View Full Version : Kyra (Kyra) VS Crankuba (John Doe): TIE

01-07-2013, 08:55 PM
John 'Something Fierce' Doe - Excels in speed and agility. Metallic bracer: Grappling hook and able to release smoke bombs. Voice activated. (http://forums.stickpage.com/showthread.php?43850-The-Defiler-August-Pine)

Kyra - Possessed by malevolent demon, Telekinesis, and blue energy orbs (http://forums.stickpage.com/showthread.php?43368-wRHG-Character-Profile-Kyra)


- Kyra's Entry -


"Why do you need me to do this again?” Kyra questioned timidly, the coarse palm of an RHG corporation operative pushing against her back to coax her forward. Her feet scuffed against the ground in a mild form of struggle, which caused a small amount of frustration to leak out from the man’s lips.
“We cannot perform any tests without a control model to base your results off of. If you want us to help you find a way to control the beast-”

“Demon.” Kyra unexpectedly interjected, her feet gripping the floor which in turn stopped the duo as they pressed firmly against the white tiles.

“What?” The pawn inquired in an agitated voice. The look in his eye caused Kyra’s self-assurance in her next few words to dwindle rapidly.

“It…likes to be called a demon.” She stammered, drawing her arms close to her body as if expected to be hit. But no such penalty came. The employee only rolled his eyes and pressed on her back harder, causing her to gasp as she lurched forward the first few steps before salvaging what little she had of her poor balance.

“Can you at least tell me who I’m going to have to fight? Is the person a bad person?” Kyra innocently queried, unable to turn her head around to face the man once an answer came to his mind. “He’ll be bad for you if he sees you.”

Kyra trembled in place, a soft grunt escaping the worker’s lips as he was forced to stop with her again. “Wh-What did I do to him? D-Do I know him?” She questioned desperately, almost on the brink of tears. Although Abaddon had killed hundreds of people at this point, she still felt personally responsible for each death. The room grew pregnant with the silence until the scuffing of Kyra’s feet broke it and the employee replied. “Oh yes, you know him. You killed someone very close to him, and almost killed another. Both were like family to him. He’s quite upset at what you’ve done, and I quote, ‘You had better tell it to keep its distance, because if I find it, I won’t wait for the arena. I’ll send it home to burn forever on the spot.’.”

A small grin came over the man’s face as Kyra freed several mewling whimpers from her throat, in fright and remorse. She and Abaddon had most likely ruined this man’s life, and another thing, the man wouldn’t even address Kyra as a female. He had quoted with ‘it’, never ‘she’ or ‘her’. He only acknowledged her demon half. For all she knew, he may have only seen Abaddon. He may not even give her a chance if she tried to beg for forgiveness.

“C-Can I at least know his name?” Kyra strained through her tightening throat, a stray tear falling from her cheek. One of the many that followed after it that displayed all the shame she had for her lack of self-control, all the fear she had for the future of who she cared about, and all of the fury of her inability to live in peace. However, nothing could prepare her for the answer that followed from the man’s cruel and obviously amused voice. “They didn’t tell you?” Kyra shook her head, but starting to regret asking about it in the first place the minute the staff member pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to the one eyed fighter. She took it with a shaky hand and unfolded the top. She only had to pull it out two inches or so before time had seemingly stopped.

Kyra's heart exploded, her lungs collapsed, and the world split down its seam and spiraled into the black hole at the center of the Milky Way. Or at least that's what it felt like. There was no color in Kyra’s skin, her pupils were so small it was like there was nothing but white in her eyes. What one could have confused for sweat were just tears pouring profusely down her cheeks, collecting on the bottom of her chin before steadily dripping onto the ground.

“I-It…I-It c-can’t be him…” Kyra tried to whisper to herself between sobs. “I-I-It can’t b-be him! He w…wouldn’t d-do this!”

“Well, he did sweetheart. So I suggest you get over it and get ready to fight. We’re not helping you unless you run this control test.” The employee replied coldly, shoving Kyra forward to get her moving. However, the action only knocked her to the floor, where she continued to weep. Although she was no longer able to see her opponent’s profile anymore, she could still feel it burning in the back of her mind. Even with her eyes closed, the picture of his dark brown hair and those kindly stonewashed green eyes were still ever present in her skull, and right beside that picture, where she had seen his name. The four words that confirmed her every horror and worst possible thoughts, that brought her to her knees in devastation, four words that made up the man she would never see again if her fears became a reality.

‘John ‘Something Fierce’ Doe.’

Nothing could be worse than this...]

- wRHG Stickpage Battle #1 vs John 'Something Fierce' Doe -

She no longer minded the employee behind her gripping her arm like a stress ball, hauling her to her feet. She didn’t care that he pushed against her back, every motion showing his frustration and dislike for her. She no longer cared about the massive crowd of people that sat in the stands of the glass dome arena. The dirt beneath her kicked up a few puffs of dust given that she was no longer guided by a stiff arm. She took several steps towards the center, but did not dare advance any further when seeing the familiar young man on the other end of the arena. The sun’s rays beat down on the see-through roof and magnified the heat in the arena, the near blistering temperatures causing sweat to drip from Kyra’s brow, blending in with her tears at the sight of her clan-mate, her former ‘brother’.

