Jerrell had thought long and hard about the reinforced glass that separated him from freedom. The floor drain was now filed down to a cutting edge and ready for action, but the more he had considered it, the more he felt that using his new weapon against the barrier was the wrong play.
If he tried to break through the window, the Gladiator would know what he had done. He would be exposing his hand. Jerrell concluded that the better strategy was to keep his ace in the hole. So he had slipped the drain cover back in place, testing to make sure he could easily pull it free.
He didn’t have to wait long.
A dim blue light stung his eyes for a second as his vision adjusted. He went to the window and this time, instead of the skull face, he saw the next chamber. The space beyond was perhaps ten by ten, but a similar design to his current prison. The difference was that a chair occupied the center of the room. A life-like straw-and-burlap dummy dressed in Jerrell’s clothes had been propped up cross-legged atop the chair. In front of the faux person, sitting at attention inside two circles painted on the floor, were the two biggest Rottweilers he had ever seen.
Bathed in the blue light, the massive dogs were like statues of ice, except for the occasional turning of a head or licking of the lips.
“Do you like dogs, Agent Fuller?” the voice said over the speaker in the wall. He saw now that his host stood on the opposite side of the chamber, behind another steel door and security window.
“I have an acquaintance who trains this particular breed to be the most loyal killers money can buy. He calls them ‘hellhounds.’ Would you like to see what they can do?”
His thoughts on the drain in the floor, Jerrell said nothing.
The blue light in the next room turned to red and a high-pitched hum reverberated through the chamber.
The two hellhounds flew into action, working together to tear the dummy apart. The dogs crushed what could have been bone between their massive jaws and whipped their heads from side to side. Instead of focusing on what would’ve been the soft parts of a human body first, the hellhounds directed their attacks only on the throat, head, arms, and legs. They tore those extremities away from the dummy, but left the torso intact. Jerrell imagined them tearing into his own flesh in the same way, their muscular snouts and razor teeth gnawing pieces off him. He wondered if this explained why the limbs of the former victims had been removed.
The Gladiator said, “My best friend was a man who went by the name of Judas. He helped me design these proving grounds. You passed the first test by pulling the drain cover free and refusing to die. You may retrieve your weapon now and ready yourself for the next test.”
On the Gladiator’s last words, the door clicked and slowly swung free. Jerrell looked around the edge of the door at the two hellhounds. The dogs had returned to their circles painted on the floor and again stood at attention. The light in the chamber had changed back to blue.
Straw was everywhere, some small pieces still lazily floating to the floor.
Jerrell bent down, retrieved the sharpened metal cover, and tried not to consider that his blood and flesh could soon be spread across the concrete chamber just as easily as that straw.