The body builder stood, and eyed Sam. He’d seen him execute the Asian man and it was clear he had no intention of picking a fight. Sam’s eyes darted over the other man. Even if he excelled in close combat, it was never fun going up against someone with 30kg or so over you. Sam was about to turn and walk away to find easier prey when the body builder spoke up,

“Want to team up? I bet between the two of us there is no one who could take us within a few minutes of here.”

Sam stopped midturn and looked him in the eyes. He’d like to think he was a decent judge of character and It seemed like a genuine offer, so he replied,

“What’s your name?”

“Jake”

Sam had a small smile spreading across his lips as he heard the Kiwi accent and he studied him for another moment before deciding.

“Alright, I’m Sam, we’ll make a temporary truce. We try to find easy targets and gang up on them, taking one kill and then giving the other the next. We’ll try to make this as easy as possible by avoiding any difficult confrontations. If you decide you want to go your own way, say so and I will let you. If you decide to attack me, I will kill you. Fair?”

Jake gulped and nodded in agreement at Sam’s no bullshit attitude before walking over to him, maintaining a slight distance in case of any sudden action or betrayal. Taking another bearing of the surroundings it was clear to see that the number of people left alive had dwindled. There were still loads of people, but Sam realised he could see much further in any direction without the dense press of bodies before him. Instead, the ground was littered with bodies to the point that it was almost unavoidable that they’d trample over the dead, especially those that were half concealed in the mud underfoot. Worst of all, he’d felt nothing for them, they were just part of the terrain to him.

Looking around, it was plain to see that they weren’t the only pair that had formed an uneasy truce. A group of four men, fifty metres away pointed over towards them and began making their way towards them.

So long for finding an easy target, Sam grunted. One of them was badly injured however and now held a significant limp. From where he was standing, it looked like a classic fractured ankle. An easily obtainable injury given the uneven, squishy terrain, not to mention all the violence. The other three realised they were going to be slowed by the fourth and without hesitation they set upon him. The fact that he’d been partnered with them moments before mattered naught as they toppled him over and brutally kicked him until he stopped moving. One of them must have received a message signifying his demise as they stopped and turned back towards Sam and Jack.

Jack seemed to have gone rather pale in the face at the display and so Sam took the opportunity to try and take his mind off what they’d witnessed.

“So Jacky boy, before all this, you ever fight?”

Jack turned to face him, “my gym taught boxing, I sparred a few times but wasn’t too keen on it, prefer weights”

No shit he prefers weights, Sam thought as he eyed the man’s back, shoulder and arm muscles. He wasn’t gay, but he could appreciate a fine specimen of a man along with the best of them, and damn, this Jack must have been a hit with the ladies.

“Right Jacky boy, I’ll take the middle one and the one on the right. You take the one on the left. Just remember your boxing training. Keep your arms up, your face protected and make your jabs clean and quick. If nothing else, remember the five D’s of dodgeball!”

“The what…?” Jack looked puzzled.

To make sure Sam got the two they’d agreed upon, he called out, “Oi, you two shitestoppers, come at me ya wobbly headed pricks!”

Yep, that certainly got their attention as they turned towards him, they eyed his uniform, but they clearly felt confident with their being two of them. Sam took several steps away from Jack, both to give them more room to fight but also so that he could come at them from an angle. After all, the best way to fight two people at once is to put one in front of the other.

The one on the right was now closer, raising his hands into an amateur boxing stance, or at least a stance the man thought he should be holding. Sam readied himself, left foot forward. Most people are right-handed; therefore, most people will initiate an attack with their right arm and this man failed to disappoint. Despite his half decent stance, he threw a wide right hook. Sam countered by raising his left elbow, bringing his hand to his head, forcing the hook to glance off his arm, leaving the man’s centre undefended for his right arm to draw across his body in a textbook transfer of weight for his fist to slam into his opponent’s chin.

Most people in street fights aim for faces and noses, but the chin is where the real damage is done, you see, when the chin is damaged, signals are sent from the brain, shutting down the body. The man rocketed back, landing on his arse. Not quite a one hit knockout, but he wouldn’t be getting up for a few moments, that’s for sure.

