that he did not try to be one of the best. If not the best. He

would win an endorsement, and get his stepsister out of the Ophidians coils. Then he would go

on to best them at their own sport.

But not today.

The scrap mountain Leetah hid behind trembled as a giant robotic dozer scraped up

more robotic body parts and piled them on. She spun away, slid low across the opening

between them, and joined Freakshow behind the tanks ruined husk.

Fish is down, she said, voice rusty with disuse. The Stranger put him into a mental

seizure. Mannequin?

Freakshow tried to get back to his feet, did so slowly. His nanites released a flood of

endorphins to counter the pain. Commandeered a dozer, went off hunting Version Nine. He

made certain to face her. Born deaf, Leetah had to read his lips. Her single-word curse pretty

much summed up her feelings. His too, for that matter.

35

David stretched, winced. Strengthening his aura, he built a healing shell around his

lower back. Can you get to the engineer? he asked.

Leetah shook her head.

Can you distract him?

There werent many ways to distract a man sitting in a laser turret. She paused,

understanding lighting up her mismatched eyes. I do not come back, she said slowly. I have

standard replacement clause only. No reanimation. Which meant Leetah had sponsor troubles.

Most gladiators opted for the best insurance they could afford, but it took real money buying a

second chance at life.

Youll have to help me get close, then, he said. Freakshow did not care to push a

losing strategy. But when faced with ignominious defeat or going out in a blaze of glory, a top-

tier gladiator only had one choice.

And a top-tier team? Where could he find others to whom winning meant just as much?

Now? Leetah asked, reversing her blades so that she held one down the length of

each forearm.

Now!

His first step, Freakshow worried he was destined to end up face-down on the arena

floor, at the mercy of The Berserkers lasers or one of Prince of Gates portaled creatures. His

legs felt unsteady, still numb from the earlier laser blast. But they strengthened with each step

as he pushed more nanites to the damaged area. Around the tank, racing down the short

corridor between vehicle and robotic scrap pile. Leetah hung back several paces, ready to

deflect any threats.

36

It came before they cleared the scrap pile, scrabbling down the side of the heap. An

eight-legged raknid hit the arena floor, fangs open and front legs bristling with poisoned quills.

Freakshow dodged around the spiderlike creature, leaving it to Leetah Kalynda who fell on it

with flashing swords and a grim smile of determination.

Freakshow ran on alone, charging forward with a sudden surge of audience expectancy

buoying him. Their encouragement built like a wave, rushing up with inexorable strength. As

bloodlust warred with the dawning horror of his suicide charge, that wave rolled over into a

breaking foam of excitement commingled with terror. This was going to be glorious. This was

going to hurt.

This was going to hurt a great deal, in fact.

Standing tall at the center of a wide-open area, Prince of Gates reigned in two slithering,

slug-like beasts as if they were faithful pets. The demon was thickly muscled, with part of his

gladiator costume stitched directly into his corpse-blue skin. His eyes were milky orbs and he

slicked his hair back with what looked like congealed blood. The slug-like creatures mutated

right before the eyes of the audience, held too long in Xarzycuss demonic presence. Already

Freakshow felt the other gladiators dark presence pressing in against his own aura.

Prince of Gates saw him come, of course. As did The Berserker, who opened up with

the laser turret and splashed more ruby-tinged energy across the arena. Freakshow dodged

and leaped, pulling every last trick from the book. One close call splashed a wide, molten

puddle into the arena floor. Freakshow leaped across, hair flying out behind him like a victory

banner. Another passed so close to one arm that his skin blistered. He side-slipped, spun, and

cut back on target.

He might have actually made it, if the demon had granted him some measure of

professional courtesy.

37

Prince of Gates smiled, cruel and dark. In Freakshows mind, the demon stood frozen in

place while the background rushed away in retreat, as if the arena suddenly grew larger around

him. Time poured over them both in a sticky layer. Freakshows next step came slower, driving

him through the warped shell of reality. The next, slower still.

At the edges of his sanity, Freakshow sensed the barriers that separated reality from the

demon dimensions breaking down, thinning. He glimpsed monstrous faces from the shadows

which cavorted in his peripheral vision. Hands clawed at him, dragging him down.

Another step.

Another.