However, because Kyra refused to lay eyes on him, she couldn’t see the look of horror and shock on John’s face once he spotted his ‘sister’ standing before him. Whom he had gratefully accepted to battle and kill. He stood motionless for half a minute, making the crowd anxious as they screamed for blood, the demon’s blood. Suddenly filled with rage, he turned back to the shut gate in which he had entered. “You didn’t tell me it was her!” He roared above the chanting of the crowd.

“Kill the de-mon! Kill the de-mon!” As well as dozens of other shouts from the crowd were blended into an array of harsh and cold sounds, all striking the telekinetic fighter like a shotgun to the chest.

John slammed his fists on the door and strained his vocal chords as he shouted several more threats, a few swears strung between his words as waves of applauses and catcalls washed over him, his voice lost in the chaos. Even from where she was standing, Kyra was unable to hear him over the sound of the ‘boos’ and hisses being spat towards her like venom into her blood stream. At last, everything began to settle in Kyra’s mind. The initial shock was over, and reality had set in. At last the telepath broke down into sobs, weeping to herself as she brought her hands over her face to block the food items and other pieces of trash being thrown at her. Whilst Kyra was enduring the emotional and physical oppression, John had begun to pace towards her. He held out his arms, as if open for a comforting embrace, but Kyra, who managed to bring her eyes to John’s for half a second, grabbed his bracer arm and placed his palm on her chest.

“Kyra?” The young man questioned to his younger leader, going to wipe a tear from Kyra’s face, but being stopped by her free hand. She was unable to speak for several moments, too choked up from her weeps. After a while of waiting for it to subside, Kyra gave up and spoke in broken up, blubbered sentences in hopes of being understood as the audience grew impatient and the noise level in the stadium dropped slightly.

“You don’t have to lie anymore, John. They told me everything. How you hate Abaddon and me for killing Damon. How you wanted ‘us’ to burn forever-”

“Kyra! I didn’t mean that!” John retorted frantically, feeling just as broken as Kyra when seeing her this distressed. “They didn’t tell me it was you!”

“Stop lying and say it!” Kyra screamed, finally staring John in the eyes, one glimmering line of tears going down her eye, and another that formed beneath her mask and dripped down her chin and neck. She leaned into John’s hand, pressing it harder against her right chest cavity, where her heart was.

“Just say ‘Fire’.”

She was utterly and truly devastated, and it was his fault. He shook his head and tried to fight her grip, unable to pull his arm away despite how feeble her appearance made her look. “Kyra, no! I’m not going to say it, I’m not going to hurt you!” He replied desperately, the pained look in Kyra’s eyes remaining despite his words. “You don’t have to lie anymore, I know you hate me. You know everyone is better off without me.”

“Kyra. Stop it!” Kyra flinched when hearing John’s volume rise suddenly in an attempt to regain her attention. “I’m going to get us out of here. We are NOT fighting each other.”

“We have to, John.”

Kyra’s voice became unusually calm and the sobbing subsided for the most part, she watched as John gave her a blank look in confusion. He looked from the crowd and back to her before questioning. “Why?”

“Because if you don’t kill me. It’s going to kill you.”

Although John had never personally witnessed Abaddon nor seen the damage it could cause, he knew that in the tone Kyra was talking upon mentioning the demon, this wasn’t to be taken lightly. Kyra could faintly hear the sound of John inhaling, reaching out and loosening Kyra’s grip on his arm before lowering it back to his side. Once it was time to let out his breath, he used the air to form one last sentence. “I’m not going to fight you, Kyra.”

Kyra felt a wave of pain shoot up her spine almost instantaneously, the entire stadium was at a stand-still as she twitched and had to physically take a step back in order to regain her balance from the shock. Her eyes widened as she lost control of her lips, they formed a despicable smile beneath Kyra’s horrified gaze. The deep voice sent a violent tremor down John’s spine, as the near inhuman speech escaped from Kyra’s lips.

“And so, you will die.”

The audience suddenly sprung back to life, the roar of the crowd threatened to wash over Abaddon’s own as she blinked and a wave of cyan light flew from her unmasked eye and crashed into John’s face, temporarily blinding him as the demon stole ten feet in front of John and lashed her right arm towards him. The initial shock of Kyra’s change still lingered in John’s mind, so his reaction was sluggish but frantic. He ducked underneath the arm and fell to the ground when he lost his balance, scuffing the dirt with his feet as he kicked himself a few feet back from Abaddon. The demon grinned and brought her hand from her face to the ground, removing her worn skin-colored mask before tossing it to the floor. It shattered upon impact with the ground and revealed the demon’s hideous scar. Another round of sounds from the crowd filled the stadium as John wildly clawed at the ground, feeling an invisible force tug against his leg and pulling him closer to his former friend. He tried shifting his weight around whilst being dragged as he felt several handfuls of the terrain beneath him crawl into his pant legs and under his fingernails.

“You squirm like a helpless blind worm, it’s quite amusing.” Abaddon cooed, abruptly balling her hand up into a fist as something in John’s ankle was warped in a very violent way. “Go ahead and scream. It’s not like you’ll look any more stupid given who you decided to battle today.”

Abaddon could almost hear the sound of John grinding his teeth as the slightly dull, but powerful pain throbbed in his right ankle, pulsing throughout his entire foot at the pace of his heartbeat. He could feel a pressure against his neck, slowly pushing him off the ground and straightening his back until he was standing up straight and dangling about two inches in the air. He kicked his legs in a desperate attempt to get down, and his plea was answered. His feet came in contact with the floor once again, causing him to stumble forward to regain his balance from the surprise.

