Joanne, a serial killer you arrested

You look in the direction the witch points. A woman you know has entered the arena. She wears only underwear, has brown hair and a face full of scratching scars. Hers eyes are deeper in her holes as It's normally the case and she looks like she hasn't slept for a few days. You know this woman as Joanne. A serial killer you arrested during your time as a guard. And she has an iron bar in her hands.

“Joanne,” you say less impressed, “thought your ugly face was already buried.”

“The day of my execution was put on a later date,” Joanne says grinning, “bad luck for you that my new friend here freed me faster. Guess you are not so happy that you put me in chains anymore. I will beat you to mush. Just continue and act like the arrogant brat you always were. When you are a bloody bunch of meat and broken bones begging at my feet for **** I will be the one laughs last.”

“I see you remember her, ****,” Keylara says and ignores Joanne's interruption, “would you like to tell us your point of view?”

“There is no big story,” you say dry, “last year the guards found the body of a dead woman. Her throat was cut. I investigated on behalf of my father. Then we found another corpse. Until last month there were seven dead woman and three dead men. All killed by the same ****. A month ago we set up a trap and caught Joanne here attacking our decoy with a knife which turned out to be the **** weapon. Later she confessed that she killed the woman because they were more beautiful then her and the men because they didn't admit her beauty. She was brought to court and sentenced to ****. Case solved.”

“You fucking jerk,” Joanne growls and balls her fists, “you dare to call me a ****? Of course the son of the noble Perell family is so much better then us common townspeople. You have been raised with a silver spoon in the mouth while I had to work every fucking day in my life. But you think you can judge over me?”

“You were a lazy cobbler assistant who spend half her work time daydreaming about a prince taking care of you,” you reply, “in the end you were lost in a fantasy world and let other pay the price of your messed up mind.”

“Enough, both of you!” Keylara shouts, “as much as I enjoy your silly argument, I brought you here to amuse my loyal supporters. You are entertainment. We want to watch you fighting. Joanne here is a woman so she is allowed to carry a weapon. Oh, and you will strip to your underwear so the fight will be more pleasant for my guests.”

You raise an eyebrow but follow the order. It's very clear what will happen if you disobey. So you take of your shirt and your pants. As soon as you ravel your stunning muscles a lot of women in wolf whistle or moan enjoying. A few even make jealous comments about you being already taken by the dark witch.

“Nice view, I like it shaved,” Keylara comments and caresses your muscles gently, “glad I made you my property before someone else took you. To the rules! You start with only your fists but you are allowed to disarm your opponent. But you are not allowed to use her weapon against her. If you leave the ring I will snap with my fingers and punish you. Joanne has no collar so she is allowed to leave the ring. If Joanne gives up you have to stop fighting and she looses. If you give up, Joanne is allowed to hurt you until I tell her to stop. If one of you becomes **** he looses. Neither you nor her is allowed to kill on purpose. Questions?”

You shake your head. That are very clear rules. Even if they are only made to make it more difficult for you.

“If she wins she is allowed to use you as a toy for the rest of the day,” Keylara explains, “and of course she is allowed to join my army as a lower officer. I am very sure that she will win. She is a motivated woman.”

“And if I win?” you ask.

“Then nothing,” Keylara says strict, “you are a men. You deserve no reward.”

“Are you serious?” Zarraz suddenly asks, “isn't this fight already unfair enough? It's one thing if you fight to survive but a arena fight for nothing? Let him at last fight for a piece of bread.”

“Zarraz, my friend,” Keylara says disappointed and shakes her head, “I see no reason in giving a worthless male a reward he not deserves. Didn't you kind fights in such arenas without rewards too? Only for the honor of the victory, right?”

“We do, but we do it out of our own free will,” Zarraz answers, “a useless fight for nothing has no honor.”

“Fine, if you feel better then,” “if you win, ****, you will get a bowl of potato soop. Not that this matters. You will not win. Your opponent is a woman ans so she is in every view superior to you.”

“And has a weapon,” mumbles Zarraz sarcastic, “whatever. Fight brave and don't go down too soon. We want to see a good fight. Especially me. We orcs love good fights.”