How long had it been since the last laser cannonade? Another jump? Should he dodge

aside? Freakshow pulled his aura tight about him, creating a thin barrier to protect him from this

demonic twisting of reality. It helped. His senses cleared, but there was little time to free his

body from the quagmire the demon had sunk them into. He saw Prince of Gates striding

forward, caught in the same web. He saw The Berserker track on him, a fiery stream pouring

from the laser turret. Freakshow raised his fists, thrusting them forward in an effort to protect his

face. They disappeared in a haze of blood-red light, severed at the wrists, then at the elbows.

Time and dimension snapped back into place with a mind-wrenching thunderclap.

Freakshow leaped, a powerful yell skinning his lips back from strong teeth, still trying to reach

his enemy when the next laser blast took him in the side of the chest.

Darkness took him. He was not sorry to see it come.

38

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-6-

COMMON GROUND

Gasherdel, Garina

Standing in one of the narrow entrance tunnels to Gasherdels Cathedral-Prime arena,

Freakshow scowled equally at the corridors dank smell and at Ryla, the bronze-skinned

demoness who stood slightly apart from the three humans. Just barely muted, the crowds

tumultuous roar of bloodlust and anger seeped past force field screens, echoing along the dark

39

tunnel, clinging to the walls with malevolent tenacity. It prickled the short hairs on the back of his

neck, as if reminding him of something.

Other than the usual promise of death and dismemberment, that is.

Rejuvenation took something out of gladiators. They all knew it, although Freakshow

could not put a mental finger on anything specific. Hed felt cold for weeks after, his flesh blue-

tinged and slightly numb. The chill penetrated right down to his bones. Spending hours every

day in Ophidian training facilities with the temperatures elevated high enough to make a fire-

daemon sweat, he pushed his nanites to bulk up muscle and increase reflexive speed. He

swore off bodily pleasures and purchased a full regimen of anti-mutation agents, suffering

painful joint aches and heavy migraines as he readied himself for the Demon Wars Invitational.

He felt in top physical form. His aura wrapped warmly about himself, pure and gold and

perfect, he knew he had not dropped any weight or suffered a permanent loss of coordination.

No. This time it had been a memory. A thought. Something he had remembered, or realized.

Reaching for it again, he slipped back into the disjointed memories of his run-in with

Prince of Gates. It wasnt his tactics. Hed reviewed the holotronic footage often enough. The

way he had embraced death, causing a ratings spike even in defeat? Not quite.

All that remained was a sense of loss, like a dark hole at the back of his mind.

Something important

But it was gone.

And in its place came searing light, stabbing into the back of his eyes as the corridor lit

up so brightly that his entire team stumbled blindly through their first few steps together.

The Stallion crossed one arm across his eyes, electro-spear held out dangerously before

him, and nearly ran into Ryla. The demoness lashed out with her talons, sent him reeling away

40

with bloody stripes down his cheek. Naru Kami regained his equilibrium much faster. Nothing

put Striking Dragon off his game for long. The elder martial arts master trotted out onto the

arena floor at Freakshows side.

A bright edge of tempered insanity cut at the Human team as they emerged from the

protection of the intense lightpsychic backwash from a sell-out crowd of a quarter million

bloodthirsty fans. Freakshow strengthened his spirit shield, needing a few seconds of clear

thought. There would be no complicated strategies this evening, he saw. A smooth expanse of

pale reddish stone stretched from one side of Cathedral-Prime to the other, littered with drifts of

ivory-yellow bones and oily, gangrenous slicks. A deathmatch arena. Holotronic screens

towered over each corner, and seating wrapped up and over the gothic ceiling with an applied

altered-gravity state. The best seats in the house, looking straight down on the gladiators

through individual magnification fields. Gods Eye, they called it.

Freakshow strode forward, determined to give them something worth seeing.

His shadow stretched ahead for over a dozen meters. He imagined the effect of the

brilliant light on the spectators: Angelic fire flooding one corner of the arena, hiding the mundane

entrance corridor from view. And the other team? Would they arrive in a blast of fire? A chaos of

artificial night and screams?

It was fire. Across the arenas battlefield, a vortex of flame swirled and cavorted around

the arriving demons, hiding them from view.

With hand motions he quickly pushed Striking Dragon out onto his left flank, Ryla on his

near-right where he could best keep an eye on her. Schaeffer Steelarm donned the mask to his

bio-suit. The first-tier Stallion was left to guard Freakshows back (and was also to watch out

for any treachery by Ryla). The Invitational was supposed to pit human teams against demons.

