TW: violence, mild gore, mentioning of physical and psychological torture.

This story follows the theory that Arlong and his comrades were enslaved in Mary Geoise rather than sent to Impel Down.

The one shot is written in 3rd person, as I am too used to writing in 2nd and I was losing touch with it. I had to exercise.

Also, reader is described as muscular as an effect of her Devil Fruit.

-*-

This is hell.

The ferrous taste of blood filled his mouth, mixing with the flavour of sweat and phlegm.

I won't lose.

The fibrotic membrane between his fingers wrinkled when his nails clawed the soil.

I can't lose.

The hoarse screams of the crowd sounded dull into his ears.

Disgusting.

He spat a clot of blood, teeth and other fluids on the floor before difficultly rising back to his feet. The crowd went berserk.

«KILL HIM! FUCKING RIP HIM APART! I BET A LOT ON MONEY ON YOU, FUCKING MONSTER!»

Disgusting.

His rival hesitated. He wasn't expecting to see his enemy stand after that last blow.

Exhausted, they both were. Tortured, they both were.

Abused. With parts missing. Hopeless.

If there ever was something resembling a heart, in Arlong's chest, he had long forgotten it.

His current opponent was a half-giant. But much younger than him. And not giant enough.

There it was, that desperate, rabid fear taking over his eyes.

Arlong had seen that before. He had even felt it. And when he was certain he could never feel it again (that he could feel nothing again), they found new ways to bring it back.

So now he knew, the one thing nobody can take away from you.

Pain.

He would kill this opponent, just as he killed the ones before, until someone would finally kill him.

The arena was all cheers and laughter when his eyes went white and he tore the half-giant apart with the sole strength of his jaws.

Those fucking flashing lights cut through the darkness and reverberated over the gushes of blood spilling on the ring. The DJs thought it was a nice idea to play some heavy metal over the scene, maybe to cover the screams.

«AND THE SHARK SNATCHES ANOTHER VICTORY! WILL HE SURVIVE THE REST OF THE DEATHMACH?! Let me remind you, today's warriors have to go through the whole tournament if they want a chance to survive~»

Arlong's jaws snapped and the piece of intestine in his mouth was cut in half.

The now exposed heart of his opponent was still beating, but he wasn't screaming anymore.

Blood continued to gush in synch with his cardiac muscle, all over the place, not channelled in the vessels anymore. It stopped slowly.

«THAT'S WHAT WE LIKE, SOME GOOD OL' GORE! NOW QUICK, CLEAN UP THE RING SO WE CAN CONTINUE!»

"Warrior" was an euphemism for any slave that was deemed worthy of being thrown into the arena. And by "worthy" they meant it would offer a good show.

It didn't necessarily have to be a fight. They had thrown Tontatta in before, just because they made a funny sound when they were crushed.

Arlong wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while other slaves fretted around him to clean the arena and drag the corpse away.

If it was a Fishman, this time, maybe he could finally...

«YES, BRING IN THE NEXT WARRIOR! NOW, THIS ONE IS A SNAKENECK, BUT HE WAS BORN WITH DEFORMITIES AND--»

«Excuse meeee~»

The amplified, female voice echoed in the pavilion among the painful cries of the microphone, effectively shutting the announcer.

The man faltered in shock before sticking out from his high platform to spot the cause of interruption.

It had to be a Celestial Dragon. Only one of them had the authority to...

He squinted when he saw the figure idly walking down the stairs of the southern bleachers, flanked by two taller ones in black capes.

It was a woman. Not noble.

Most of the huge arena fell in whispers and uncredulous glares.

Arlong's eyes flicked on her.

She wasn't big, but the muscles in her bare arms were more defined that most human women he had ever seen, and her shoulders were kind of large as well. There was a microphone in her right hand, probably stolen from somewhere along her way, since it continued hissing unpleasantly. A white mask concealed the upper part of her face, but her lips curved in a seraphic smile when he looked her way.

«HUH, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO--»

«I want him.»

Her finger rose and pointed right at Arlong.

«YOU CAN'T--»

«She's CP-0 elite agent, Akuma-san*.» it was one of the managers, approaching from behind «She's here to hand-pick warriors for her personal guard. You should consider it a honour.»

The presenter hastily turned to the man in suit, his grip tightening around the mic.

«But the Celestial Dragons...»

He glanced up to the VIP gallery. No movement could be detected behind the tinted glasses.

«They won't protest.» the manager informed, his voice not cracking in the slightest «She's honoured by Mjosgard-sama's favour.»

Boos and protests started pouring on her from the audience, but she didn't seem to mind, her smirk still locked to Arlong's livid eyes.

She stopped a few feet from the ring, finally in ear's range, and dropped the microphone to the floor.

«So, what do you say? Still better than remaining here and die.»

His gaze didn't falter.