“Hit me.”

John didn’t want to talk to this spawn inside of Kyra, he merely gave it a confused look. For such a boastful and powerful demon, that seemed very unlike her. Before he was given a chance to think over it, he felt a fist slam into his gut, knocking him back a foot. He used his back leg to catch himself only a few degrees from falling over onto his back. He straightened himself to see Abaddon’s arm extended out where he was once standing, a wicked grin stretched across her face.

“Go on…hit me.”

John immediately saw where this was going, and swore to himself. He’d never forgive himself if he had to hurt Kyra, but at the same time, she’d never forgive herself if she ever hurt him. Either way, someone was going to have to fight to get out of this. It was either going to be him, or her.

What do I do?

“Kuhf-” John felt another invisible blow strike his lower abdomen, he dug his feet into the dirt to hold his ground, but upon impact, the strike skidded his entire body about two feet back before he fell to a knee to try and catch his breath. He coughed twice, allowing his lungs to realign themselves back with the rhythm of his diaphragm, oxygen returned to him once more.

“You take too long.” Abaddon replied in an almost modulated fashion, but in a very expressible and bored manner. However, life and lust sprung back into the demon’s voice after she spoke again. “So I’ll go first.”

John could feel the immediate sensation of a harsh warmth nearing his body. A cold hand gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward, disorienting the braced fighter as his head whipped back before flying forward again. He shivered at the sound of Abaddon’s heavy breathing, he could feel the warmth growing more persistent when Abaddon’s right hand drew closer as a crackling sound burst through the air and rattled in John’s ears. Immediately knowing what was to come in a few seconds, John threw his left leg out towards Abaddon’s body, slamming the tip of his shoe against the demon’s stomach. The shock of the blow caused the energy ball floating in the demon’s hand to dissipate almost instantly.

“Kah!” Abaddon released her grip on the human as she pulled her hands towards her gut, gasping for air and letting out a hate filled snarl once regaining her breath.

“Come on, Kyra. You can fight it!” The demon heard John shouting as he jumped to the right to avoid Abaddon charging towards him. He caved into Abaddon’s wishes at last, activating his bracer and watching the extravagant designs carved around the weapon glow a faded white, indicating it was ready to use.


A vehement ‘Schhhh!’ sound could be heard as a small gray ball flew from John’s bracer and exploded into a massive cloud of smoke the second it hit the floor, mild toxins filling the lungs of both fighters. Through Abaddon’s muffled hacks, John, being more used to the smolder, continued to speak. “You can fight it, Kyra. You’re one of the strongest people I know!” She could see John whirl around at the sound of her snarl covered up by violent coughs. But given the demon’s bright blue eyes were throwing light though the fog, she couldn’t have given him a better target to aim for. As John began closing in on the demon however, Abaddon spotted his silhouette through the thick fumes. The demonic woman lunged at John, catching him off guard once he was pinned to the ground by two pale hands. Added weight was pressed onto his wrists by a telekinetic force.

“She’s only strong because of ME!” The demon bellowed, scowling with her sharp white teeth. With one of her arms, she moved it off of John’s wrist, transitioning the hand up his arm until she stopped at his elbow. “And now I will make you weak!”

There was a massive flash of pain, John twisted in agony, fighting Abaddon’s telekinetic grip as the bleeding sinews deep in his shoulder shattered, muscle and bone began to fragment and breakdown. The stream of blood seeping from the tears in his skin turned from dripping to trickling, and trickling to pouring. Abaddon howled with laughter and proudly tore off the last bloody strands of muscle fibers linking John’s shoulder to the rest of his arm. His blood slopped onto the sand and caked Abaddon’s shirt as she held the limb to John’s horrified face before raising it high above her head for the crowd to see, beholding her new gore stained trophy. The demon took in the crowd’s taunts and screams in revulsion with a wicked grin, eventually hurling the human’s appendage back down to the earth and away from John, who was still screaming in anguish.

“What’s the matter, John?” Abaddon questioned lightly, kneeling down beside the trembling fighter, still clinging to the massive hole in his shoulder. His eyes were locked on the blood collecting in his remaining palm, his pupils shrank in terror. He quivered viciously as he could no longer keep himself on his knees and fell over onto his side from the shock. In an instant, John’s head turned in Abaddon’s direction, forcing him to stare the beast down eye to eye as the demon ran a soft fleshy finger underneath the mortal’s pastel chin.

“You’re as pale as death…it’s just your ‘sister’, Kyra…”

The human was relying on nothing but his instincts now, all of the noises around him were distorted and muffled, his vision was black and white. He couldn’t reply to Abaddon’s false statement, he finally tore his gaze from her and brought it back to his arm, or lack of it. Abaddon mused herself, watching John, shaking and crying, yes, crying. The once brave and whole fighter had been brought to tears, broken into pieces. Two wet lines down his face were clearly visible as they reflected off his cheeks from the sunlight, which poured over him as if to shield him from the devil itself. John lifted his head up and shivered fiercely as he felt Abaddon’s moist tongue run up his face to lick the tears dripping from his left eye.

“Shhh…” The demon cooed before her voice, Kyra’s voice, became as dense as unalloyed venom, making itself known in John’s mind.

“Don’t cry…I WILL kill you…eventually.”

