《Playing Games of Despair》Chapter 16: The Meat Pile (1)
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The Challenger was supposed to be a floating island paradise. It was a cruise ship with hundreds of crew members, waiting on the hands and feet of the moneyed elite who had obtained tickets to travel across the world with the fighters of God’s Tournament and watch the Tournament live.
At the same time, it was a floating lawless society. Away from the watchful eyes of governance under the four countries, in international waters, crime ran afoot. Gambling in the casinos. Fights sponsored by the underground betting network. Murder in the cabin. And now… attack by panthers.
The Tehari panthers were what stood between the four young fighters—two cowering behind an overturned table without weapons and one comatose in a drawer—and freedom. Freedom through the grey metal door onto the corridor.
Gilgamesh wiped the sweat from his brow. “Any bright ideas on how we’re getting out of here?”
A rustling sound came over the speakers. There was a security intercom setup in the mortuary.
“Well well well… Today is my lucky day! I get to kill two Celtians... and a Xin as a bonus,” a voice came over the intercom. It cackled away, laced with gleeful malice. “I am going to be a hero for this. Glory, come to me!”
Realisation immediately dawned on Dart. It was a set-up. Someone had been watching from the security cameras. That very same someone had planned the attack by the panthers—and the targets were fighters. He looked at Gilgamesh. From the way the attacker had identified his targets as Celtians, and his accent… he had to be from Vinlan Corp!
Gilgamesh had also pieced together the revelation. “There are going to be consequences for killing tournament fighters from other countries.”
“Haha! Accidents on ships are common. There will be no proof when I’m done with you all,” the voice cackled menacingly.
“Or you could get caught, and start another war with Celtia,” Gilgamesh responded smoothly. “Don’t be patronising! We’re the most important people on the planet right now. Stop this madness!”
“Why don’t you face us yourself, huh?” Dart growled angrily. The faceless voice was getting on his nerves. He sounded mad for power. A typical politician.
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Gilgamesh facepalmed, shaking his head. Well, there goes our chance to negotiate for our lives.
“Haha! You’re way too arrogant, for someone who choked at the elimination round,” Minister Glover laughed into the microphone. This was going to be fun to watch! “Celtia’s best, they’ve been calling you…” he said, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see what you’re made of!”
“Anyway, enough chatter. Kill them all, my…” the speakers boomed.
His last words could not be heard.
Bang! The grey metal door to the mortuary slammed open.
“RUN!” A stranger yelled.
A grenade flew into the room. The panthers scattered in alarm. Smoke immediately filled the mortuary.
Without skipping a beat, Gilgamesh saw his opening in the confusion and tore off for the open door.
Krystal hesitated. My brother…
Dart, coughing wildly, retrieved his knife from the corner of the room. He turned and yelled at Krystal to get a move on. “Your brother is safe here! Let’s go!”
Gilgamesh yelled, “He doesn’t know about Ming. Run!”
Watching from inside the observation room, Minister Glover was just as shell-shocked at the sudden turn of events. Who had thrown that grenade? The smoke marred the security cameras in the mortuary, and his vision was essentially blocked.
“Chase them, you dumb cats!” He instructed his panthers over the intercom, which were lost without their sense of smell.
Following Gilgamesh down the corridor of the basement floor, Dart and Krystal came upon the cargo hold area. Whoever had thrown that grenade had likely also made a run for it, because they were nowhere to be seen. The three were on their own.
“We need to hide!” Dart urgently looked around for a hiding place.
“They can sniff us out,”” Krystal pointed out.
Dart had spotted a promising prospect in a sign up ahead. “I have a plan!” he shouted, waving over at Gilgamesh and Krystal. The sign read ‘Food Storage’.
Gilgamesh ran over. “You genius!”
“See, I told you the corpses are kept cold in the mortuary before cooking!” Dart grinned mischievously.
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“I… take that back,” Gilgamesh muttered.
The entire cold storage was a giant walk-in warehouse with fresh fruit, vegetables, and meat to feed an entire cruise ship for months. The trio wandered through the rows of bags of rice and wheat, then crates of oranges and pineapples, and baskets of spices like dried chilli peppers, turmeric and black peppercorns. Dart was amazed at the variety of mushrooms happily growing from woodchip blocks; some were so oddly shaped that he was not fully convinced that they were edible. Gilgamesh stuck his head into one of the barrels out of curiosity. “Pickles,” he muttered.
Finally, they followed their noses and stopped in their tracks. The sight before them was just as bloody as the murdered girl’s room. Hunks of meat, sausage links and even whole carcasses hung from the ceiling racks. Piles of prime cuts, steaks, and chops were stacked up on shelves. Buckets of offals, organs and entrails sat next to piles of bones. The floor was slippery with dried and re-dried blood, and slick with cuttings of meat. Krystal pinched her nose silently in disgust.
From somewhere behind the butchery, the fighters could hear the sounds of goats bleating and the rustling of feathers. The live brothers and sisters of the dead animals stored here were not too far away. Right outside the door leading to the cargo hold of live animals were vats of blood where the slaughter took place. Next to it were an industrial-sized meat grinder, and a huge meat slicing machine. The entire operation was connected to the hanging racks.