But Ryla petitioned to fight against her own kind, and the Gasherdel promoters saddled

41

Freakshow with her as a novelty. Demons turning on their own was not unknown, though rarely

did they champion the Human side of a very bitter rivalry. Did the Ophidians wish to see what

she would do? Or were they throwing another hurdle into Freakshows path?

He wasnt expected to place well anyway after his showing against Prince of Gates.

Then the veil of fire parted, and seeing whom they had matched his team against,

Freakshow knew a moments despair that they had been right.

Dark Arkzilipul ledthe Devourer of Souls. His ebony skin reflected the fire, making it a

part of himself. Stomping forward on cloven hoofs, lash gripped tightly in the left hand, he

bellowed his own challenge against the screams of hatred which rained down around him. He

whipped his lash overhead, the braid of dark energies cutting the air with a tortured scream and

a sizzling snap! at the end.

Goth Ngaral had found a home as Arkzilipuls lieutenant, and would be on watch for any

of Freakshows usual tactics and tricks. After Garal came a cadaverous demon known only as

Pestilence, with his open, running sores and a dark halo of plague flies, and then the chitin-

armored Kosbargithd, dragging at his side a massive sword half again as long as he was tall.

We are so universally screwed, Schaeffer whispered loudly. Striking Dragon silently

took up a flat-footed stance. He tugged on frost-white wisps of beard, offering no argument.

They watched as Arkzilipul slashed open reality and portalled a Krevloc Screamer into the

arena.

A colony-form of gaping maws, it was a creature straight out of nightmare. The

Screamers first discordant screech raked nails down Davids spine.

It was Ryla who broke the spell. We have an audience, she reminded them with a

sneer. Her amber eyes flashed with pent-up hellfire.

42

They did have an audience. And now Freakshow saw what was being done to them

what Arkzilipul had managed from behind the curtain of fire. Spreading out his aura, he pushed

back the black miasma of mystical energies which the demon had cast around the humans,

dampening their spirits with tainted yang.

Another push and the effect dispersed, wrenched from Arkzilipuls control.

The Devourer bent forward and bellowed his rage.

Ryla was already running forward, holding one arm out to her side. Yellow pus dripped

from her talons, and the spines along her forearm. Joining battle, or joining the other side?

Freakshow reached back and grabbed the electro-spear out of Schaeffers hands,

nodded Striking Dragon toward Goth Garal, and chased after her.

The demons spread out to either side of their dark master. Pestilence slipped up to Kos,

ran a diseased hand along the massive reaver, poisoning it. Goth Garal kicked through a small

pile of splintered bones, reached down and uncovered a Pachan weapon. The crescent ends

glowed with ruby fire as he placed both hands upon the ornate haft. Goth Garal grinned.

None seemed worried about Rylas charge. They ignored her. Seemed to welcome her.

Freakshow levered the electro-spear back, sparks arcing out from its broad head,

crackling in his ear. He had the shot now, he could take it. Rylas back was open and

vulnerable, and better the demon you knew than the demon you didnt. He gave her a handful of

seconds, counted them down, stutter-stepped into a hop that shifted all his weight behind the

impending throw.

Then Arkzilipul gated in a Drosh warrior, throwing the minion into Rylas path. Ryla

swiped at it with her claws, drawing blood, and the poison worked quickly. In a convulsive

shudder the Drosh twisted itself around so hard its spine snapped.

43

First blood had gone to the Human team. It gave Freakshow pause. A heartbeat to

reconsider. Then he threw

And hoped he had chosen right.

The Drosh barely slowed Ryla, but apparently her target had never been the Devourer of

Souls. She veered away from Arkzilipul in a determined cut, rushing into the ready embrace of

Kosbargithd and Pestilence. Koss reaver glanced off her arm spines, then he fell back under a

flurry of savage attacks that clawed at his eyes, his throat.

Pestilence hesitated, then swarmed his plague flies forward to envelop Ryla in a

diseased embrace.

and Freakshows spear came crashing down with a thunderclap of bright power,

skewering the Krevloc Screamer. The Screamer died with a choking rasp, teeth gnashing as the

colony-form slumped down against the shaft of the electro-spear.

The method in Rylas madness showed itself as the demoness burst from Pestilences

dark shroud of flies, driving back both of Arkzilipuls lower-tier warriors, separating the demon

line. With Striking Dragon and Stallion racing into the blistering fire Goth Garal laid about with

the Pachan, it left Freakshow head to head with the demon leader.