All John could hear was ringing and muffled roars from the masses of people gathered around in the stands, he tried to slow his breathing, something to keep him stable. He cupped his hand around the wound, trying not to pay attention to the massive amount of fluid that was leaking through the spaces between his fingers. Abaddon wasn’t even paying attention to the trembling human as he shifted his weight to one side, bringing himself up onto one knee. The demon was onto new prey now. It scanned the crowd, looking for the first place to strike, preferably somewhere away from the RHG guards. As it continued to soak in the hatred spat from the lips of the mortals, it gazed at all of them, hundreds of them, all collected in the same room as the most blood thirsty humanoid known to the over-world, and a majority of the underworld.

Although the sight would not be a welcomed one, John hysterically scanned the dirt coated floor for his removed arm. He stumbled violently, like a hammered drunk, towards a large splotch of liquid he could see in his hazy vision. Getting closer, he could make out a silver outline along the line of pale skin laying limp on the ground. Beneath his instincts and his body’s automatic signals, telling him to run, to survive, to live, he knew deep inside that he had to finish this before Abaddon hurt any more people.

He had to stop her.

An ear wrenching demonic roar sprung from Abaddon’s lips, resonating off the walls of the stadium as the audience grew quiet in response. Some were frozen in terror, and others were smart enough to assume Abaddon had something to say and wanted to be heard. With even the announcer without a word to release into the silence growing pregnant in the air, Abaddon’s wicked smile returned and she began to speak.

“You humans will never understand. You think you’re all so ‘grand’, so ‘intelligent’, and ‘all-knowing’ in your mortal ways. For a while, you even once lived in the peaceful bliss of never having thought that us demons existed in anything more than your bed time stories…Then we arrived, myself and Kyra. We’ve brought uneasiness to your minds, made you question your safety. Of course, I have no problem with this-”

John did his best to keep his breathing quiet, given the element of surprise would be his only advantage at this point. He bent down but adverted his gaze from the detached limb. He shivered when he placed his remaining hand on the thing, trying to slide his bracer off and gripping the right edge of the smooth metal with his trembling fingers as he placed it on the ground and tried to slip it on his other arm. He knew he’d stand no chance against Abaddon without it, despite how bad the odds were against him in the first place given how close he was to blacking out from the blood loss.

“-However, you all do. So, you send your little guards and police and preachers, even mutated super-powered gladiator FREAKS to come eliminate us. I didn’t even mind that as well, I’m sure they made lovely additions to your graveyards. But, when you send some spineless, ‘heroic’, mortal with nothing but a metal trinket as a weapon and actually try to convince the world that he can kill one of the most powerful and renowned demons in your lands. Oh yes, I was very mad about that…”

The speech was a muffled conglomeration of sounds in John’s ears. With the faint glow of his bracer his only reassurance before he pulled down the sleeves on his hoodie to cover it up. He stumbled to his feet and began coming up from behind Abaddon, dragging his feet against the dirt in his weakness.

“So, I’ll use your ignorant tool as an example of my rage towards your kind.”

“Buh!” John felt his feet leave the ground as an invisible force pushed him into Abaddon, the demon used her human hand to clutch him by his hoodie. She grinned a despicable grin as what sound like popping popcorn resonated in John’s ears. He could feel his skin growing warmer as Abaddon raised her right hand to reveal a sizzling orb of energy cackling in her palm. The demon’s lust for John’s pain was too great, to the point to where she hadn’t taken notice to John lowering his only hand towards Abaddon’s upper abdomen. John looked Abaddon in the eyes, with the amount of blood he had lost, his initial survival instincts had long past. He could think again, hazily, but he could think. He knew what he had to do next, and he forced himself to hold down a line of tears that were going to come at the thought. It was either him, or her…

“I’m sorry…”

The sound was so faint, Abaddon’s ears pricked up in attempts to hear it. But, when making out the sound by replaying it in her mind, the demon only snickered. “I’m not.” The blistering heat neared John’s face, the roar of the crowd was immense some cheering for blood, and others shouting insults at the demon. However, one voice finally triumphed over them all. With a volume John didn’t know he had left in him, he could see dark clouds encasing his vision as his hand gripped Abaddon’s shirt. A single word escaped his lips.


The next thing John remembered was being thrown to the floor as a disgusting howl in agony escaped Abaddon. As the pain spread like wild-fire throughout every nerve in the telekinetic’s body, the energy ball in Abaddon’s hand disappeared, leaving John to lay in the cold dirt. Abaddon nearly scared herself at the sound of her own cries in pain, the only agonizing voice that would not satisfy her lust for torture. She was wounded, but she knew she had won. The crowd was horrified and fear-stricken. That was the most Abaddon could have asked for.

So now it was time to leave…

At last, John’s hearing left him. The cheering of the crowd, the demonic screeches in the air, the orders of guards in the background preparing to remove the gladiators from the arena. All he could hear was the sound of his heart thumping at an excruciatingly slow pace and his breathing. He could only see Abaddon’s feet from where his head was resting, and he was too weak to move it. In an instant, the lower half of the figure disappeared, a blast of wind followed. Off in the distance, the demon landed somewhere in the crowd, clutching the area around its diaphragm. It telekinetically crushed the skull of a nearby security officer then impaled the other with an energy ball to his neck before stumbling awkwardly out of an exit to the arena.

Now, John’s mind was as fuzzy as his vision. He could see several figures approach him, their lips were moving but no voices escaped from their mouths. He couldn’t feel several warm arms lift him to his feet, but would not allow him to stand. He couldn’t feel the IVs being pricked into his skin. He couldn’t see another one of the RHG medical officers collecting his detached arm. Nor could he hear their praises, saying how he was ‘The bravest guy they had ever seen’ or ‘The luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet’. Within seconds, all he could see was black and he lost consciousness with a single thought lingering in his mind.