The other man was slightly more interesting. He wasn’t fazed by his partner hitting the deck as he drew into a wrestling sugar stance. That might have worked out for him if Sam had any intention of grappling with him, but Sam wasn’t feeling particularly inclined towards rolling around in the mud. A feint to the left followed by a roundhouse kick to the side of his head sent him sprawling.

He glanced over at Jake’s fight to see him doing a ground and pound over his opponent who was desperately trying to wriggle free. His right eye looked like it would swell up soon but other than that he was unscathed. Jason kicked both his downed opponents in the head, knocking them unconscious. There was little fanfare over what happened next. Using the heel of his hard combat boots once more, he caved in another two skulls.

5 kills remain until ascension.

4 kills remain until ascension.

Sam felt tired. He watched as Jake stood over his opponent’s unconscious form and followed his lead, caving in the man’s skull. He didn’t even blink at the display. Less than 10 minutes ago he was sincerely doubting the use of violent action and here he was now, partnered with a guy who’d choked a woman to death in front of him, simply because she was weaker than him and that made her an easy target. It wasn’t the violence itself he fretted over, it was his lack of any emotional response. What did that make him? Someone who could stand by and watch someone who was unable to fight back get choked to death? But this isn’t a normal situation, he reminded himself. It’s not like he witnessed a mugging on the street, this was war, he told himself. A kill or be killed scenario, even if most people hadn’t willingly participated.

Jake stood up and locked at Sam, he just nodded in reply. Jake turned to the side and violently threw up.

“Easy there Jakey boy, take it slow. No one can sneak up on our position here, I’ll give you a minute whilst we pick a new target” Sam spoke as he took in the new state of the landscape around him.

As it happened, they were standing roughly where Sam had materialised, he knew that because he could see the corpse of the granny that the football hooligan had kicked to death. A dozen metres beyond her, he could see that boy’s body, or at least what looked like him. The height and build looked right, but he wasn’t about to start digging through bodies.

Jake stood and asked, “Who next?”

Sam pointed in a direction at a man that had just finished beating another man to death in a one to one fight. Yet, even as a victor, he looked close to death. Jake saw the target and just nodded in agreement and Sam told him he could have the kill since he got two from the last fight. Jake had been somewhat useful, fighting off three men at once would have been a pain and he didn’t want to give him any reason to turn on him.

They drew closer and the man saw them approach. He begged. He didn’t have the energy to stand anymore, never mind fight back and Sam saw doubt flicker across Jake’s face. He simply told him that if he didn’t kill the man, then he would. That seemed to be all the motivation he needed as Jake caved in yet one more skull. The pair began to walk to where they saw a large-ish cluster of people. A group of ten or so in a sort of standoff. Some in pairs, others in a trio, all facing towards one another.

Just as they were heading over, Sam caught movement out the corner of his eye, a woman he’d dismissed as a corpse suddenly lunged upwards, wrapping her arms around his legs and tackling him to the ground. Sam splashed backwards into the mud as she tried to clamber on top of him. Unfortunately for her she clearly didn’t have much of a plan beyond sending him to deck and he swivelled on the ground, forcing her into an arm bar and snapping her right arm. She howled in agony as she cradled her now useless arm. By that point Jake had come over and began stomping on her face. Damn, what sort of trend had he started?

By this point, all the people in the standoff up ahead were aware of their presence due to the woman’s scream.

“She’s dead.” Jake spoke, a queasiness evident in his voice. The pair of them stood in silence as they watched the large group ahead of them. Sam wondered what they were doing. He checked the other directions and saw various fights taking place between individuals, pairs and groups, nothing with fifty metres though. What to do? Decisions, decisions. A yank and snapping sounds, followed by a sickening crunch turned Sam back towards the large standoff once more.

“Hoooly shit” Sam drawled out. “That man is fucked up, see that Jakey boy? I’ve seen some wild shit but that really takes the biscuit.” Jake looked at where Sam was pointing. At the centre of the large group, a lanky, tall, pale man, drenched in blood had somehow managed to remove a femur from a body.

The large leg bone was cracked at the ends where it had been somehow snapped off. How did he even access it from inside someone’s leg? How did he reach such the bone which is buried so deep? If nothing else, Sam was intrigued as he sauntered forwards, Jake following close on his heel.