It also left Rylas back completely open to the Devourer, and Arkzilipul was not one to be

ignored. He struck his lash against the red stone floor, scarring a black wound. Drawing back

the braid of dark energies, it wound behind him like something alive and sinuous, then he struck

forward with the speed of a viper.

To be brought up short by Freakshow, who leaped into the space without a thought for

his own safety. Ryla was giving her all. There was no way he would not do the same. Willing to

risk everything for the team, for victory. Thats what a top-tier team did. He remembered!

44

And then the lash bit into his skin, wrapping about him, and all he could think about was

the pain.

45

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-7-

PROPOSITIONED

Gasherdel, Garina

A dark braid of energies coiled about David Dangerss midsection. His skin blistered

beneath the lash, crisped and splitting open. He tasted blood in his mouth, and bit down on a

scream as pain blurred his vision.

46

Where Goth Garal held off Stallion and Striking Dragon, David was aware only of the

bright, jeweled blasts that continued to pour from the Pachan ray gun. On his right, Ryla was a

vague outline of bronze skin and dark braids, tearing into Pestilence and Kosbargithd without

thought or care of what happened behind her.

Ahead, a mystic vortex of malign hatred opened. Freakshow felt it tear at his soul, pulling

him forward into the dark core of Arkzilipul. As if the demon himself was a portal, and

Freakshow could see through into a darker place where hungry, red eyes stared out of the

depths, never blinking. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, slowing.

Whispers teased at the edge of his hearing. Listen they seemed to be saying.

Hear the crowds

Freakshow could hear the crowds. Cathedral Prime had already seen several matches

in the Demon Wars Invitational, and would see several more before the evenings entertainment

was done. But the Ophidian Lords did not believe in a fickle audience. The savage call of the

crowd echoed Arkzilipuls bellow as the demon fed on Freakshows torment and the throng of

spectators reeled under the sensory nets mixture of demon pleasure and human agony. Their

rage and their hunger blasted back into the arena with a psychic backlash that slashed through

the gladiators.

Feeding on that energy, Freakshow hauled back against the pull of Arkzilipuls lash. He

raised one hand overhead, concentrating his willpower until his aura shone through dark and

golden, and then slashed down and through the braided energies. They shattered into a

hundred arcing threads, squirming off in different directions, finally disappearing as Arkzilipul

leaped forward with hands grasping and teeth barred. An odor of smoke and sulfur came with

the demon.

47

He comes

The Devourer of Souls raked his talons across Freakshows chest, tearing through flesh

and digging at the KEV armor weave. Blood splattered against the demons ebony skin, and

sizzling with the smell of cooking meat.

Now, the otherworld whispers told him. Freakshow did not need to see the opening. He

had felt Arkzilipuls overreaching attack, and sensed that the demons pleasure in the bloodflow

would slow him, if only for a second.

He braced both wrists together and struck outward in a piston-like blow that ruptured

skin and threw the demon back into one of the oily pools that slicked the reddish stone floor.

Arkzilipul thrashed out of the far side of the gangrenous slick, poison burning at the edge

of his wounds. His howl of fury was also laced with something new. Pain of his own.

The banshee wail threw Goth Garal and Kos into violent rages, the demons striking

forward with ray gun and with poisoned sword, heedless of their own safety. Stallion fell, a large

hole burned into his side. Striking Dragon retreated from Goth Garals savage assault. Only

Pestilence seemed immune to the call. But not Ryla. Freakshow felt a churning within his aura

as questing force pulled him around toward possible new danger. He saw the bronze-skinned

demoness turn away from Pestilence, as if yanked around by an invisible chain. Her amber

eyes burned with crimson fury, staring through Freakshow as if he did not exist.

Or would not, in a matter of moments.

Had he been wrong, earlier? In an attempt to understand and douse her sudden fury,

Freakshow retreated from Arkzilipul while reaching out toward Ryla with his aura. Dark blue

pulses smothered Ryla, breaking over her black presence like waves against coral-tipped rock.

48

He felt her conflicted struggle, called to the Devourers side and yet hating everything the

demon represented. It froze her in place, while Pestilence and Kos moved up behind her.

Kos levered up his reaver, and thrust forward in a brutal stab for Rylas back.