What have I done?

“…So te--ically, he DID lose.”

“Yes, --t at l--st he was st--l breathing --nd still had all of his int--nal organs…maybe not all -- his ap--ndages, but none-of-t---less…”

The persistent chirp of a heart rate monitor continually cut bits and pieces of the doctors’ conversation between one another off as John forced his eyes open and brought his hand…followed by the other, towards his face. He exhaled, maybe in relief, or maybe to relieve himself of the dizziness from the painkillers swirling in his brain. Through his oxygen mask, his sigh was easily muffled but heard by the two medical staff standing by his bed.

“And the hero awakens…” The first started with a smile to the nameless fighter before taking two small strides towards his bed.

John’s first initial reaction to his surroundings was with blank confusion, and that quickly transformed to utter devastation. He turned to the two staff members in hope of some information, but they seemed quiet for the first thirty seconds he had sat up from his bed. The second one, obviously the assistant to the first, decided to speak up.

“We don’t know what happened to Abaddon, it ran off into the forest and we lost track of it. The ungodly noises witnesses reported were probably from the demon’s shattered diaphragm. Wherever it is, it doesn’t have long.”

If John’s eyes could have bulged out of his sockets, they probably would have at that statement. The steady beeping of his medical equipment began to increase rapidly while the doctors questioned how what they could have said was wrong. John knew why, though. He shattered HER diaphragm, he hurt Kyra. Whom he had promised to protect was now dying out there, although he still blamed himself for Damon’s death, he was the one that drove his grappling hook into Kyra’s chest. It was HIS fault she was going to die. He could hear his heart rate monitor beeping more persistently at the thought.

“John, you n—d to calm d—n.”
“The de--- is too d---erous to -- -ept alive.”

John’s thoughts were interrupted by a sprouted wince coming from his mouth as he felt a cold liquid begin to seep into his veins. He looked towards his right arm, which was emanating the source of the change, and saw a needle piercing the numerous layers of his skin. He gave the doctor holding the god-awful syringe a glare as he felt the world around him alter and warp. He could feel someone laying his head back down on the pillow as the outer rim of his vision began to darken.

“No…” The doctors looked back at their patient as John managed the single word through his numbing lips. “She can’t die, please…”

“We’d help…’her’. But they lost her in the forest when she ran off. Although she couldn’t have gone far, it was far enough for them to lose her trail.”

John felt as if reality was broken as his vision grew so dark it was like looking down a long tunnel. The doctors were getting further away, as if representing John’s journey away from consciousness. He put up a decent fight given his condition, but it appeared this would be the second time that needles would win the battle today…



That’s what Abaddon’s lungs felt like every time she tried to breathe and failed. It seared against her skin with a robust lust, eating away at every fiber in her chest, consuming every precious molecule of oxygen left in her crimson blood. With no whole muscles to stabilize her lungs to keep them functioning, the demon may as well have tried breathing underwater. She was able to lose the local police chasing after her about half a mile through the forest before she collapsed from lack of oxygen. Broken ribs, punctured lung, and a shattered diaphragm along with other miscellaneous bruises were the verdict in Abaddon’s scan for injuries.

The demon gulped, gasped, and screeched, practically clawing at the frigid Toronto air in hopes it would satisfy her starved lungs. At last, rolling onto its back. The demon placed a hand on the hole in its chest, a hot blue energy caused the spilt blood around the opening to sizzle at its presence. Shutting its eyes, Abaddon brought the energy ball towards the fleshy hole. The flesh quivered at the sensation of the heat, letting several trickles of blood slip out from the wound until Abaddon finally felt for the broken muscles beneath her lungs and made direct contact with the shattered portions of her muscles. The demon was unsure how NO ONE could have heard her howls in agony as she used the heat from her chi to seal up a medium sized portion of her diaphragm. The fire in her chest faded, if not slightly as the sensation of cool air finally satisfied her respiratory system. Granted, it felt like breathing through a single coffee straw after a 5 mile sprint, but it was air, despite it not being enough.

With its energy reserves depleted, it only took the heavy blink of the demon’s eyes before human ones returned. A high pitched gasp took in the thick air of the forest as Kyra’s pupils darted across her surroundings in shock, then as the pain took over, she arched her back and began to cry out in agony. However, this depleted the little oxygen in her lungs which in turn made it hurt more. This vicious cycle continued to cause Kyra’s health to plummet until she began to see stars, her head grew light but pressured as if ready to pop like a balloon. She could feel her pulse pounding inside her forehead, and with each beat that echoed through her ears, the outer rims of her vision began to be consumed by darkness.




Off in the distance, or maybe not as far as she assumed, Kyra could see two large silhouettes. Her mouth gaped open, but no sound escaped it.




Kyra felt a surge of panic shoot down her spine as she felt warm hands clutch her arms and legs. Weightlessness filled her body and didn’t help the darkness in her vision that now no longer let her see the identity of the people holding her limbs.



The warm embrace of the stranger’s palms left her as even her sense of touch began to leave her, the last thing she could remember happening was the cold surface of being laid on a counter and muffled words exchanged between two or three people before the sound of her heart overtook all of her other senses. Feeling the heartbeat, feeling it pound blood through her broken body…




“And the she-demon awakens…”

A soft voice started, still bubbling in and out of Kyra’s ears like a moving siren echoing down a long hallway, when he was really only a few feet from her cell. “Seal up her chamber, she’s regaining consciousness.”