The large group split apart as the two of them entered their circle around the man holding the femur outwards, as if wielding a club or baseball bat. Everyone around them seemed to be in a sickened silence. Clearly, someone needed to break the ice and Sam was feeling like a polar bear,

“I just wanna go on the record and say that you need help dude, your ass belongs in an institution. Y’know, the ones with the padded walls?” Everyone turned to stare at him, even Jake raised an eyebrow in his direction. He’d forgotten his change in humour when he supressed his emotions, it had gotten him in trouble before.

“Aw c’mon, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

The crazed man screamed and charged at Sam, holding the leg bone above his head as he ran towards him. Sam rolled his eyes and dashed inside the overhead swing, catching the man’s swipe by the elbow to prevent the femur connecting with him. Wind milling his arm to grab his opponent by the wrist and tugging him gently towards him to keep him off balance, Sam rotated his body into a high kick, his heavy combat books connecting with the man’s face. Sam’s opponent stumbled backwards, dropping his makeshift weapon in the process as he looked stunned for a moment.

“Brah, I think the dudes on meth. Seen the type round my area before. It explains that wild look in his eyes, the fact he ain’t speaking and why he probably didn’t feel pain from your kick, he’s tripping balls. Probably thinks this is all some just some extra dodgy shit he bought”, Jack piped up from the side.

The other’s who’d been looking on from the side took involuntary steps back. Some looked at him with sympathy, others with disgust. Sam watched the man swaying on his feet. Poor bastard, he thought. He’d seen some veterans turn to meth, trying to escape PTSD and silently wondered what this fellas story was. Still, this place was kill or be killed. He’d have to end this and do it in a way that wouldn’t invite anyone to attack him from behind.

Sam approached in an MMA stance before throwing a test jab. The drugged-up man didn’t so much as respond as he flailed backwards and fell into a tall blonde man with curly hair. Mr Blondy obviously felt this was a chance for a free kill and threw a punch to the back of the man’s head. And then chaos ensued.

Everyone who’d been standing around watching the man on meth break a femur out of a corpse suddenly broke into action. Roughly a dozen men and woman, all trying to take the man’s life for their own and Sam was trapped in the middle of it. Damn it, he knew he should have avoided large groups, but his curious nature had gotten the better of him. Sam tried to path a rout to the edge of the brawl, this time, curiosity might really kill the cat. Without a weapon he had no way to end a life quickly. Deciding his life was more valuable than confirming the kill, Sam backpaddled and reached out for the dropped femur. He gripped a hand around one of the splintered ends as a burly Indian man, probably some form of tradesman by the looks of things charged like a bull towards him. Sam swiped upwards, almost as if the bone were a police baton. It caught the man under the nose and blood spurted out his face as he fell to his knees and screamed.

The femur cracked slightly from the pressure of the blow and some of the bone shards dug into the palm of his hands from his tight grip, but it was worth it. It offered him a brief respite to gain awareness of his surroundings. His back was safe, he now found himself at the edge of the brawl.

Jake was in the thick of it, exchanging heavy blows with some South American dude. A woman dug her nail extensions into a kneeling man’s eyes and another was kicking the back of a downed man’s head into the mud below.

Sam couldn’t allow the Indian man to rise to his feet. It was the same as with the Asian man before, no sense in letting someone become a threat once more. Despite all the scrapping people, no one else was currently bothering him and he had to take full advantage of the situation. He grabbed the Indian man’s long hair by the back of his head and smashed it into his awaiting knee. Once. Twice. His face was a bloody mess, he was missing teeth and now held a vacant gaze as his eyes partially lolled backwards. The third smash cracked the front of the man’s skull. Letting him drop into the mud, Sam used what he could only describe as his new signature move. Using the weight of his combat boot, he drove his heel down hard into the back of the man’s head.

3 kills remain until ascension.

He had to take advantage of the chaos. He charged his way through the brawl. Using his height to see a path through the rampage and his weight to barrel through anyone in his way, he aimed for those nearing the verge of death. In another time and place, one might look down on stealing another’s kill, but fuck that. This was every man for himself. He reached the man with one remaining eye who feebly held his arm between himself and the woman assaulting him. Sam rammed her aside. She flew a metre back and skidded in the mood, but he no longer had eyes on her.

