The Arena Chapter 1: Arrival

Mark stepped carefully through the trash crowding the alleyway, carefully working towards the recently discovered entrance to the Arena. The entrance, concealed behind a dumpster on wheels, led several miles underground to a vast city, or so the myths say. Supposedly built by the Macros,  an ancient race of giants, the  mythical place is supposed to house a vast Arena, where all sorts of bloodsports were held.
         Well, it’s supposed to be a legend. Mark mused. The Arena was finally discovered by the government when a truck supply depot was caught smuggling ‘contenders’ into the entrance. Everyone caught was given a chance to be set free, if they would help get an agent down there to investigate possible threat. Oddly enough, they agreed, as long as the government kept the Arena secret.
         That is where Mark came in. Called into Detroit only two hours prior, he was briefed on his new identity, and taken here. He checked the implant under his jaw, and also the one on his mastoid bone, making sure the microphone and receiver worked, respectively. He was answered by a cool female voice.
         “Mark, this is Diana. Are you in position?”
         “Roger. There are no guards outside, should I open the gate?”
         “Yes, but expect a guard once you get inside.” she paused, and Mark stepped up to the doorway.          “Remember, Mark, this is a reconnaissance mission only, no unnecessary conflict with the locals. Also, expect some Macros to be around down there.” Mark suddenly became quite rigid.
          “I thought that Macros were extinct!” He yelped.
         “Not according to our sources. Don’t worry, they don’t seem to be violent on the streets.” She said dryly. Mark cringed at the attempted humor.
         “In the Arena, do whatever is necessary to stay in the tournament. Remember, all the fights are to the death. Do be careful, Mark.” Mark steeled himself, inwardly preparing for the dangerous path ahead.
         “Thanks, Diana. Mark out.” With that, he put his paw out onto the cold steel dumpster, and pushed it. It swung back silently on well oiled hinges, and revealed a stone room that continued on for a good distance before ending with an enormous elevator door. The monstrous elevator had beside it a more conventional elevator, similarly designed, with stainless steel doors.
         Mark slowly padded into the room, expecting a trap of some sort to spring. Instead, a burly, black panther obviously male and wearing a dark military-esque uniform stalked out from a doorway in the right wall to greet him.
         “Who’re you?” the guard grunted, looking down at what appeared to be a roster. Mark inwardly braced himself, and stared unflinchingly at the rather tall panther.
         “The name’s Dev, I’m the new fighter from Boston.” The panther looked up at Mark appraisingly.
         The alibi was fairly believable, considering Marks stature and slight Bostonian accent. Mark was seven foot even, not small of stature himself, and quite muscle-bound. The twenty-six year old Wolf had trained in every form of Martial Arts he could find since he was in elementary school, and as such was more than qualified for the dangerous operation.
         The panther grunted approvingly, and shook hands vigorously with the wolf.
         “Alright, Dev, follow me to the elevator please. You sure kept us waitin’, ya know.” The panther drawled as he walked across the atrium. Mark followed closely, aware of a few other doorways, all of them without doors. He noticed a couple of other furs, dressed in uniforms like  the panthers’, lounging in another room, chatting amongst themselves.
         No Macros yet, he thought to himself, eyeing the extraordinarily high ceiling and 100 plus foot tall elevator, his heart pounding at what sort of beings could require it.
         They reached the smaller elevator, and the Panther pressed a button beside the doorway. A chime sounded, and the doors slid open smoothly  as they stepped inside. After the door slid shut, the guard pressed the lower of two buttons, and Mark felt the beginning of their descent in his stomach.
        Mark had heard of how the Macro cities were supposed to dwarf their above-ground relatives’, however, nothing could prepare him for what he saw when they finally emerged from the silent elevator. Before him was a veritable sea of buildings, stretched far as the eye could see. Obviously, due to the lack of greenery, they were mostly built from stones and bricks, piled together with simple mortar. He was surprised also by the amount of normal-sized buildings, and residents, that he saw strewn throughout the vast metropolis. The cavern which housed the city was no less impressive, with a ceiling almost a kilometer above them gently curving in a vague dome shape. Light was given off from a vast crystal on the ceiling itself, bright as the sun on the mega city.