«I won't serve a human.»

She shrugged, her face turning around to observe the surroundings before settling back to him.

«Looks to me you already are.»

His scarred hand balled into fists.

«I will kill you if you come any closer.»

A long sigh inflated and deflated her torso.

«Schrocchan.»

«Aye.»

One of the black figures to her side darted into the ring.

In the brief moment that followed, Arlong thought he saw a paw, instead of a hand, appearing from beneath the cape. Then his neck was hit and his sight went blank.

Nightmares had long become companions to him.

He wouldn't go as far as calling them friends. It was more like... how to explain? He knew they were there, as long as he closed his eyes. He could rely they were there. They were familiar.

Maybe the only familiar thing he had left.

At least, during nightmares, he could see his nakama again.

Sure, he would witness over and over the horrific way they were tortured to death in front of him, the tears streaming down their contorted faces as they screamed and beg for his help.

As if he could do anything.

But at least he knew the scenes by heart, he knew they would eventually die. No one could hurt them anymore.

But I am still here.

Every time he woke up, this awareness clawed at his lungs and it was hard to breathe for a moment. He had to live another day.

All because he refused to give in to humans and die. Hatred kept him alive.

«You're finally awake. I was afraid we hit you too hard.»

Arlong squinted, then shook his head.

He tried to move from the bedding on the floor, but he soon discovered his limbs were chained to the wall.

«Sorry, I couldn't risk you waking up and attacking one of my servants.»

He turned his head.

There she was, that female human he saw in the arena. Everything came back to him.

A low growl rumbled in his throat.

«Easy. There's not much you can do at the moment.»

She had sweatpants and a plain T-shirt hanging from her figure. From the position she was, crouching on the floor in front of him with her arms resting over her knees, he could see her biceps bulging. Her lips were still tugged into a smile.

He wanted to tear that smile from her face. With his teeth.

«You're part of my squad now. I'm your new boss.»

Arlong felt the blazing hatred pumping through his veins and his jaws snapped.

He was wrong. There was something else familiar.

«The moment I'm out of these chains, I will eat you alive.»

Her smirk morphed into a childish pout.

«You can't win against me. Don't you have even a sliver of Observation haki?»

The shark spat on the floor. He always sucked at Observation.

«I'll never serve you. Ask the slavers that came before you. They were a lot.»

The woman mouth crooked to the side and she seemed to ponder his words.

«I'm not a slaver. All my underlings receive a fair retribution for their services, in addition to food, a roof over their head and, oh yes, freedom from their previous masters. Sure, they cannot leave, but there's nothing I can do about it. This is the best deal I got away with.» her eyes flicked on his «The best deal you are ever gonna get.»

«How merciful of you!» Arlong laughed, his arms giving a curt tug to the shackles «A dog of the Government that comes and saves the oppressed! Good job! Now let me out so I can show my gratitude by biting your head off!»

The woman huffed.

«You got the wrong idea. I only take what I need, and I need a Fishman now.»

Arlong gritted his monstruous teeth.

«Why a Fishman?»

«I'll tell you when you get a bit more cooperative, okay?» she stood «Rest, for the moment. Your wounds must heal and we should think of a decent prothesis for that leg.»

«I DON'T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU!»

The wall beside Arlong's head exploded, startling him.

He sensed it before he could see it, the arm stretched by his cheek that plunged into the smashed bricks, a subtle crackle of electricity darting across her skin.

And then he smelled her, that faint scent of brine he longed so painfully, her face inches from his, the hot breath fanning his broken nose, her locks tickling his mangled gills. She was much smaller than him, he could have opened his jaw and bitten her face off as he threated.

He didn't dare.

«I'm not asking, Arlong of the Sun Pirates.»

He didn't move a single muscle as she slowly withdrew, stepping back. The tense atmosphere seemed to dissolve when she shrugged.

«You don't have a choice right now. If you behave, though, you may have soon enough.»

One year later.

«Will you tell me now?»

«Hm?»

«Why a Fishman.»

«Oh, that.»

«...»

«With a Devil Fruit like mine, I can face anything they ask me to. Except...»

The sea.

Arlong stared into the depths of the water, waves raging around the sinking atolls.

Finally. After all that time. The sea was in front of him. The abyss was within his grasp.

It stared back at him, dark, inviting.

The moment the waters would close around him, enveloping him in their maternal thickness, it was done.

No Government dog could chase him down there.

The chaos of the battle was still surrounding him, men and non-men were killing each other, the flames danced high on all the pieces of land that hadn't been swallowed by the sea yet, and the air was heavy with smoke.

But there was silence inside him, a silence beaten by the hammering of his heart and the blood ringing in his ears.

Yes, his gills were ruined and his webs torn, but he could make it.

A dive was all it would take.

The clangs of two swords colliding burst just feet beside him, partially shaking him from his paralysis.

