Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
There's something new in her scent lately, too, something musky and rich that makes my cock even harder. I'm afraid to ask. It's not a fear-scent, but I'm not entirely sure what it is. I don't know enough about humans and Mina's impossible to read. All I know is that the moment I smell it, my cock hardens so intensely that I drip with pre-cum. Mina is clearly uninterested, however, so I keep these reactions hidden. I don't want her uncomfortable, not when she's the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Having Mina at my side makes things…bearable.
I don't mind the endless, brutal fights or the fact that the other gladiators and trainers are doing their best to harm me. I don't mind the continuous endurance training. I don't mind that I now get scheduled “boosters” shot into my veins every day for optimal performance. None of that matters because Mina watches me fight all day, every day. She retrieves my food and gently bathes me at the end of the evening, talking softly. Then, my favorite time of day happens—the lights go out and we're alone together.
As alone as we can be considering we're both prisoners, I suppose.
But it feels like the world comes down to just the two of us when the lights go out. Even though I'm sweaty, Mina lets me put my head in her lap and she combs through my mane with her delicate fingers, and we talk. She tells me stories of her world and…well, I listen. I don't have stories to share. I know training moves. I know how to crush a windpipe for fourteen different species of alien. I know the rules for every type of sanctioned gladiator fight, and some for unsanctioned ones. I know all kinds of useful gladiator and arena information, and nothing about myself.
"Maybe they wiped your memories before you came here," Mina suggests when I mention my frustration to her. "To make you easier to train. So you wouldn't know what you left behind."
She might be right. All I know is that there are massive, unexplainable holes in my memory, and I'm determined to fill them all up with thoughts of Mina.
I like Mina's stories best anyhow. When she's not telling me about her life back on Earth as a child-wrangler (a “teacher” she calls it, though it does not sound like much teaching), she tells me stories that are from books, or fairy tales. Humans are full of all kinds of stories, and her favorites are the romantic ones.
"Where does your name come from?" she asks one night, her fingers in my hair in the way I love. I'd never ask her to touch me—it has to be her idea—but when she does, my world stops. I love this time of day the best, when she reaches for me and lightly brushes my hair and makes me feel good.
"I don't know," I tell her, drowsy. "When I woke up, they told me I was Crulden."
"When you woke up?"
I nod slightly, not wanting to interrupt her ministrations. "They did something to my memories, I think. Erased them. They woke me up and said my name was Crulden and I was to fight for them. I…did not like that idea."
She chuckles. "No, I can't say I'd be thrilled either." Her fingers brush over my ear and my tail flicks in response at how pleasant that small caress is. "You want to know the story of my name?"
"Yes." I want to hear all her stories, even the smallest ones.
"It's a little silly." Mina smiles, lost in thought. "So in the early nineties, my mom was a goth girl. Back then it was popular to be edgy and wear lots of black lipstick and eyeliner, black clothing, and to talk about how much the world sucked. It was a look, I guess. She and my dad were both into it, back when they were married. And my mom's favorite movie of all time was Bram Stoker's Dracula. It was a movie—that's like a vid but about a story instead of the news—that was super over the top. Vampires in red armor, damsels in distress, super cheesy. Very edge lord. It's based off of a book called Dracula. I don't suppose you know what a vampire is?"
"No." I'm still stuck on “edge lord.” Or goth girl. Or all of it, really. But her tone is fond and sweet, and I just want her to keep talking.
"They're monsters, basically."
That perks my interest. Monsters are my people. "Oh?"
"Yep. They've got big fangs and cold skin and they drink the blood of people to survive. Unholy, too. Or at least, they're supposed to be. But in the movie, they made Dracula—the monster—really suave and charming. And he kidnaps the heroine, Mina Harker, because he is in love with her. It's all very romantic if you're into monsters and kidnapping, which my mom was, of course." She chuckles.