Sam faced the kneeling man and delivered a Muay Thai front push kick. Against a standing opponent, this would knock their midsection, pushing them back with the purpose of creating some distance. However, against this kneeling man, it connected with the flat of his face, smashing him backwards into the mud. The last thing he saw was Sam’s combat boot coming down into his face.

2 kills remain until ascension.

The woman he’d knocked aside saw what he’d done and screamed at him,

“You bastard! Have some fucking decency!”, That made Sam smirk. Decency? In a bloodbath like this? Don’t be a fool, lady. He let her approach and waited for her to telegraph her attack. She had short arms, he only needed to lean backwards to move out of the fist’s range before he was able to counter. Sam stepped forward and performed a vicious knee stomp onto the leg she’d leaned forward on. He felt her knee buckle and snap under the weight of his boot as she screamed. The woman partially dropped, trying to right herself on her remaining leg as Sam brought the femur down in an overhead smash across the back of her skull.

Shed thudded down into the mud as Sam discarded the splintering bone. It was breaking up badly and he was confident he could use his appendages to more devastating effects. He’d only really wanted it to ensure it hadn’t ended up in someone else’s hands. Not that it could deal too much damage, but its ability to keep an opponent at length was just a pain in the arse.

Sam spun out of the way of a stray kick behind him and stomped down on the woman’s head. Another one bites the dust.

1 kill remains until ascension.

“Sam! Help!”, it was Jake. He looked like shit. His left eye was swollen shut and his body was turning a nasty shade of purple, completely visible, given that his t-shirt had been ripped off during the brawl. Of the original dozen, six still stood in the immediate vicinity, including Sam. The druggy man lay dead in the mud alongside thousands of others around them. There was Sam by himself, Jake, who was fending off attacks by a pair of South American men working together and another pair fighting, a man and a woman. She was easily holding her own in the exchange despite the size difference. If he were to take a guess, he’d wager she took kickboxing fitness classes at her local gym. She held a practiced stance, yet it was clear she wasn’t used to someone hitting back.

He moved forward to help Jack, but he was too slow. One of the men grabbed the body builder by the shoulders and yanked him forwards, meeting him with a sickening headbutt which took the fight out of Jake, sending him down onto his knees in the mud. The two men saw Sam crossing the distance and down at the three bodies he’d killed by himself in the last two minutes.

They turned and ran, smart enough to know when to pick their battles it appeared. To his right, he witnessed the woman deliver a finishing spinning back kick. Not something he’d have attempted in mud, but she pulled it off none the less and her opponent was down in the mud. She collapsed over him and began to ground and pound.

Sam looked down at Jake, groaning in agony from his injuries on the ground. With injuries like those at home, he’d easily spend a week in the hospital. He likely had fractured ribs and now that he looked closely, Sam could see the top of his ear was missing.

He was done. There was no way he’d be getting back up, never mind be able to fight again. Sam tried to convince himself that he cared for the man’s fate. If he’d met him a few days ago he would have. But now? He simply didn’t. He had one person left to kill and there was an injured man lying before him. Those were the facts and all that he cared about in that moment. He was just so done with this shit, he just wanted to go home. He hated how he could be this way, acting so callous, emotionless, empty.

To make it all seem laughable, from start to finish, it had probably been somewhere between twenty and twenty-five minutes. There was no way to know for sure. There was a tendency in combat to get caught up in the moment, time becoming meaningless. Yet still, what the fuck was this place? In less than half an hour it made his mental health go from improving, to worse than he ‘d ever felt.

Fuck whoever made this place, for ruining him. He just wanted to go home to try and salvage whatever semblance of normalcy was left. He clenched his fists in anger, he’d rather be damned and dead than give up that dream.

“Goodbye, Jakey boy.” Sam spoke softly under his breath before he knelt and choked the man before him. Jake just gurgled on the blood stuck in his throat in reply. He wanted to say it had been a good ride, a pleasure knowing him or just… something. But they’d all be lies. A minute passed, and he was greeted by the final message on this hellscape.

9 kills confirmed. Teleporting to second floor of the Pyramid of Blood.