         The city itself was not the thing that impressed him the most, however. No, that title was reserved for the numerous inhabitants of the city; the macros themselves.  Mark gaped at the gigantic furs, going about their day to day business, a few stepping over him, as though nothing at all unusual had happened.
         Of course, for them, this IS usual. Mark tried to not show his inner awe, but the panther saw through his false bravado quickly.
         “Macrodome’s a lot bigger than Boston’s little underground, isn’t it?” the panther guffawed, his eyes tearing with laughter. “’Name’s Vic, by the way, I forgot to tell ya on the way down.” The feline held out his paw, and Mark took it, shaking earnestly. A micro couple across the very wide street were waving their first two fingers in the air in an odd manner while looking up, catching Mark’s eye. Vic followed his gaze, and looked back a bit quizzically.
         “Ya really haven’t been to a big dome, have you?” Mark shook his head, his curiosity piqued.
Vic looked at his watch, and then snorted. “Well, she’s late anyways, so I guess I can tell ya a bit about the M-Trans.
         “Ya see, the micros like us down here find it pretty hard to get from point A to point B. So the city’s governor devised a new occupation: Micro-Macro Transit, or M-Trans. They use Macros like taxis upstairs, ya know?”
         At that moment, a canine macro came trundling up towards the couple, with an odd yellow stripe stitched in his jeans. The Labrador bent low towards the micros, and placed his hand on the ground, palm up. The couple happily climbed aboard the appendage, and he lifted them slowly to a pocket, where he tucked them as he began to walk away.
         Mark’s jaw dropped. Traveling, in a POCKET?!?! Vic continued on, rambling about how the M-Trans is a very safe system, and only two micros have ever been injured, as they leaned too far back in the mouth of their chauffer.
         “Wait, WHAT?! They got swallowed!?!” Vic glanced casually back at Mark.
         “Well, sure, but they were brought back out in a jiffy. They only were injured through their wrestling around IN the stomach. In fact, there are places you can pay for that type of experience; over in the ‘red light’ district.” He winked knowingly. Mark leaned against the stone wall next to the elevator exit, trying to absorb this new culture and failing miserably. He was so deep in internal struggle that he almost didn’t notice when their ride arrived. Almost.

         “Hey, Dev, our ride’s finally here!” Mark looked  up in time to see a gigantic, yet feminine, footpaw hit the ground so close that Mark could count the individual orange and white hairs. He followed the foot up a slender leg partially hidden by short shorts, to a shapely figure, round breasts under a tank top, and finally, a striking vulpine face grinning down at him.
         “Took ya long enough, Claire!” Vic yelled up at the vixen. He was answered by a flirtatious smirk.
         “Like you can talk, you  niphead!” Her voice sounded out, loud and yet sweet-sounding, like church bells at a marriage. Vic glared up at her, and then returned the smile. A large, slender handpaw settled onto the ground in front of them, and Vic gestured Mark to get onto it. 
         Mark stepped forward lightly onto her palm, instinct telling him to run away as fast as he could. Vic stepped on behind him, and then sat down.  Mark looked at him quizzically, and then was forced to his knees as the hand began to raise upward, towards Claire’s face, causing Vic to snicker.
          They finally came to a stop at around  Claire’s throat, with her looking down at them with emerald eyes.  She looked at Mark expectantly, until finally he realized what she must want.
         “M-my name is Dev, ma’am. Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand, then recognized his mistake, pulling it back. She laughed again, his proximity making it louder, but not unbearable. She then surprised him by lifting her other paw up and offering him a single claw, which he shook.
         “As you heard, my name is Claire, and I am your official chaperon.” she smiled sweetly, the rows of large teeth making Mark a little uneasy.  He sat down in her hand, mimicking Vic, and held on to one of her trunk like fingers for support, his legs dangling off the edge of her paw.  She giggled again, then looked at Vic, suddenly all business.