The yellow florescent bulbs were steady and didn’t flicker, emanating a just-as-steady buzz from the electricity being shot through its copper veins. Kyra instinctively shuddered as she ran her empty right palm against the cool smooth metal she was laying on-top of. Placing her other palm on the surface as well, she used the extra support to lift herself up into a sitting position on the table, the cloth from her long skirt keeping the chill from her legs. She took a quick glance around the room, being able to see through the other sides of these near-invisible walls, it was easy to conclude it was made of glass. Obviously very thick if they thought that this normally fragile material could hold a blood-thirsty demon at bay.

“It must have been hard. Forsaking your clan like that.”

Kyra froze on the spot, her chest barely in motion as she paused mid-breath. Her exposed eye slowly shut and her head bowed towards the floor as guilt washed over her like a tidal wave. She opened her mouth, but no words of protest escaped her. Maybe she was better off staying away from people after all. Maybe Freeborn WAS a mistake.

“What’s going to happen to me?” The telekinetic woman questioned, turning to a middle aged man dressed in a black cotton long sleeved shirt with a white lab coat and tan colored pant leggings. The mystery man’s smile peaked from the right side of his face, forming a smirk as he pushed his brown framed glasses further up his nose.

“We’re going to help fix you. Miss…” The man proceeded to motion his hand in her direction, cueing her to finish the sentence. But the child-like woman hung her head again.

“I don’t have a last name.”
“Would you like one?”

There was another long silence in the room, the single florescent bulb above Kyra’s head being the only break in the silence. With a slow nod, Kyra lifted her head to get a better view of the man. He offered her an identity, and he had yet to accuse her of anything. It was safe to say she was beginning to warm up to him. If not barely grow more comfortable with his presence. “Yes I would.”

The man’s smile evened out, looking more sincere than his smirk before. “How about ‘Owens’. Kyra Owens? Does that sound alright to you?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Good.” The man started, taking a step forward towards the newly named Kyra. “There’s just one more thing we need to take care of first, Miss Owens.”

Kyra flinched and turned to her right as she felt something cold pierce through her skin, she took notice to a tiny cylinder-shaped object being stuck into her arm by a metallic arm attached to one of the walls in her cell. For a moment, Kyra thought that reality had finally broken once the chemicals inside the cylinder began to kick in. She felt numb, but in a way that was out of her control, and that scared her. However, whatever this chemical was, was somehow keeping her very calm. Her eyes half shut, and she could hardly notice she was beginning to sway in place.

“For the safety of the staff, we’re going to have to put you under some sedatives until we can begin testing. We have to know what we’re dealing with before we can help you. This will hold you over for the rest of the day until your next battle. A young man named Sebastian volunteered to help do a experimental run with your demon, so we can collect some data on your mental and physical changes during the course of the fight. You two have a lot in common, so this will prove to be very beneficial.”

At the rate the drugs were getting through Kyra’s bloodstream, let alone her poor vocabulary, she hardly understood any of what the staff member said.

“By the way, my name is George. And if you’re good, you might just learn my last name.”

She managed to blink in unison just nodded slowly as numerous black clouds began to block her vision. She grew tired, very tired. She could feel her hands moving across the not-so-cold counter, positioning herself as she laid back down on the table she had woken up in only minutes ago, and fell asleep.

“Sweet dreams, Angel of Death.”

Crankuba's Entry


It’s always weird coming home and seeing a stranger about a foot from the front door, especially when said stranger has so many tattoos that he looks more like a living canvas than an actual human being. Shaking the thought from my mind, I jogged up the wooden stairs behind him as he was slowly brought his fist towards the door, but when he heard the clomping of my shoes behind him, he pulled his hand back, turning around while he did so. Upon seeing my face, he gave me a warm smile. “Hey! You must be Something Fierce!”

“Hey! You’re shirtless on my porch. Bit of an awkward first impression you’re making here.”

“Heh, yeah, sorry about that,” The slender man chuckled as he used a folder to fan his sweat drenched body. Honestly, if it was possible, his tattoos would’ve been drowning. “I lost a bet, you understand of course!”

“No actually,” I stated, crossing my arms, “I don’t.”

“Oh.” A tad embarrassed, he used his free hand the scratch the back of his neck under his long, draping black hair. “Well anyway, I’m here because the RHG-” Had he not barreled directly through it, my sigh would’ve cut him off, “is requesting-”

“Requesting?” I instantly repeated, positive that I had misheard the messenger, “As in I have an option? Or is that just a formality?”

The young man cocked an eyebrow at me before nodding before nodding. “Yeah.”

I gave him a solid three seconds before I exactly matched his facial reaction. “Huh? You realize you just answered an ‘or’ question with a ‘yeah’, right? Yeah to what?”

“You can deny it,” He informed me, gently striking the folder with the back of his hand, “Thing is, there’s big money in the fight, and I know how badly your clan’s struggling.”

If this was just about money and the state of Freeborn, why wasn’t Kyra the one being asked? Not that I wanted her to be I mean, I know how fights tear her apart -emotionally I mean- but I just couldn’t wrap my head around a halfway decent reason for an answer. “I’m sorry,” I slowly began, eyeing the man oddly, “But why are you coming to me with this?”

