The Breakout
Left. Right. Slash.
Movements repeated for years on end. Blood and sweat pours out of him like a waterfall. But not tears. There is no room for that in this underground prison. The only sanctuary he knows - his cradle and his grave.
Gore them. Do not relent.
And this? The only satisfaction he has to give.
But don't you want more? You're just a dead man walking.
The dilapidated cell shudders as its iron gates are thrown wide, and the Warden walks in eyes filled with intent.
"Get ready. Your next show is coming in an hour."
The prisoner has no fight left to fight. But fight is all he knows. And so he heeds the words of the Warden, and they descend the depths of the prison once more.
Fight and struggle. Seek salvation with your own hands. Take that next step
The halfling slams into the cage walls, blood pouring down from large gash wounds down her side, palms singed with faint traces of magic overuse. The crowd goes wild as a booming voice resonates. "AND THE WINNER! THE BULL!" The screaming and shouting continues for a minute, the minotaur in the cage basking in his glory. But there is no glory to be found here - only the next fight. That's not right, you know. The Warden walks into the cage, his voice loud and prideful as he pats the minotaur on the back. "My friends, that is how you do it. Now, onto the next round!" The Warden turns around, whispering to the minotaur under his breath. "You win this next one, and I'll have a wonderful surprise for you." The Warden looks expectantly at the Bull, who simply nods. Satisfied, the Warden walks out as the cheers continue to ring. "AND NOW, WE HAVE A SPECIAL MATCH JUST FOR YOU! THE MOST TENACIOUS OF THEM ALL! THE CHIMERA CHAMPION!" Lumbering from the opposite end of the cage is a hulking behemoth of a figure. His head is humanoid, with a short stubble and cropped black hair, but the rest of his body is an amalgamation of limbs and weapons. A look of gnawing agony meets the minotaur's eyes, and the Chimera snarls in rage and suffering. This is it, the minotaur thought. With a roar, the minotaur charges at the monstrosity. The spectators are satisfied - two warriors on equal footing, battling to the death. And for the minotaur? A chance to prove himself. Bullshit. To what? He does not know, and in that split second of confusion his grip on the battleaxe slips, clattering on the sandy ground. The Chimera extends a limb - the head of a snake mixed with an arm - and bites down with it on the Minotaur's extended hands. The minotaur howls in pain as the crowd roars. "UH OH! A SOLID BITE, AND IT'S LOOKING LIKE HE WON'T LET GO!" There is no glory here, no reason. Only life or death. And the minotaur now gazes at its very jaws. No honor, no glory. Just life or death. But is that so wrong? No, the minotaur thought with gritted teeth as the lumbering Chimera pulls him closer. Really? Then prove it. I want to live, the minotaur again thought. An honest desire bearing the burden of an eternity. A simple wish in the dark. Yet the dark answers. Yes, that's it. Baby steps. Roaring defiantly, the minotaur breaks free of the Chimera's death grip and lifts it up. With a heave he brings the misbegotten fiend to heel and lodges his battleaxe, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His mind is overwhelmed, thoughts speeding past. But of course the beast would not be slain so easily. The Chimera Champion groans and, axe lodged, rises to its feet and pushing the minotaur off. It paces around, limping slightly, before charging straight at the recovering minotaur. Injured and desperate, he can only hold on for dear life, pushing futilely back against the Chimera. Though the victories be hollow, claim them. Though the losses be grave, endure them. You're ready for that next step, so fight. Shaky hands grip the handle of the axe lodged in the beast, and a spark of black lightning coarses through the steel. The minotaur's eyes light up with a terrible glint, even as he is pushed back to a wall. Doing good, kid. Now finish it. The spark grows blinding as a thunderous noise ripples through the cage, and with a triumphant bellow the minotaur carves a swathe through the Chimera Champion. Obsidian lightning surges, blanketing the dark arena in a dark, purple afterglow. The spectators stare stunned. The Warden cannot believe his eyes - this was to be a death knell for the Bull, after all. "...A-AND THE WINNER, ONCE AGAIN, THE BULL!" The announcer cries out, but his voice is tinged with disbelief and nervousness. There was good money riding on the Chimera Champion, after all. And in the midst of it all, the minotaur stands victorious over the hollowed-out corpse of the beast. Slowly the adrenaline fades, and the wounds begin to hurt. But the kindling continues to burn. Not done yet. But you'll need a lot more help to get out of this. Let it not be said that I'm not a kind God. Smoke begins to bleed throughout the arena, blotting out what dim lighting exists; confused spectators begin to stand up in alarm as the announcer tries to placate them. The Warden panics, moving to the exit. This world is cruel, and will remain cruel. Existence is driven by conflict unending. A glowering hunger fills the minotaur, a demand for blood and viscera. This conflict has not concluded just yet. Lifting the bloody battleaxe, the Bull walks into that fog of war.