Freakshow felt more than saw the swirl of mystic energies which exploded out of Ryla

and swirled over her in a sudden protective shell. The sword glanced away as if swatted by an

invisible hand. Then the mystic energy took corporal form, rising above Ryla in the spectral

image of a large human or possibly a humanoid alien. It had presence. Freakshow felt it as he

might a possessing spirit.

He moved quickly toward Ryla, unsure if she required (or wanted) his help, or if this

might be his only chance to destroy a traitorous teammate.

Pestilence also leaped forward, plague flies swarming around him and Ryla. The ghostly

image swatted them away, and Ryla spun back around with claws raking side to side, tearing

out Pestilences throat. Dark ichor gushed out in great fountains as the body instantly voided

itself of all life, and little more than a flesh-shrouded sack of bones was left to collapse into

another of the arenas gangrenous slicks.

Kosbargithd might be the lesser threat on Arkzilipuls demonic team, but he was no

coward. His massive sword arced up and over, getting behind it all the hatred and jealousy he

could muster. Freakshow saw the dark emotions build on the edge of the blade, gleaming in a

savage mixture of red and bilious green. The sword cleaved through the apparition which hung

above Ryla, and then sliced deep into her shoulder, knocking her to her knees, and then to her

side.

He comes

49

The whispers again. Freakshow had no time to decide if these were true spirits, drawn to

his side against the demons, or if they might simply be the psychic impressions left by gladiators

who had fallen in Gasherdels Cathedral Prime. Either way, a glance over his shoulder

confirmed the truth. Arkzilipul was on the move again, striding forward, his cloven hooves

striking sparks from the arenas stone floor. Reaching into small portals as he came, he dragged

along with him a pair of small, senet worpalite. Heavily muscled with savage claws that might

rend a man in two, in the demons grip the worpalite looked like obedient pets.

Time slipped away from the human team. Arkzilipul might overwhelm them with minions

if not with his actual gladiators. But Kos had drawn back his sword for another overhead blow,

and as Freakshow jumped over Rylas sprawled body all he could think about was protecting his

teammate.

His flying kick caught Kos in the side of the head, snapping it over with enough force to

kill an average human. It barely slowed the wiry demon.

Freakshow came down into a shoulder roll, then vaulted back to lock grips with Kos on

the hilt of the reaver. The blade struggled overhead, ready to fall one way or the other.

Ryla stirred, struggled to her feet in time to rush into the embrace of one of the senet.

Rather than duck under its toothsome maw she thrust a hand forward and deep into its throat. A

new poison, secreted from beneath her talons, choked the reptilian monster. The flesh of its

throat melted as if under a powerful corrosive.

The stench of smoke and sulfur swept ahead of Arkzilipul, warning of the demons

presence even before Freakshows aura churned with dangerous, dark boils. Kos wrestled

David around so that his back was to the Devourer. He spared one last glance behind him, as

the dark-skinned nightmare threw his second garchek at Ryla and came at him with lips skinned

back in a savage snarl and black tongue lolling out as if tasting the air for blood.

50

Power induces will the whispers promised as the crowd surged to its feet, hammering

against the restraint fields in warning or celebration.

It did at that.

Burning his aura into a surge of raw strength, Freakshow flushed every muscle in his

body with a sudden, invigorating pulse. He fell backward, pulling Kosbargithd after him, and

down. The reaver still between them, Freakshow braced it between their bodies as Arkzilipul

impaled himself on the massive blade.

Demon-plagued steel ripped through dark flesh.

Corrosive ichor sprayed out of Akzilipuls mouth in jet of vomit, burning over Koss back.

Already at the edge of his limits, Freakshow pushed for an adrenaline surge and rolled

out from beneath Kosbargithd as the Devourer of Souls collapsed over the top of them. He

ended up on hands and knees within the nearby bacteria pool, barely able to move after

spending so heavily from his reserves. The skin on his hands and forearms had blistered with

reddish welts by the time he waded free.

The battle was all but over.

Delayed by the second worpalite, as the Devourer of Souls had no doubt planned, Ryla

freed herself from the beast and staggered over to lend Freakshow a taloned hand. But

Arkzilipul rolled away from Kos, tore a portal open and lurched through rather than face further

ignominy at the hands of the human team.

Kos screeched his anguish over the betrayal, but wisely gestured for his complete

capitulation. Goth Garal grounded his Pachan weapon a moment later, seeing that the fight had

irrevocably gone against them.

