Douchbag craved his knife straight into my right hand, nailing it to the ground beneath, the brilliance dying right after the tool's tip pierced the metal that the floor was made of, and welding itself with it; Asshole did the same with my left and burned hand.

Concentrating as much as I could, giving all I had to the pain control app, feeling my brain getting hotter and hotter from it, and, yet, failing to relieve the sensation more than just a little bit, feeling more like I had, instead of burned my arm to carbonization and had both hands penetrated by two knives... burned my left hand to the third degree and saw myself crucified with nails...

“Did you really thought you could just fuck with me and get away with it?”, Douchebag grabbed my right leg, tacking off my boot, while seated on my left limb. I was screaming as loud as I could, all the pain, from the burn, from the knives, hitting me at once, tears blocking my vision, distorting it. Douchebag, my naked foot in hand, started, first taking off my nails, then skinning the foot. “...Pathetic”, commented when seeing my pants getting wet, my body twitching in indescribable agony.

“Fuck, shouldn’t we just kill him already? He’s making so much noise!”, complained Asshole, looking thru the ship piercer sniper scope and keeping guard, occasionally shooting.

“Don’t be a bitch now, 89”, replied Douchbag, letting my right foot go; all red, devoid of any skin and dripping blood, a scarlet pool forming rapidly, the fire extinguishers just don’t work in that corridor; Douchebag had kept it in place with a powerful grip. Starting to take my left boot and sock off and doing the same thing with my other foot, continued: “no one will come here to save him anyway, because no one gives a shit”.

“It’s not about this: of course no one will try to save him, but someone can see this as an opportunity to blow three guys at once, including us, the fifth and sixth place, at once”, answered Asshole, laughing after another shot. “He’s giving our position out”

“Oh, you’re right; and here was I thinking that I was the brain… it must be all this massacre, I feel something had woken up inside me, man!”, I had no idea how I could, still, comprehend then so well; maybe because of all the pain I suffered during my training.

“No, you were always like this, man...”

“Let’s just shut his mouth with his socks then”, Douchebag took the cloth and approached my face, stopping just before stick it into my mouth, when commented, smiling: “Hey, 46, you know, if you beg for your life, if you say you sorry and tell us how pathetic you are, we can let you live, you know? Well, at least to the end, when we will, mercifully, kill you”

“...And, then, will the lovers commit double suicide?” I answered, the words mere faintly blown thru my chattering teeth, frowning my eyebrows and smiling. It was a meaningless provocation, a resistance of the week, but I could find pleasure in how Douchebag seemed to hate it.

“Don’t fall for dumb defiance now, man...” advised Asshole, turning the sniper in a 360 while searching for enemies getting closer.

“I know” replied Douchebag without taking the eyes from me. Reaching to my left and burned arm, grabbing it hard, the carbonized black flesh cracking loudly under his grip, he continued: “you really must think highly of yourself, hu? To be this challenging even here...”

“Go suck your boyfriend’s dick!” my mind filled with suffering couldn’t think in a better insult.

“...I ask myself: is your sister this gritty?”, Douchebag smiled when my tough faced shattered in stupid stupor and despair. “Oh, no, don’t worry, we won’t kill her, no matter who of us win! Right, 89?”

“Of course, she’s too hot to just throw her away after all”, he shot again.

“Yeah, yeah, so, 46, see, you can just die in peace! We will do like you wished and save your sister! ...Of course, once that she will have a debt way more expansive than she can ever afford to pay, she will turn into our slave, but, you know: details”, Douchebag was peeling the blackened skin from my hand, bark by bark, showing off the roasted brow skin beneath it, and facing me close, right in the eyes. “Oh, yeah, fuck, she’s all fucked up right now, right? So, maybe, instead of my private sex slave I should turn her into a hook so she can pay her debt with time?” His eyes and smile widening, his face gating closer, he continued, visibly delighting with the painting of horror that my face must have turned into. “No, even like this, she won’t make not near enough money. Maybe if we rent her for those sadistic guys who like to torture people? If I use part of the profit to keep her healthy and make her live long enough, she can give back my money then? Oh, no, even better! When she gets close to repay me, I sell her organs!”

At the same time Douchebag described his plans, images of it happening right before my eyes crossed my mind, as real as if happening right at that moment; his words dug into my brain and, added to the physical pain it was being inflicted on me, they turned into my true, a world even darker than the one I had being living until now- no, it was the same world, it wasn’t something out of the ordinary, something unthinkable, impossible to happen, and while it hurt more than any death I had ever suffered just by listening to those filthy words coming from Douchebag’s mouth, it was what could come to happen if those guys won the Tournament.