In an effort to bring the answer to the surface of his mind, the man closed his eyes momentarily. “It’s been a little while since the last time there’s been a good vs evil fight,” He eventually explained, trying to find more of the details, “And it’s been even longer since it was a common man in the good corner.”

Not gonna lie, I felt a proud smile form at his words. “So why’s this optional? Never heard of that sort of thing before.”

“Heh, I don’t remember all the reasons,” He chuckled lightly, “But I know part of it’s that you aren’t a superhero, and that the demon in question’s got some serious ties to Freeborn.”

“Demon...” I echoed, immediately thinking of my clan’s last encounter with those beasts. I might not’ve been the leader, but I was the oldest, and I should’ve been prepared for them to ambush us. I should’ve had some kind of plan on the back burner of my mind, but I didn’t. I failed my family, and one of them died as a result. His blood, Damon’s blood, was on my hands. No one else’s. “What exactly does this one have to do with my clan?” I growled, feeling my fists began to clench. “Was it one of the ones who attacked us?”

“I know it attacked Rhami,” The man casually shrugged, “But I don’t think it was there when all of you were attacked. It’s shed enough blood to fill a lake though.”

“Hold up a sec, this THING came after Rhami specifically!?” I was still stuck on the Rhami part before the rest hit my like a drunk driver. “And just how many people did it kill!!?”

“I don’t know off the top of my head,” The messenger confessed, “But it’s definitely triple digits.” After a moment, his eyes began drawing upwards and to his right, “I think...” Horrid astonishment filled me to the point that I was locked in place for about ten seconds, but as it transitioned to an intense loathing of the beast, it had the exact opposite effect, spurring me to pace furiously on the porch, as if the movement would relieve some of my hatred. “No one’ll think any less of you if you opt out.”

I stopped so suddenly that it almost sounded like I was stomping my feet. Facing the opposite way by chance, I painstakingly slowly craned my neck to look at the man over my shoulder. “I’m in.” I stated, offended that he’d think I’d let the monster’s rampage continue.

“Are you sure?” The man almost wearily questioned, taking a few steps to me while I turned around, “This is a HUGE decision. Read the file, think if over for a few days.” Outstretching the file to me, he flopped it a few times, urging me to accept it.

I folded my arms instead. “I don’t care what it says in there,” I stated, an air of arrogance in my voice as though I couldn’t lose. The motivation was too great, and it’s evil was too much take me to anything but the mindset of a man on a mission. “The demon dies, so you had better tell it to keep its distance, because if I find it, I won’t wait for the arena. I’ll send it home to burn forever on the spot.” Walking past the man, I could see that he had his doubts, but despite that, I had none. It had ties to us, so for the payback of Rhami, the protection of Kyra, and the remembrance of Damon, I was going to cut them the way my bracer would cut through its jugular, sending it down in a pool of, for once, its own blood. I knew how it was going to end, it was fact before it even began. Opening the door, I looked back at the messenger one last time before I slammed it shut. “And you can quote me on that.”

- wRHG Stickpage Battle vs Kyra -

“Something Fierce,” My head snapped up as my nickname echoed off the crampt burgundy walls I’d been occupying. “We’re ready for you, grab your things and make your way to arena four.” Almost two and a half hours of sitting in the RHG’s tiny waiting room and it was finally my turn. My turn to fight. To fight for something good, to stop a demon. Slowly, I pushed myself up from my lone comfy chair to make my way from the TV, which aside from a few seconds, I had never even turned on, and over to the door. I had better things to do than watch people die on live television. Like mentally prepare myself for the fight of my life, because I knew deep down that if I didn’t win it, I’d be my last. My organs would probably end up being splattered all over the walls like some abstract painting. Gradually, my palm reached out, and gripping the brass knob, twisted, and pulled it open.

Nothing but a short walk separated the safety I currently resided in and the war that awaited me in the gladiator pit, but with every step I took, it wasn’t fear that filled me, but courage. I knew what I was fighting for, and I planned to represent it well. Against this thing, I was the embodiment of humanity, and it was going to learn that that’s more powerful than anything it can ever hope to handle.

Finally, I made my way out of the short hallway, and into the arena lobby, where dozens of fans were making idle chit chat and my escort, a burly man who appeared to be in his late thirties, awaited me. “Right this way,” He announced, his voice piercing through all the others as he motioned for me to follow. “Arena four isn’t far from here.”

“Lead the way,” I grinned, right on his heels as the suddenly dead silent crowd parted before us. Most eyes were averted from me, but the few that locked on seemed to be looking at me like I was fated to die. Their mouths hung open a bit as their somber eyes tried to see deep inside of my soul. I chuckled at their lack of confidence in me. I had enough to go around. “It’s about time someone stood against this demon.”

No sooner had I finished speaking than I heard a timid child’s voice cut through the crowd. “Mommy, is he really going to stop her?”

“In all fairness, probably not Sweetie.”

Her? I went to ask, but the RHG worker gently put a hand on my back and ushered me forward. Honestly, I was expecting to duke it out with another shadowy demon, like the one I fought in the woods so long ago. I guess I never really considered gender as part of the equation, which considering my bout with Whisper, I should’ve. Come to think of it...she wasn’t all bad, we just got off on the wrong foot. Maybe demons aren’t innately evil...maybe they come like us, in batches of both good and bad. …But that didn’t change anything about the one I was against now. Once you start murdering people, you’re evil. Period. No exceptions, no redemption, only the justice that needs to be delivered.