51

Striking Dragon accepted Garals surrender, then moved to the Stallions aide, to see if

there was anything to be done.

Took you long enough, Ryla sneered to David. She folded her arms across her chest,

forearm spines laying against the hard swell of her breasts.

Didnt think you knew who was on your team.

I didnt, Freakshow admitted. He had to say it again, louder, to be heard over the

deafening cheers. But I think Im figuring it out. If you are interested in staying on.

Was that a hint of smile curling up one side of Rylas mouth? That depends on where

you are going.

David Dangers smiled back. To the Championships, eventually, he promised.

Rylas nod told him it was the right answer.

52

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-8-

PURGATORY

Meagred, Prelum Bracius

Walking into Purgatory with Queen Alexandra on his arm, Ryla and Naru Kami following,

created an instant stir the kind at which Freakshow excelled.

Hundreds of gladiators with their hangers-on, their managers, and a host of Ophidian

Keepers thronged through the mighty Warriors Hell on Meagred, one of the few places where

53

circuit warriors gathered in camaraderie. Or, at least, a semblance of neutrality. A blue haze

shrouded the room smelling of illegal smoke and demon sulfur. Balls of copperish fire hung

suspended in the air, chasing shadows across the cinder-strewn floor and into holotronic murals

which hid the walls and camouflaged entrances to private alcoves. Placed strategically around

the hall, giant pillars carved to resemble the snake-like Ophidians held up a massive slab of

quaranite, the heaviest natural rock known to exist. Its red and gray mottle appeared like a

burning sky. Usually, lesser gladiators and most of the uninitiated could not help glancing

upwards, feeling that massive weight suspended above them.

But now all eyes fixed on David Dangers and his coterie. Stunned applause rippled

through the immediate area. A few cheers mixed with good-natured catcalls, drowning out the

few who dared to scoff or offer jeering insults. Five victories in five pre-season tournaments

Freakshows warriors had rocketed upwards in standing, forcing others to pay attention to them.

Showing up with Alexandra as an escort, whos champion-quality team they had defeated only

an hour earlier, was the stuff of legend among gladiators, especially as Alexandra was one of

those rare spectrals who chose a human form in which to exist. A form which inspired many

erotic visions. Raven hair and perfect, alabaster skin. Sultry eyes gazing upon her peers, her

lesser, and the hint of a cruel smile playing at the edge of red, red lips.

Freakshow released Alexandras arm long enough for a flourishing bow. His newest

tattoos danced on the crests of rippling muscles. Alexandra was less inclined to showmanship.

The self-avowed queen nodded once, regally, barely deigning to acknowledge the attention.

One would think you enjoy this, Ryla said, her throaty whisper raising hairs on the back

of Davids neck.

I do, he answered. He picked up Alexandras hand, tucked it into the crook of his

elbow. Alexandra gave him a warm, reassuring squeeze as they began a slow circuit along the

54

curved outside wall. We all should. Why else consign ourselves to Purgatory voluntarily? A

place of torment, and waiting for their sins to be expunged. The gathering hall was aptly named.

The demoness did not see the humor. For some of us, she reminded him, it is not

voluntary. She dropped back behind Striking Dragon, giving him no chance to respond.

No matter. He knew it was true enough. Some gladiators were sold into contracts with

the Ophidians to pay off debts, or crimes. Some had their own demons to chase. A few, like

Ryla, had been compelled to battle. Word was that, early in preseason, Prince of Gates had

portalled Ryla in from Daemonhelm to help him defeat Kaleem, thought to be a demi-god in the

Matricc System. Ryla vanquished Kaleem, but some part of the mystic had possessed her

before death.

Which might explain quite a bit, actually.

Alexandra halted the small group just short of a three-dimensional mural in which she

danced through a struggle of burning demons and shadow-cloaked spectrals. Pulling him a

pace aside, into the mural, Freakshow saw the dark entrance of a private alcove hiding back

inside the holotronic display.

Thank you, David, she whispered in his ear. Are you certain you do not want to join

me?

He glanced back into the hall. Naru Kami waited stoically. Ryla folded arms over her

chest, the picture of impatience. Tough call. Being entertained by Queen Alexandra would

have been another jaunty feather in his cap. What made up his mind, though, was seeing his

stepsister walk by in the shadow of an Ophidian.

These days, outside of a broadcast arena match, he rarely saw her in any other

company. Always with the snakes. Always under their influence.

