Bloodsport

The two dogs snarled and leapt at each other with a ferocity that none of the spectators in the barn that night had ever seen. The animals were large and nobody really knew what breed they were. Buy someone had put them in the ring and they were going at it tooth and nail, so people laid their stakes and began to cheer on their mount.

Shouts of "Sick 'em" and "Have at him" circled around the barn and were the only real words that could be picked out from the screams and cheers.

The dog fights had been a monthly fixture in the abandoned farm house for some time now. Nobody knew much about it, and nobody cared to, the more secretive the better and they knew it.

It was always the same sort of dog, two large beasts; they looked like German Shepherds only bigger, much bigger. They were strong too, if one was thrown into the guardrails the provided the walls to the canine octagon they would shake as if hit by a train.

The dogs were always in place when the guests arrived, often all having gathered outside the locked barn doors before hand, so as that they could all enter together and avoid any name calling or potentially volatile accusations being thrown.

The fight tonight though was a real hum-dinger. The dogs were really giving it to each other. One was missing an ear and the skin over the left part of its skull and been pulled back and flapped around like a bad toupee. The other was bleeding from a deep wound in its flank and its left hind leg was clearly broken. It dragged limply on the floor like a poorly placed second tail. They snarled and roared and just kept coming. It had even been more than some of the regulars could bear to take. Three had already stepped outside... not venturing too far for they still had to collect their winnings should they have backed the right beast.

Eventually, or perhaps thankfully, one dog took control, closing its jaws around the throat of its opponent and with a series of violent shakes snapped the beast’s neck. It fell lifeless to the floor, while the other beast stood, breathing heavily, and its half scalped skull pumping blood into its eyes. It stood and almost looked at each of the spectators in turn before simply lying down, exhausted.

The victors strode forward and collected their winnings, the losers trundled home their heads bowed yet already eager for the next round, whenever it would be.

Nobody bothered with the dogs, it would be taken care of, and they all knew it.

The next morning, just as the sun was cresting on the horizon the doors to the barn opened, and two men strode out. The barn behind them was empty, everything tidied away.

"You really went for it last night brother." One man said as they stood squinting, allowing their eyes - always sensitive after the change- to adjust.

"You too. It must have been a clear night, the moon was strong." The largest and eldest of the brother spoke.

"How much did we make?" The other asked.

"About fifteen grand at first look. Shame it's only once a month." He mused.

"Yeah. Listen man, this is fun, but next month I want to win." The youngest asked hopefully

"Okay." His brother replied, slapping him on the back and setting off towards their car which was parked behind the barn.