Pinky finger. Ring finger. Middle finger. Index finger. One by one, the youth used the thumb of his left hand to tap each in turn. His time here had almost driven him to madness. In that despair, he had sought refuge by re-connecting with the religion of his mother. He didn’t have a rosary, so he counted on his fingers to try and keep count of the prayers. He dared not speak aloud, or else draw the rebuke of his captors, so he kept his head bowed as though in defeat. His lips parted, moving in time to the silent offerings that he made. Maybe God didn’t exist. Maybe no one was listening. For some reason, repeating the words gave him comfort in spite of the doubts. That solace was the last shred of humanity that seemed left him. They cut into body, tormented his dreams, and made a spectacle of him like a caged animal at the circus. That’s exactly what his life had been reduced to. An animal in a cage. After the strange looking creature arrived, the room lapsed back into silence. Toro had mouthed the words to one [i]Padre Nuestro[/i] and had been starting on his third [i]Ave Maria[/i] when they were interrupted by the arrival of more prisoners. At first, the boy had thought it was just more guards, then he’d caught sight of a pair of legs that were dressed in the same white prison cloth. Faun brown eyes peered up, the child craning his head just enough to catch sight of a man. Even though he was dressed as another prisoner, he had a commanding presence. The next was another man, this one looking far more haggard and wearied than the first. The last was a girl. Or, a woman anyway. [b][i]“Welcome, gladiators!”[/i][/b] [i][color=#f1c232]Oh, great. [b]Him[/b] again…[/color][/i] The boy’s eyes returned to the floor. As he listened, he found himself staring down at the palm of his left hand. Where had he left off..? The thumb touched against his fingers, counting off each in his head, before landing on his pinky finger. His mouth opened, the lips forming the words that dared not escape. [i][color=#f1c232]Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres…[/color][/i] “For this event, you will be pitted against one another in a winner-take-all extravaganza." Toro’s mouth hung open. The prayer seemed forgotten. In that instant, everything seemed to stop. It was as if the boy was frozen in place, ice creeping through his lungs, a sensation like something crushing his chest and preventing him from so much as breathing. "Failure to participate will result in immediate termination. Mojo would prefer each of you to succumb to one another but do not be mistaken, should you refuse to compete against your fellows you will be destroyed excruciatingly and spectacularly.” [b]Cock fighting[/b]. They were just animals in a cage. Taken out and made to perform before audiences. At first, Toro had related to it as being a show in a circus. But that wasn’t true. This wasn’t a circus, it was a cock fight. And they were the cocks. And people watched cock fights so that they could see one chicken kill another. The boy lurched. Maybe he was going to sob. It felt like he was going to throw up. Clenching his jaw, he ground his teeth and felt confusion grip him as a rush on conflicting emotions seemed to run through him at once. His left hand closed into a fist. He knew that his fire could hurt people. His fire [i]had[/i] hurt people. He didn’t want that. He’d [b]never[/b] wanted that. So... what, then? Would he refuse to play their game? Except, he didn’t want to die... He looked down at the trembling fist. What would Jesus do? The boy swallowed at the thought. The question answered itself. He knew what the answer was, but... could he ever have that much faith? Swallowing anxiously, the boy looked up again as one of the walls parted to reveal an open chamber on the other side. His eyes immediately found the familiar circus outfit. It was like a leotard, except that it had full leggings. It wasn’t as flashy or colorful as the other circus outfits. Theirs were made with sequins. Toro’s was made of an asbestos blend. He recognized the changing room from his gladiatorial match from a few days before, but there hadn’t been other people with him then. Hesitating a moment, the boy was a moment late in realizing what was meant to happen. They were all changing? Here? [i]Together?[/i] Even as he picked up the familiar circus outfit, the boy looked to his left and right to confirm that, yes, in fact, people were changing here. The initial reluctance was stifled by the chafing of the collar against his shoulders. He gave a heavy sigh, shifting so that his back was toward the woman. A faint blush of embarrassment still colored his face. As he started to disrobe, he realized that by putting his back toward the girl, that he was now facing the white creature. That fact briefly caused him to pause a moment. He’d assume it was a [b]person[/b] of some kind, but it wasn’t human. Another sigh, the blush intensified as Toro went ahead and finished disrobing. Stark naked, the boy placed the leotard on the floor before he stepped into it, one leg at a time. Crouching down, he pulled and shimmied the leggings up to his knees, before standing. Then, pulling the garment up, got it up to his waist. Looped his arms into the straps, he pulled it up the rest of the way with a shrug, before adjusting the front. He squirmed a bit, pulled at the crotch and the back as he stretched his legs and tried to settled into the garment. It was embarrassing how it showed his body off. Toro had grown up in the circus, training day after day to perform the gymnastics that formed part of his Fire-Eating Kid act, and his body displayed an athlete’s definition. But he was still an adolescent and the embarrassment was plain on his face. When he’d finished, he looked down at his left hand. If he went out there, he was going to die. The boy’s eyes moved looked the white creature up and down. It was alien. Just alien. He turned his eyes right and caught a glimpse of some kind of armor. If he fought, he was going to die. If he didn’t fight, he was going to die. No matter what he did, he was going to die. [i]He didn’t want to die[/i]. So what was he going to do..? Toro had stumbled and slipped down on a knee before the sound of the explosion had registered in his mind. Amid the confusion, he felt a familiar [b]heat[/b] suddenly blossom from within him. As though the leash that had been holding back his fire had suddenly snapped. [sub][color=#f1c232]“oh no.”[/color][/sub] All of Toro’s conflicted emotions came to life in that moment, an explosion of fire that swallowed the boy whole before blooming into a column of flame that mushroomed out along the ceiling. Drawing in a sharp breath, the child seemed to pull back the flames. The column of fire dissipated, though patches of flames still appeared to burn along the boy’s arms and legs. [i][color=#f1c232]Got it under control. Keep it under control…[/color][/i] "Run!" The boy’s fiery eyes lit up as he raised his head. The white creature bolted. Toro hesitated for just a moment, then broke into a sprint behind the alien being.