55

We have business to attend to, Freakshow said with great reluctance.

Pity. She nibbled his ear, then retreated into her private room with one hand trailing

back as if ready to catch him, draw him after.

Freakshow stepped back from the mural, losing sight of the darkened alcove and

returning to the raw, acrid taste of the open hall. Well, I was enjoying myself, he said, leading

them into the thick of the nearby crowd. Not anymore.

Ryla shrugged. Pity, she said, heavy on the sarcasm as she unconsciously echoed

Alexandras parting comment. We have to pick up a new first-tier gladiator, and we need to do

it soon.

Not only that, but they needed one with decent standing to prevent slipping backwards in

team ratings, keeping them in striking distance of the leaders. After todays match Freakshow

had had to let go Simon Bantus, who admitted he was more interested in surviving his one-year

contract than he was stepping into harms way to grab for the Championship circuit. With

Yashrads Open Invitational the last major event left in preseason, they needed a spectacular

finish.

Fortunately, Purgatory was also a place to feel out potential recruits, trying to find the

true warriors among the hopeful and hopeless. Freakshow had a feeling about one of them, if

he was here

He was. Ryla spotted him first as he skirted around the diamelle-cut platform raised in

the exact center of the circular hall. The dais, where the reigning Champion was put on display

for all to worship, or target.

56

Pefdsartsuq Klojmrentoyu, Freakshow stumbled over the difficult, demon name. He

reached out as if to grab the wiry demon by the shoulder, turn him around. PK crouched out

from beneath his touch, spinning down into a ready stance, arms wide.

Naru Kami shifted into a flat-footed power stance in response. Ryla never moved,

though her eyes flashed a warning crimson.

Easy, Freakshow said, calming them all. His eyes narrowed, staring holes into PKs

shoulder. The demon had new tats of his own. A chaotic riot of blues and gold tangled over his

shoulders, decorating his grayish skin. Hey, nice work, he said.

The tattoos shifted, spreading forward over the demons arms as if something alive.

Something new! PK rose only a few inches back toward his normally impressive height. Looks

you for me? the wiry demon asked, wary.

Yeah. David stumbled to a halt, unsure how best to proceed. Demons could be touchy

about the simplest of things. He decided to start with a compliment. You know, I dont think I

ever got the chance to thank you. You saved the win on Solop Avagar. The Dynamic Duo

match-up.

Chances had, PK said. His wide, feral eyes slanted down into a frown. Decides you to

takes bows alone.

Alice had implied much the same to him on Ursai Major, hadnt she? So caught up in his

own image back then, he had overlooked real talent. Yeah, I did. Look, he clapped his hands

together, rubbing them for a bit of warmth, then pushed more nanite-laced blood into his arms, I

wasnt a real team player. But Im making a run for the Championships, and intend to go into the

regular season as the odds-on favorite. Id like your help. Again.

So he can betray you, a deep, rasping voice said from behind David, again.

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David shivered as a slice of cold, blue hatred slashed across his awareness, and his

skin puckered involuntarily. Naru Kami and Ryla shifted around at once, taking defensive

stances. The demonesss eyes burned dark and hot, David saw. He did not need to turn around

to know that Prince of Gates stood behind him.

Much too close behind him.

58

THE TRAGIC RISE OF DAVID DANGERS

-9-

HARD CHANCES

Meagred, Prelum Bracius

I never betrayed you, PK. David Dangers winced. Though I certainly took you for

granted.

Standing between Ryla and Striking Dragon, David forced himself to keep his gaze

locked with Pefdsartsuq Klojmrentoyu, PK, and not break away to challenge Xarzycus. Aware

59

of the demons looming presence, he felt the dark charisma pressing against his aura like a

cancer growing on healthy, living flesh. Close enough to touch if he were to reach back. Close

enough that Prince of Gates could rip out his spine and beat him with it before he so much as

flinched.

Only the recognized neutrality of Purgatory, Meagreds Warriors Hell, likely held

Xarzycus back. As reigning Champion, the demon master enjoyed many benefits of Ophidian

stewardship. He would loathe to jeopardize them here and now, for no real gain.

Demons were, for the most part, extremely selfish.

But PK was a demon too. Says you to come fight, the wiry demon said, hunkering

down into a deeper crouch. Readying himself, or pulling away from Prince of Gates? Sees I no

reasons to helps you.

