Spike sat away from the group of young krogan who were playing a game. A game of tackle the varren. He sighed as he rubbed his left arm; a twinge of pain pulsed through his arm. The other day some of the older children had played tackle the varren. And, he had the unfortunate luck of being that games varren. He wasn't just tackled; he was kicked, punched, strangled, and thrown hard into a pile of scrap metal. To say he was hurt was an understatement. To add insult to injury he was not given any medi-gel. The healer of the female clan said: “weak ones heal naturally.”. Four days ago he had arrived at the female camp. He was placed in the care of Xarph; a young krogan who had longed for a young one of her own. But, unfortunately, the genophage had taken two children from her. She almost considers walking out into the desert and letting a thresher take her. But, thanks to him she was given another chance. Spike didn't mind being called her child. In fact, he enjoyed the idea; after all, he couldn't remember his real mother. And, he really didn't know if he had a real mother. But, they didn't tell him she was one of the meanest krogan in the camp. He chuckled a little before he heard some laughter from the group nearby.

He looked up only to see all of them slowly approaching him. A look of fear appeared on his face; before he got up and started running. All of them chasing after him while yelling, “Tackle the varren!”. Spike released a cry of fear as he dashed through the streets of the camp. He looked to his left and to his right. Seeing grown female krogan looking on in amusement. He wanted to cry out for help. I wanted one of them to just stop this. But, he knew they weren't going to help him. He took a quick glance behind himself. He looked in horror for more krogan children who had joined the chase. He started to run faster than he had before; his lungs ere burning. His legs ached with every step of his feet. He wanted to stop running. But, he knew the moment he did he was going to be tackled. He then felt something suddenly wrap around his legs. He fell to the ground with a yell and then he was tackled.

For a solid minute he was beaten; he felt everything from the hardest punch to the hardest kick. He cried out in pain and every time he was called weak and pathetic. Earning himself an even harder punch or kick. He moved his arms to protect his head; only to suddenly be lifted up into the air. And, then slammed back down hard into the ground. Someone had just used abiotic slam on him. He then heard a laugh he was all too familiar with. The laugh belongs to Shanxer a young female krogan that prided herself on one thing. Being a true descendant of Shiagur; the very first female krogan warlord. He groaned loudly in pain; before he was flipped onto his back. Only to be met with the barrel of a revenant machine gun. Spike swore he felt his heart stop the moment he hears the gun click. It meant one thing he quickly learned about all of their guns; whenever you heard the click of a gun. It meant either the gun was empty or had just been cocked and ready to fire. And, at the moment the gun's clip was completely full.

Shanxer spoke in a voice as cold as ice, “You are no krogan,” She pressed the gun harder into his face, “You are weak, pathetic, frail, and a disgrace to whatever bloodline you truly do come from,” she continued as she gazed down at him, “I should just kill you here and now.” The moment she said that he could only watch in complete horror; as her finger slowly moved over the trigger. This was it he was going to die today. She was going to kill him, “But, you're not worth killing.” after she said that spike no longer felt the gun on his face. Instead, he felt a huge sense of relief; as he lay there panting and gasping for air.

One by one each of them walked away from him. Leaving him all alone in the middle of the camp. He looked around and saw none of the grown females seem to care. A fact he was starting to slowly get used to. He took in a deep breath and slowly got to his feet. He groaned a little as a small wave of pain shot from his legs. At the moment he really wanted some medi-gel. But, he wasn't going to get any of it. With a sigh, he eventually brushed the pain off and began walking back to Xarph's hut. His temporary home in the camp.

The moment the door opened to her home; Xarph looked up. Smiling sadly as she saw her adopted son entering. She got up and walked over to him; wanting to give him a caring hug. But, she knew if she did it would make him weaker. She spoke, “You were the varren again?”

Spike sighed, “Yes.” slowly he walked over to where he slept at night. He heard her ask “Did you run again?” He quickly answered, “Yes.” his voice was filled with sadness; he knew what was coming next.

Xarph hated the fact that she had to act completely heartless to him. Like him when she was at his age; she was not one of the strongest krogan in the clutch. Like him, her mother hardly showed her any love. That was until she got stronger herself. She didn't like this but it was necessary.

She then said, “Are you going to continue to be a worthless whelp that I shouldn't have taken in? Are you going to continuously bring me nothing but endless shame?” she had to stop herself for a moment; she wanted to cry, she wanted to hold him, to hug him and tell him he was strong. But, she couldn't; this was the way of the krogan. They needed warriors, not weaklings. And, this was how their warriors were made. She then continued, “Why haven't you died already?” She finished with a voice not only as cold as ice. But, also with a heart that was hurting badly.

Spike remained quiet as he continued walking over to where he slept. He wanted to cry but he did that enough earlier. Instead, he reached into a satchel close by and pulled out the piece of the weapon the shaman had given him. Followed by a datapad he had received yesterday. He turned it on and pressed a single button on the screen. The datapad activated and soon it became a map; leading him to the entrance of the camp. He walked out of the hut without saying a single word to Xarph. He didn't mind being called her son. But, at the same time he really, really, really, hated her.

Xarph watched as he walked away; disappearing into the darkness as Turchanka's sun slowly sank below the horizon. She knew what he just joined; he had just joined the hunt. A single tear fell from her eye, before she spoke softly, “Come back to me.” she begged, “Please, come back to me safe.” she couldn't bear the thought of losing another young one. She just couldn't; she then shut the door to her home. Turned off all the lights and then started to cry heavily.