«What are you doing, shark?!» it was the cat mink, another fuckin' servant, just like him.

The feline showed his fangs and hissed at the enemy he was trying to hold back.

«Our master is in the water! This is your whole damn purpose, get her out of there!»

Arlong took a step forward, just before other enemies could engage him, and dived.

Oh, heavenly salt mother, I have missed you.

It was like sinking in a warm dream, where nothing could touch him anymore.

Home was finally within reach.

Arlong stopped and closed his eyes, indulging into a moment of longing.

Fishmen Island. The district. The guys. The gardens of algae. Sharley. Even that fucking Neptune and his royal squirts.

Who knows who was still living there. Would he recognize the faces, walking down from Fishmen District to the city centre? The places? Was the orphanage where he always remembered? Were there still kids knowing the Sun Pirates' name?

Was that still home?

It was possible now, his dream of return.

Arlong opened his eyes.

But that's all it is. A dream.

Even with a sprint, he wasn't nearly as fast as he used to be. After years of only sporadic swimming in a pitiful tank, his muscles could not handle real water.

But that was okay. He didn't need too much for it.

The fishman spotted the sinking woman, deep down, where the blue turned dark and the chaos of the surface was just a muffled memory.

She was still conscious, just barely.

Of course she was.

How small she looked in the infinite innards of the ocean, without her Devil Fruit to gift her the monstrous power, without the white mask of the CP-0, stripped of everything.

Arlong swam right in front of her. Her vacuous eyes saw him and she smiled.

«You fucking woman.»

His massive hands wrapped around her neck and he gritted his teeth.

«You're not high and mighty anymore, huh?! You're nothing in here. I can fucking dominate you. I can do whatever I want to you!»

He squeezed and her mouth opened in a silent gasp, silver bubbles escaping her throat. It stopped quickly and her suffering eyes returned on him.

Suffering, yes, yet limpid and... peaceful?

Arlong snarled.

What lies he spoke.

«You're the worst of them all!» he shouted in her face «Before you, at least I had my pride! I had myself!»

The hate that kept him alive.

And now...

Her gaze became unfocused.

His grip left her neck and he swiftly pulled her against his chest before darting to the surface.

The moment he resurfaced, far enough from the fighting, he squeezed her torso and she started coughing water.

The shark swam around the furthest atoll to hide from the battle, then climbed over the small piece of land, dragging the woman with him.

«You humans are fucking useless in the sea.»

She was still coughing her wheezing, but could eventually grasp the rock with her own hands and rolled on her stomach, away from him.

Despite her struggling, a crooked smirk tugged at her lips.

«T-That's why... cough! That's why... I have you.»

His teeth snapped and he averted his gaze, turning to the sea instead.

...

«You can go.»

His eyes widened and flicked back to her.

«What?»

«You can go.»

The woman had risen on her four now, a determined expression hardening her features already. She was preparing to join the fight again.

«You did your job. If you bolt now, no one's gonna notice, and then it'll be too late to find you. This is your chance. I don't know if you're ever gonna get another.»

Arlong stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds, then stared at the water.

Like a siren, it was chanting, calling to him.

And yet he couldn't.

It took around two minutes for her to be stable on her own two feet.

«Huff, time to go back to work.»

She stretched one arm, the other, then finally moved the first steps around the atoll. Before leaving though, she glanced back at his frozen figure. And smiled.

«Of course you can stay. I wouldn't mind if you did. You've been good today.»

Then she left.

Good.

Like a dog. An obedient pet that did his job.

Disgusting.

And even so... she wouldn't mind if he stayed.

Arlong was ashamed of himself.

Not just because of his actions, but because of how those words made him feel.

Yes, she was the worst of them all.

She picked him up when he was only looking for a way to die and she forced a purpose onto him.

A purpose that went against everything he ever stood for.

Arlong now realised, although on some level he had known for a while, she somehow deeply imprinted her will inside him.

Little by little, day after day, she slowly implanted small fragments of herself in his head, in his chest, in his guts.

He noticed too late.

She was a monster.

But not the one he saw when she first showed him her full transformation.

Mythical Zoan, Hito Hito no Mi, model: Akuma.

He remembered the icy fear expanding in his stomach when he was face to face with the Demon.

No, she was much more terrifying than that.

His eyes were glued to the sea, the invisible sirens chanting for him just beneath the surface.

Longing it madly, forever unable to extend his hand and disappear in the abyss.

«You don't have a choice right now. If you behave, though, you may have soon enough.»

Arlong laughed.

«Liar.»

-*-

* "Akuma" means "demon" in Japanese, it's the code name for the reader.

I have several ideas for this MC and her DF. In my head, her story is much more extensive, just as her connections with numerous One Piece characters.

It's possible that I will utilize this character again, in the future.