The butchery was the perfect hiding place. It already smelled of death.
“You think you can hide?” the loudspeakers sounded. The fighters jumped in shock. They were still being watched! Wherever he was, the Minister was watching from safety behind the security camera. Dart’s stomach churned with anger. Coward!
***
The panthers were scratching at the metal door at the far end of the cold storage. It was only a matter of time before they managed to get in. The three would have to think fast, or their hiding place would become their death trap.
“How does the food here get from the basement to the restaurants…” Gilgamesh wondered out loud.
“You mean this?” Dart gestured towards the metal grated dumbwaiter that was at the top of a hollow vertical shaft. It was operated by an automatic chain pulley. Dart could hear voices coming from the top of the shaft; it probably opened up into the main commercial kitchen for food preparation.
Gilgamesh was way ahead. “That’s our ticket out of here!” Gilgamesh cried, pressing the button frantically to call the elevator down.
Krystal turned away from the dumbwaiter and bluntly stated that she wasn’t going. “My brother is still on this floor.”
“Are you seriously suggesting that we fight those things?” Gilgamesh was incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding me… He’s in the walls listening and watching our every move...”
“Well, we have no other options. We are fighting,” Dart was firm. “Besides, didn’t you say that you liked helping people?”
Gilgamesh reluctantly admitted, “I did...”
“Fine. But first, we need a plan,” he looked around. His eyes settled on Krystal as he scanned his surroundings. She was a stunning beauty with her hair held in a twist with a sharp metal hairpin. Even in this time of danger, her lips settled in a bored expression. How attractive.
Gilgamesh leaned forward and slammed the wall behind Krystal with one hand, almost pinning her. He looked into Krystal’s eyes deeply, a gaze that filled the air with electric tension. With his other hand, he reached out and slid the hairpin out of Krystal’s hair. Her blonde locks fell to her shoulders in cascading waves.
With a flick of his wrist, Gilgamesh aimed the pin at the camera mounted on the corner of the wall behind Krystal. Bullseye! The glass shattered and the lens cracked.
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Congratulations, You're Dead!
*Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* "Uh, whatcha doing there System-chan?" *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* "You know they can't understand you right?" *Ding* "No need to get rude. Fine, I'll leave you alone to do the synopis." *Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding*. "Well, you heard the lady, go read it."
8 191To Build An Empire
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8 154Dauntless: Origins
Snow white hair, blue eyes, pale. Devil, monster, mutt, failure.This story follows one Tyr Faeron, crown prince, heir primus and mass murderer. A wrathful, angry, and lost young man that has made it his goal to hunt down the men that killed his mother - and he is on the cusp of finishing the promise he'd made before her cairn stones so many years ago. On the surface he is duplicitous, whimsical, and base of cunning - but within the depths beyond the many masks he wears, something is waiting. Waiting for an end, the end he'd come to long for, whether it be to himself or any possible threats in his vicinity. After that long labor of vengeance is completed... Nobody knows, not even him - an arrogant and otherwise solitary individual with nothing in the way of friends - only the brothers of the blackguard who follow him through life as he pursues this mission. He was born a prince, but he'd be called a disappointment - failing to manifest the great power that he was born to before being summarily discarded by his father, a 250 year old 'primus'. That word again... Men who can shatter mountains and level cities, that's what he was supposed to be. Some call them demi-gods, all Tyr sees is a poor excuse for a parent. Time had made him bitter, cruel, and arguably psychotic - seeing only enemies wherever he looks. They'd come for him, too, one day - to wipe the slate clean and make room for another - and it's his conviction to ensure that he dies while taking as many of those rats with him. This is a story about finding acceptance, growth, and understanding - from the point of view of a cold and brutal individual who wears many masks. Of someone who was born to be the greatest emperor the eastern continent has ever seen - but he failed in that. Strong, yes, but only in the context of a man - Tyr's magic is weak. His convictions are weak. He has been made a beast of instinct by loss and a constant confronting of his own impotency in the face of his father. A mythos that stretches across planes, of magic, a pantheon of cruel gods. Of someone who's dedicated his entire mind to the art of killing a man, and none to living a normal childhood or coming to understand friendship, empathy, or compassion. The first five years of his life a mystery, a hole none have ever been willing to fill, leaving him warped and twisted. His formative years gone and what must've been most of his humanity along with it. Now 17, he is on the cusp of leaving the city he'd never been permitted to leave for what might be the first time in his life. Always searching, though he won't know what for, for some time. An episodic that follows experience and symbolism rather than a never ending series of battles - where the conflict lay in constantly searching for wholeness in lieu of great villains or heroes. This is where it all started, the origin, the tale told a million times - and yet it hadn't been, 'reality' is tricky like that. The greatest lie ever told by the tongue that speaks is that any of this was real at all.
8 248Hand of the Goddess
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8 233Tale of the mage hero [Completed]
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8 134Abducted by an Alien
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