Help the Knotters.

You look around. ****, ****, monsters. This isn't the time to feel sympathy, no, there's only one way to survive the monsters of this hellhole. And it's to become one of them. You charge the group, both sides looking on in surprise at you, the Knotters raise their knives in a defensive stance and the humans begin pushing forward, "Thank you brothe-" the human man's thanks is cut short as you slam into him, ramming your knife deep into his kidney, piercing the organ and leaving him wracked with pain. The Knotter's raise their faces and laugh with manic adrenaline. No doubt relishing in their good fortune. The other two humans look on in terror, seeing as how their last chance at survival just stabbed one of them. Then the two Knotters descend on them, sinking their steel into soft flesh and ending their lives. The man whom you stabbed looks up at you. His face stony and emotionless. You look into his eyes, and see the swirl of emotions inside of him. This is a human. Your own flesh and blood. Then he dies.

The Knotters pat you on the back and run of without another word. The contestants have now dwindled to only you. You raise your knife into the air, in triumph? You can't quite say. But the roars of approval at your betrayal of your own race offer nothing to you.

"WE HAVE OUR WINNNNNERRR! IN AN ASTOUNDING DISPLAY OF TREACHERY AND CUNNING, BEFITTING THAT OF ANY DEMON, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF. OUR HUMAN HAS FOUND HIMSELF VICTORIOUS!" the announcer's voice cuts in and the Arena goes quiets down, "Now, as a special treat for our debut of humans to the Arena. Our benefactor, Lixash Itesim, will administer the reward." at this, the crowd goes wild. What was a frenzy before has turned into a full blown riot, with every spectator clamoring to witness their benefactor in the flesh. You can't help but feel a little anxious as well. A burst of motion, a black swath of wings blurs by you, landing in a heap of writhing black hair and pale skin. Her body exudes sex,r long legs covered in blood red latex, and healthy bust hanging tightly in strips of cloth. "Kneel." the succubus places a heeled boot to your cock and balls and forces you to sit. She smiles lazily, as if making humans bend to her every word is a everyday occurrence. And looking at her, it probably is. "Now, what do you want?"

Stunned, you ask the first thing that comes to mind. "H-huh?"

She plants her face into a gloved hand and sighs, "Power? Money? Strength? Come on, wrack that tiny little brain of yours for once in your life."

"Oh, well... I guess I'll take