“No, better! Sell just her limbs, her legs, arms, eyes, tongue, vocal cords, ears and nose, and the right parts of her brain, so no pleasure can ever reach her consciousness ever again!” Asshole had said that they were in the sixth and fifth place of the Tournament. “Keep her as a pet!” They had probably the best weapon of the game then too. “No! What an idiot I’m! I should tie her to a wall, impeding her from even crawl aroun-!”

“GRAAA!” I shouted, shutting Douchebag’s mouth with a punch straight at his neck, freeing my right hand from the knife with brute force, just lifting it from the ground, forcing my hand all the way up, widening the hole in it, almost splitting it in to two halves when pushing it against the tool cable.

“Fuck, what?!”, Asshole turned around while I was taking the knife craved into my left hand and lifting myself at the tip of my feet, almost making a bridge.

Douchebag tried to scream in pain, but only blood came out of his mouth; I, blade in my right hand, stepped close, moved the knife wit all my might to the side, thru his abdomen, and threw the blade at Asshole’s right shoulder. The laser that came out of the enormous precision rifle made it’s path all the way thru the ceiling, melted metal raining above me and my enemies, the drops bouncing on our skin.

Turning once again to Douochebag and his figure screaming while trying, uselessly, to keep his entrails inside, I kicked him right on the chin sending his body an entire meter high, throwing my hand into his open wound and, with gravity helping, forcing it all the way up, feeling my fingers messing his smooth, hot interiors, going under the ribs, deforming his throat and coming out of his mouth in an explosion of blood, the red liquid dripping, the then toothless gums aside, from the nose too, his eyes wide open and crying.

“You don’t deserve to even talk about her!”, I shouted, moving my legs and turning my fist down, throwing it and the scum attached to it to the ground; the top of Douchebag’s head being the first part of his body to touch the floor, it opened and it’s content splashed like a watermelon hit by a hammer, brain matter and skull fragments flying all around and filling my fist when I tore off his jaw and freed my hand from it’s falling, limp dead body.

“Go- Go away!”, shouted an Asshole leaned against the wall, veins visibly throbbing from left arm to the same side of his neck, his face all red, teeth clenched, making an incredible effort to maintain the giant sniper aiming at me and lifted.

I pushed myself ahead, my all red feet letting blood footprints behind; just when I was right before his barrel, Asshole pushing the trigger.

Rather the jump aside or try to dodge, burning an even bigger part of my body, I closed my left hand into a fist and threw it against the enemy’s weapon, punching it to the side and seeing the bullet destroy a wall behind, revealing an already massive wildfire, and my already burned limb becoming a complete piece of coal, to its bones this time, the heat so intense that I wasn’t even feeling the pain on the arm anymore, as if everything from the shoulder bellow had just vanished.

Asshole dropped the giant precision rifle and reached for the knife craved at his flesh, retreating, transpiring fear. But I hadn’t ended yet: giving one more step forward, putting my head in parallel with his own, I pushed my petrified left fist against his face. My fingers snapped, cracked open and were pulverized in black dust, as well as my hand and pulse, the carbonized limb being undone on his confused face like a sandcastle, but I kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, shouting my lungs out, frowning my eyebrows until they were touching one another, clenching my teeth until blood came out of my gums. Then, when I had already destroyed half of my more than just burned arm, I finally felt resistance and, with the last effort, I pressed my broken radius and ulna to his soft flash and thru it, and when they split against the skull, each one to one side, they found their way thru the eye sockets and to the brain behind it. Asshole had his movements stopped with the knife just a centimeter from my neck, when all his limbs and body fell, like a rag doll, to the ground, my sharpened bones coming out of his head slowly.

Gasping, I stood there, looking to both corpses, blood timidly starting to come out of my left shoulder and involving the limb of the same side, while my feet were already making another pound beneath them, my heart still beating too fast, my anger still not satiated.

“How many left?” I asked myself looking up, thru the hole made by the precision rifle at the ceiling and to the giant screen above. “Hu?”, my head cooled, my rage vanished while I stared, for who know hows long, to the info at the board.

Soon, a 3d map of the ship appeared to me, informing that the arena’s area was getting closer again, and that the only allowed place to be in a few minutes would be the top of the tower at the center of the ship.

I would shrug, if my body wasn’t killing me, the pain reaching unimaginable levels; and, this time, I won't respawn. But I didn’t care, I had even just collected a secret weapon, no, a remedy just in case, and hide it in a convenient place that I could reach even if I got immobilized again. I just turn my back to the fire and started to walk, quietly, to the appointed spot.

Since I noticed that there was, already, just two competitors left, me and the previous winner.