The Lord of Rot

The mischievous strike that successfully landed from Konrad was strong, packed with most of the force that he could muster. But it made no impact on the metal-like skin of the man they called angel. 'Pugh, rather a devil than an angel.' 

The man had posed a strange question - why had Konrad been hitting the man? 

Was it because he hit him first? - was it because it was a battle? - was it because the people were cheering for them? None of these reasons made any sense. But he had to, right? 

"What do you mean? Of course I have to fight against you... We're pitted against each other, are you dumb?" 

"Maybe I am dumb" said Gabriel, almost mockingly. "But that doesn't change anything, I'm sick of it, I grew sick of it last night. The endless battles, repeating over and over, I'm sick of it honestly... And also, it never ends well - well, for everyone except myself." 

A piercing anger embellished in the bottom of his heart - his pride was struck. He wasn't that proud of himself, but Konrad didn't like the way he spoke casually, it was a matter of life and death. He had not fought with a man before, and from what he could tell the only difference between animals and humans were their intellect.

But he forgot one part. 

Humans could disregard their survival when it came to life and death. They could enter a battle nonchalantly for enjoyment. To see Gabriel in such a way, he could barely control his anger towards him. All the creatures he had seen before respected him with their anger - and he had grown used to it in the ninety and nine battles previous. 

'Damn!' 

"And its really inconvenient," continued Gabriel, looking oddly regretful, 'my ability, I call it that at least - well, I'll have to confess to something..." 

Gabriel laughed a bit as he told the next part...

"Whenever I win one of my battles, their body will convulse in a really disturbing way, I don't do anything other than stand there... but eventually, their bodies turn into, well... they turn into the creatures."

His heart sank as he heard it. 'Ability?' He thought first. But then he heard those words, 'Turn into?' First he felt terror, imagining himself as one of those things. Then he compared it to his own "ability", if that is what it was. 

It happened in a fraction of a second. But he continued speaking.

"Ah, really... Its a terrible system, you have to believe me. I don't know what happens to them, Konrad. But once they take their inmates and I kill them - their lifeless bodies are once again with life - they will then be taken - taken somewhere else - their soul is intact..." 

He felt a bit of vomit in his mouth, "Wh... where do they take them?" 

"I think you know," 

...

It wouldn't stop. The nausea was incomparable. 

"We don't have to fight, I take it we can just pretend to fight until they grow bored, and I've grown bored now too - so they will too! And I mean, us together, we can turn against them - I bet we could win, or at least we could die." 

Then he continued talking. Konrad couldn't even comprehend what he heard first.

"They're mere humans--I think so at least. This place is immune from the rot, I think so, they don't have any abilities like us, so I'm guessing there are places on the map where the rot isn't as strong, but I don't know where..." 

He just kept talking - like some mad intellectual trying to converse his findings. Konrad wasn't a smart person, he could have been if his studies weren't solely the Doctrine. 

"Escape...?" asked Konrad, his mind slowly blanking, his world slowly shattering, his mind slowly breaking... 

"Yes, escape... We'll take there... And we'll do this... And we'll do this..." All of the word strung together in his mouth became incomprehensible. His plan to escape--it would have worked. 

But... 

'Could I...' 

...

...

... 

With his eyes blank, pale with unknowable agony. His mind fixated on the sheer number of mutilated and shrieking humans he had torn apart with his hands. He laughed, he trembled, he cried. He did all of that within a second, within his mind. 

'I couldn't...' 

Gabriel - a man who is powerful, adored for his strength in the underground arena, someone who is given benefits for his sheer abilities. Born to be a leader, born to be above others. He is intellectual, and far too trusting. 

...

Gabriel, who trusted far too much had gotten close whilst explaining the situation. The how-to of their escape. And Konrad, who stared blankly as he drew shapes on the sand on the ground - a maddened roar of the public in the background demanding blood.

Luckily for the audience, this was too be granted...

Konrad struck with his hand straight through the stomach region of the distracted and far stronger individual. His warm blood dripping down his arm. 

The skin was rough, but distracted he could pierce the mushier parts of the body with all his strength. 

It had gotten through his body, and began to convulse and contort the flesh around inside of him...

...

"What?" said Gabriel, looking down towards the hand, "Didn't expect that..." 

Then beneath his breath, Konrad put together a string of words, something that wasn't supposed to mean much, but he said: "No one escapes from fate..." 

Gabriel blew up. All the pieces of his strong and well managed body. His well fed stomach. His smart brain. His functioning muscles. All the parts of him split into a hundred, or even a thousand different pieces.

The crowd cheered like there had never been such a spectacle in their underground arena - and for all he knew, there hadn't been. 

His blood dripped on the face of Konrad, and he heard the voice resounding inside his head. 

[ You have cleansed another rotting soul... ]

[ You have achieved a goal of Aphaim... ] 

[ You prepare for tragedy... ] 

'What...?'

Slowly, he drifted away...