It didn't take Spike long to reach the entrance; by the time he got there. There was already a large group of krogan children and adults. He was going on the hunt this time. Because he couldn't stand spending another night alone with Xarph. He then walked into the crowd; hearing the many conversations that were happening between the others in the group. He heard talks of excitement, talks of worry, talks of great beasts, talks of horrific monsters. But, then he finally heard it. He started to hear conversations about him. How he was a weakling, how he should not be here. Some were hoping that the varren would kill him. While others were wishing a threshermaw would just eat him alive. He ignored all of it. Because he too was wishing for the exact same thing.

An hour later a single male came to the camp inside a large truck. He stepped out and examined the group of hunters. Spike wasn't sure how the krogan felt; but, by his expression, he seemed almost annoyed by this. It wasn't long until all of the children were loaded onto the truck and driven away. The hunting party was a mixed group of children. Five males and three females. One of the females on the hunt was Shanxer. Who was staring coldly at Spike? How she was tempted to just toss him outside. This was going to be her first hunt with a completed weapon. And, like hell, she was going to let a weakling like him get in her way.

“Spike.” She called out at him making him look at her, “If I find you on the hunting grounds. I'll kill you and mount you on my wall.” She threatened him.

Spike ignored her and continued to look down at the floor. He was focusing on one thing and one thing only, dying. Eventually, the truck came to a stop and the first group was released onto the hunting grounds. One by one group of hunting packs were let out of the truck. Spike was part of the last group. A group of four hunters three of them armed with pistols. While he was just armed with a piece of metal. Which was part of a weapon; which weapon he had no idea of. The small group walked further into the hunting grounds. The three in front of them were doing their best to stay as far in front of him as possible. He didn't care after all he heard everything in the truck.

Spike slowed his walk and watched as the three continued to get further and further away. Until finally they were gone from his sight. Leaving him alone on the hunting grounds. In his mind, he kept praying and hoping a varren would get him. A kilxeen would burn him. He even hoped a thresher maw would swallow him whole. While in the back of his mind; he hoped a fellow hunter would find him. As he walked through the grounds. He found himself stopping and gazing up at the night sky. This world hated him and he hated it.

Spike smiled and chuckled before he spoke, “Guess we got something in common huh?” He walked a little bit more; only to suddenly trip, “AH!” He yelled as he fell flat on his face.

He groaned a little as he slowly got back on his feet. He turned and looked at what he tripped over. Only to gasp in horror as he saw the body of a fellow hunter. The body was mangled and torn; the facial features were gone. All that was left of the face; was a sight that looked like raw pyjak. Spike didn't need to take long to figure out what did this. A low threatening growl then came from the shadows nearby. He looked up only to see the red glowing eyes of a pack of varren.

He started to back away as the pack slowly approached him. Each one of them snapping and growling as they walked. He tried to find a weapon; only to see the only one weapon that was near the dead body. Was being walked on by the only large varren in the pack. It took only a moment for him to realize; he was about to die. He quickly turned and ran and the pack chased. Once again Spike finds himself running in fear. But, this tie he knew if he was caught he was going to die.

Time seems to slow for him; he turned and looked at the varren. Watching as they were slowly closing the gap. “Why aren't you dead?” The voice of Xarph echoed in his mind. “Not worth killing.” that was the voice of Shanxer. “Not a krogan. Varren meat. Weakling. Get eaten by a threshermaw.” All of these words echoed in his mind as he ran away from certain death. Each and every one of them reminding him of who he was. Reminding of what he will never be. Reminding him that he should always watch where he was running.

Spike screamed loudly as he fell down into a deep trench. Groaning loudly as his body made contact with solid concrete. He quickly got up and looked up; watching as the pack started to run down the slanted wall. He quickly started running again; the pack right on his tail. They ran and ran for a prolonged period of time. Spikes legs ached and his lungs burned for air. This tackled the varren all over again. Only this time it devoured the krogan. He looked behind him again; the pack was closer to him than ever before. One of them was close enough to take him down. So, why wasn't it going for the kill? Why was it still letting him run? Did they not want their meal? Or, were they toying with him? Just letting their prey tire itself out; that way when it was time to make the kill it would suffer.

Then all of a sudden the pack stopped running and just growled at him. Spike looked back and grew confused; until he found himself falling once again. He was getting tired of constantly falling and landing on something. When he reached the bottom he landed on his back. He gasped and gulped air into his lungs as he stared up at the night sky. He couldn't believe he was still alive. Slowly he got to his feet and looked up from where he fell.

He asked himself, “How am I still alive?” He began to examine the area around him.

He quickly found out he was in some type of arena. He had been in two since his time at the female camp. But, this arena was different it was big. There was only one big wall; the one he fell off of. Meaning you were placed inside this area and let out when someone comes to get you. He walked to the center; he heard something crunching underneath his feet. As he walked the moon eventually came out and provided him some light. Now he was filled with complete terror. For, the ground was littered with various bones. He began to hyperventilate as he backed away. He then felt himself back into something and then he heard a loud click. Followed by a loud metallic whirring sound. He turned just in time to see a large stone being lifted into the air. He was completely confused; what was going on?

A loud booming voice echoed from the arena, “First the krogan conquered Tuchanka...and master a natural world only we are fit to hold..” There was a small pause before the stone came slamming back down. Spike covered his ears and groaned in pain. His ears rang for a few seconds until it grew silent again. He wondered what the purpose was for this. His answer was a threatening growl that came from behind him. He slowly turned and look back at the wall. Only to see a massive pack of varren looking down at him. Each of them ready to finally kill him.

Author's Note

Chapter 3 I'm glad to see many people are enjoying this story. thanks for the likes, faves, tracks, and comments. thank you to all the readers.