The walls of the prison-arena is drenched in scarlet red and filled with the scent of burnt flesh. Born anew, the minotaur limps slowly towards the exit, wounds slowly healing by the gift graced upon him by a higher power. Yet even as he leaves behind the echoes of a painful, forgotten past, the lone minotaur trudges on with a new resolve deep in his bosom. The Bull died nameless within the dark depths of this prison. Tate Abi is born and ready to live, whatever that entails.
Fight and struggle. Seek salvation with your own hands. Take that next step
The halfling slams into the cage walls, blood pouring down from large gash wounds down her side, palms singed with faint traces of magic overuse. The crowd goes wild as a booming voice resonates. "AND THE WINNER! THE BULL!" The screaming and shouting continues for a minute, the minotaur in the cage basking in his glory. But there is no glory to be found here - only the next fight. That's not right, you know. The Warden walks into the cage, his voice loud and prideful as he pats the minotaur on the back. "My friends, that is how you do it. Now, onto the next round!" The Warden turns around, whispering to the minotaur under his breath. "You win this next one, and I'll have a wonderful surprise for you." The Warden looks expectantly at the Bull, who simply nods. Satisfied, the Warden walks out as the cheers continue to ring. "AND NOW, WE HAVE A SPECIAL MATCH JUST FOR YOU! THE MOST TENACIOUS OF THEM ALL! THE CHIMERA CHAMPION!" Lumbering from the opposite end of the cage is a hulking behemoth of a figure. His head is humanoid, with a short stubble and cropped black hair, but the rest of his body is an amalgamation of limbs and weapons. A look of gnawing agony meets the minotaur's eyes, and the Chimera snarls in rage and suffering. This is it, the minotaur thought. With a roar, the minotaur charges at the monstrosity. The spectators are satisfied - two warriors on equal footing, battling to the death. And for the minotaur? A chance to prove himself. Bullshit. To what? He does not know, and in that split second of confusion his grip on the battleaxe slips, clattering on the sandy ground. The Chimera extends a limb - the head of a snake mixed with an arm - and bites down with it on the Minotaur's extended hands. The minotaur howls in pain as the crowd roars. "UH OH! A SOLID BITE, AND IT'S LOOKING LIKE HE WON'T LET GO!" There is no glory here, no reason. Only life or death. And the minotaur now gazes at its very jaws. No honor, no glory. Just life or death. But is that so wrong? No, the minotaur thought with gritted teeth as the lumbering Chimera pulls him closer. Really? Then prove it. I want to live, the minotaur again thought. An honest desire bearing the burden of an eternity. A simple wish in the dark. Yet the dark answers. Yes, that's it. Baby steps. Roaring defiantly, the minotaur breaks free of the Chimera's death grip and lifts it up. With a heave he brings the misbegotten fiend to heel and lodges his battleaxe, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His mind is overwhelmed, thoughts speeding past. But of course the beast would not be slain so easily. The Chimera Champion groans and, axe lodged, rises to its feet and pushing the minotaur off. It paces around, limping slightly, before charging straight at the recovering minotaur. Injured and desperate, he can only hold on for dear life, pushing futilely back against the Chimera. Though the victories be hollow, claim them. Though the losses be grave, endure them. You're ready for that next step, so fight. Shaky hands grip the handle of the axe lodged in the beast, and a spark of black lightning coarses through the steel. The minotaur's eyes light up with a terrible glint, even as he is pushed back to a wall. Doing good, kid. Now finish it. The spark grows blinding as a thunderous noise ripples through the cage, and with a triumphant bellow the minotaur carves a swathe through the Chimera Champion. Obsidian lightning surges, blanketing the dark arena in a dark, purple afterglow. The spectators stare stunned. The Warden cannot believe his eyes - this was to be a death knell for the Bull, after all. "...A-AND THE WINNER, ONCE AGAIN, THE BULL!" The announcer cries out, but his voice is tinged with disbelief and nervousness. There was good money riding on the Chimera Champion, after all. And in the midst of it all, the minotaur stands victorious over the hollowed-out corpse of the beast. Slowly the adrenaline fades, and the wounds begin to hurt. But the kindling continues to burn. Not done yet. But you'll need a lot more help to get out of this. Let it not be said that I'm not a kind God. Smoke begins to bleed throughout the arena, blotting out what dim lighting exists; confused spectators begin to stand up in alarm as the announcer tries to placate them. The Warden panics, moving to the exit. This world is cruel, and will remain cruel. Existence is driven by conflict unending. A glowering hunger fills the minotaur, a demand for blood and viscera. This conflict has not concluded just yet. Lifting the bloody battleaxe, the Bull walks into that fog of war.
The walls of the prison-arena is drenched in scarlet red and filled with the scent of burnt flesh. Born anew, the minotaur limps slowly towards the exit, wounds slowly healing by the gift graced upon him by a higher power. Yet even as he leaves behind the echoes of a painful, forgotten past, the lone minotaur trudges on with a new resolve deep in his bosom. The Bull died nameless within the dark depths of this prison. Tate Abi is born and ready to live, whatever that entails.
Comments