Then you may join me, Klojmrentoyu. The hard syllables rolled out of Xarzycus

naturally. Almost seductive.

Sees I no reasons to helps you either, PK said in a savage hiss. David felt Xarzycuss

rage. A searing heat spread across the back of his neck as his skin blistered up with crisping,

black pustules. More formed on the backs of his hands. One burst, and a slender tentacle slid

out to form a sixth, searching finger.

Freakshow tensed, gathering his strength for a spinning assault that would launch him

into the teeth of his enemy. He felt the Princes mutation powers picking scabs at his aura, trying

to find a better grip. He burned energy to strengthen his mystic shields, and pushed nanites to

his neck, his hands, to counter the damage already done.

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Rein back, Ryla ordered Prince of Gates, her former master. Her talons dripped a

brackish green poison which puddled on the floor at her feet one drop at a time. The acrid scent

of corrosion lifted from the small pool.

Silence had descended on the immediate area as conversations fell off and all eyes

turned to the budding confrontation. A crowd began to gather, made up of gladiators several

rows deep as cheerleaders and agents were quickly shoved toward the back of a thick pack.

Freakshow lifted onto the balls of his feet. Next to him, Striking Dragon noticed the nearly-

imperceptible shift and nodded, ready.

But then Xarzycus dark presence retreated. Physically, Freakshow could tell that Prince

of Gates moved not one hairs breadth. He pulled inward instead, as if the demon had somehow

diminished himself.

Feeling a touch stronger with Ryla and Naru Kami backing his play, Freakshow shifted

his stance just enough to bring Prince of Gates into his peripheral vision. Polished, corpse-blue

skin stretched back tightly from the demons bony ridges. His milky-white orbs glared at Ryla,

not Freakshow.

Still a slave to Kaleem? Xarzycus asked. You could be so much more.

Ryla bared her teeth and hissed at her former master. But she held herself in check. A

good thing, as Freakshow noticed The Stranger slip up into the shadow of one of the nearby

great pillars. A serpentine tongue licked out from the darkness contained inside his cowl.

He had to guess that another of Xarzycuss minions or mates had already found a place

in Naru Kamis blind spot as well. Fortunately, several Ophidians had slithered forward through

the wall of warriors, their obsidian eyes watchful and dangerous.

61

Prince of Gates dismissed them all with a slow blink, turning back to PK. You have been

more, a raspy voice reminded the wiry demon, and less. I can offer you a chance at him.

Together, we might destroy Arkzilipul. It is what you want.

This was not an arena in which Freakshow felt comfortable. It was the kind of fight in

which he had never before competed. As he was learning, there were levels of understanding

behind and between every gladiator on the Ophidian circuit. Champions had to master those

levels, both inside and outside of the arenas, and he was late getting into the game.

But Xarzycus was interfering with his team composition. Which meant the demon might

actually be worried, watching Freakshow climb in standings. So this was a preliminary skirmish

to the coming battle. No more, no less.

And one which Freakshow intended to win.

I wont make promises I cant keep, he told the wary demon who crouched nearby, but

if I can help you with whatever your goals, I will. He swallowed dryly, coaxing some

reassurance into his voice. I didnt betray you, he repeated. But you know that Xarzycus will.

A glance toward Ryla. He betrays all, in the end.

Certainty of betrayal allows you to make plans against the day, Prince of Gates offered.

I make no promises that he can keep. Xarzycuss tone was mocking, and dark. His grin was

feral. Hungry. Humans, he said with loathing. They are so unpredictable.

Yes, PK whispered, unpredictables they are. Knows you they might win. He side-

shuffled away, toward Freakshows side. He stood up to nearly his full height. Knows you

better, we might win.

62

More Ophidian Keepers swarmed forward now. Jinx and Bulls Eye led a small group of

gladiators along with them, all with direct Ophidian sponsorship or other close ties to the

snakes.

Too late, as Xarzycus suddenly manifested his arena-level strength. Boils erupted on

the exposed skin of the humans standing nearest the demon, Freakshow included. Exhaling a

jaundice-yellow vapor, Prince of Gates stepped forward to backhand the lithe PK hard enough

to send him flying backward into a phalanx of alien gladiators.

Charging his muscles with a surge of adrenaline, Freakshow reacted with lightning-fast

blows to Xarzycuss legs, then to the side of the head as the demon prince stumbled. He spun

around b