         “I’ll get him to the Arena, but they are a little short on room and board. Where is he going to stay?” Vic grinned maliciously.
         “You’re his chaperon,  right? His guide to our marvelous city? Why not let him stay with you?”
Claire’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she nodded.
         “Alright, then. I’ll take him to the Arena first, then I’ll pick him up and take him back home with me.” Mark could hardly believe his ears. He was going to stay with this drop-dead gorgeous beauty?
         
          After setting down Vic next to the elevators, and saying a final farewell, Claire started down towards the large street, Mark safely in her paw. Although Mark had often pondered what it would be like to be carried by a macro, he was not prepared for the thrill of being held about eighty feet in the air by someone just as warm and alive as himself. All his life, he had been told that the ancient macros were cold, hard killers, but Claire was different. If she was a fair example, then maybe this Coliseum wasn’t what everyone feared.
         As they traveled, Claire pointed out some of the buildings and what they were for. Mark was shocked to see well the macro and micro populations co-existed. He even saw a few macro-micro couples. Mark leaned out over the edge of the paw, trying to get a better glimpse of the vast street below. He noticed that the streets were surprisingly clean for a city, especially a city so large.
          He attempted to scoot back, but his grip on Claire’s paw started to slip. He began to fall off of his high perch, and shouted in surprise. A brief feeling of vertigo overcame him as he fell  towards the streets below, only to be snatched out of the air by Claire’s other handpaw. She brought him up close to her face, her eye’s filled with concern.
         “Are you okay, Dev?” she asked anxiously. Mark nodded, the adrenaline of the moment filling him with unneeded energy.
         “I’m okay, just a little shaken up.” Claire sniffed him over, her nostrils blowing warmed air all over him. He tried to squirm, but her fingers were wrapped firmly around him, holding him still. She finished her examination, and seemed satisfied. She plopped him back onto her other hand again, and he held on fast, making sure to be far enough from the edge this time, as they started down the road again.
         Mark looked up at Claire’s face, mesmerized by her beauty. She was looking down the road, not noticing her tiny admirer’s gaze. He then looked down, and saw beneath him any fur’s dream body, only a lot larger than he normally went for. Her figure was perfect, trim yet athletic, and her breasts were like  auburn hills swaying beneath him, peeking out through the gap in the white tank-top, their rhythm entrancing. His eyelids felt heavy, and Mark realized that he hadn’t slept in over a day. He rolled back over, glancing one more time at Claire’s face, before he began to doze lightly.
********************
         “Dev? Oh Deee-eeev? Wakie,wakie!” Mark’s eyes shot open, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the gigantic, glistening maw only a few feet from him. Claire closed her mouth, her teeth clicking together, and then laughed, the sound waves reverberating through the palm Mark was sitting on. Mark scooted back against her partially raised fingers, and glared up at his tormentor.
         “Aw, what’s the matter, Dev? I was only joking around, I wouldn’t have hurt you, honest!” She sulked, her large green eyes starting to shimmer. He rolled his eyes, then smiled up at her.
         “Not the best way to wake someone up, y’know? I could’ve had a heart attack!”  She licked at him playfully, her pink tongue covering his whole torso and pushing him up against her fingers. He gasped in surprise, and then growled impishly at the vixen. She pulled back in surprise, and then they both burst out laughing.  When he had gained control over himself again, Mark looked back up at her, a question in his mind.
         “Where are we?” He asked, looking at the buildings around them.
         “We’re at the entrance to the Arena, silly.” She crouched, and lowered him down to the street. He hopped lightly off of her paw, and looked back at her.
         “This is where we part ways. I’ll swing by this entrance later to pick you up.” She winked at him slyly, and then padded off around the round building.
         The Arena looked like a large, upside down bowl, held up by several hundred large pillars. Inside this pillars was  the actual walls to the place, though Mark noticed the top was slightly open. He heard the screams of a crowd emanating from the building, and a cold shiver went up his spine.
“Well,” he gulped “This is what you came here for.”