Blood and Obsidian

The stone court reeked of sweat and blood, its high walls etched with the ghosts of a thousand lost souls. Tonight, the moon watched like a silver eye, unblinking, as the game began.

Kikel stood among the other slaves, the iron taste of fear thick on his tongue. They had stripped him of everything—his family, his freedom, even his name. The only thing left was survival.

The whistle blew.

The head rolled onto the court, its lifeless eyes staring into the void. Kikel clenched his fists. This was no game. This was a ritual of death. The losing team would feed the hungry gods, their blood staining the temple steps before dawn.

His opponents lunged, desperate to strike the severed head through the stone hoop. Kikel dodged, twisting his body. He wouldn’t die here. He couldn’t. His son was still out there, hiding in the jungle, waiting for him.

A warrior swung at him with an obsidian blade. Kikel ducked, his instincts sharper than stone. He grabbed a fallen club and drove it into the man’s ribs. The warrior crumpled, and Kikel seized his weapon. The court erupted in chaos.

The overseers roared, leaping into the fray with their jaguar pelts flowing behind them. Kikel fought like a cornered beast, his body moving on sheer will. Blades flashed, blood spattered the stone. He knew only one thing—he had to get out.

A break in the wall. A moment of hesitation. Kikel sprinted.

Arrows whistled past him as he vaulted over the stone ledge, landing hard on the jungle floor. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tore through the darkness, the shouts of the warriors fading behind him.

The jungle swallowed him whole, a labyrinth of shadow and sound. He ran until his legs gave out, collapsing in the roots of an ancient ceiba tree.

Then—movement. Small hands touched his face.

"Father," whispered a voice.

His son. Alive.

Kikel pulled him close, pressing his forehead against the boy’s. He had fought through hell to get here. And now, they would fight together to stay free.

The jungle stirred around them. The gods were still watching. But tonight, Kikel was no offering.

Tonight, he was the hunter.