About a foot and a half from the entrance to my area did another voice chirp up. “Does this mean you’ll be leaving Freeborn?”

Utter confusion filled me like a water balloon ready to burst. Craning my neck to face the voice, there wasn’t much more than perplexity in showing in my eyes when they landed on a reporter, shoving a microphone in my face. “Huh?”

“What does this mean for you and your clan?” The woman questioned, pushing the mic even closer to me. “What happened for it to come to this?”

“...I’m doing this for them... Heck, I’m doing this for everyone this thing’s ever hurt. For everyone any demon hurt. To show that we’ll take a stand for what’s right.”

“I get that, you give off a certain...heroic vibe, but what changed for you to do this?”

“What do you mean ‘what changed’?”

“Between you and Kyra.”

It took about nine seconds for me to put all the pieces together. “...Oh my God...” Without the microphone, no one would’ve ever heard it. For the first time in what I remembered of my life, self loathing began swirling in my mind. Just a feeling of worthlessness and guilt, like I didn’t even deserve the dirt on my sneakers. Without warning or reason, I had betrayed everyone I loved! The family that took me in when I had no one! I called my innocent, timid, loving sister, who’s been through more than anyone can imagine, a demon, and talked about her like she was a soulless monster! On top of all that, I had agreed to fight her, in this brutal sport! Any ideals I claimed to be fighting for suddenly died like my self respect.

“...You didn’t know...did you?” Giving me a grain of space, the reporter finally took a half step back, pulling the mic far enough back for me to breathe.

And for a long time, that’s all I did. I just stood in silence, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had done the unspeakable. An empty feeling gradually started consuming everything else on my mind, leaving me frozen, like some hollow statue. Like I was nothing...

“Come on John, you’re fight’s about to start.”

And then. Suddenly. I felt something. One, lone feeling. Unmistakable rage. Paired with an unstoppable urge.

Within the instant, my feet violently pivoted to face the man, and without even thinking, I blasted my fist directly into his jaw, leaving my knuckles bloody as his lip broke and he staggered back. “You sick dog!” I screamed, trying to rush at him only to be held back by secret security in the crowd. “You set me up against her?! You said I’d be fighting a demon!”

“You will be fighting a demon.”

Limbs thrashing furiously, I just wanted to hit someone, anyone but her. “Yeah, you in a second!” I roared, desperately trying to break free. “I’ll kill you all for this!”

“You don’t mean that.” My escort stated, pulling a long needle out of his pocket. “And this is no one’s fault but your own.” If had turned on my bracer, I would’ve shot him with it, right where his heart should’ve been. I could barely move my knees before he was upon me, and despite trying to jerk my body to the side, he effortlessly impaled the needle into my arm, injecting a cloudy grey fluid into my body. Darkness stole my vision by the end of the second as my limbs fell limp, and before I could even give him the finger I was cast off in a deep sleep.


“Ladies and Gentlemen!” My eyes suddenly snapped open, hearing some announcer's voice boom just outside, stretching out each word to the point of ridiculousness, “Have we got a main event for you! You’ve seen knockouts, a decapitation, headshot and even a disembowelment! But now! Now we’ve got something to really make you squirm!” That right there made me squirm. How could people watch this? “Prepare yourselves ladies and gentlemen! For tonight, we have one of our most brutal gladiators stepping forth to soak the entire front row! Love her or hate her, heeere’s Kyra!”

I couldn’t tell if there was more cheering or booing, but thunderous something roared throughout the area at an ungodly volume. The crowd was so amped up that even though I was in sealed room just outside of it, I had to plug my ears to block out some of the noise. I couldn’t even imagine the toll that it was taking on Kyra...they made her sound like a monster...and even though it wasn’t true, she probably believed it...

“And the opponent!” It was hard to be heard over the audience, but somehow the announcer managed it, and his success dulled the other voices, eager to hear what he had to say. “If anyone knows how to survive a fight with her, this man’s one of the few! Having lived with her and being part of her clan for over two years now, brace yourself! Here comes Something Fierce!”

With the call of my nickname, the door before me slowly began to rise, allowing a bright, white light to seep inside, blinding me when it eventually rose to my eyes. Shielding them immediately, I took a pair of steps forward, entering the arena. Cheers once again filled the crowd at my presence, although noticeably quieter than before, while my eyes slowly adjusted to the area.

I don’t know how they did it, but the battlefield was huge. Scattered rock and boulders riddled an almost mountainous warzone, complete with several sudden drops and a few huge fissures in the ground. It was as though we were expected to fight in some wasteland after an earthquake utterly destroyed a civilization.

Although I had absolutely no intention to fight Kyra, I still needed to see her... I needed to apologize, knowing fully well my words would never be able to mend the situation I had put us in. Step by step, my feet dragged against the stony surface below, my head hung so low that I could only see a few inches in front of my toes.

“If you need to use the restrooms or by a drink, now would be a good time to do so. Seems like the action’s only a few minutes away!” I wish the announcer was in the area. Then I’d give them a fight.

Without my pace changing at all, the cheers from the crowd soon dulled and turned to loud, obnoxious boos and chants. Different groups had different words, but they were said the same way and competing for sound.

“Kill the de-mon! Kill the de-mon!”

“Move your ass-es! Move your ass-es!”

“Mur-der John-ny! Make him bleed out!”

I could feel my heart start to throb as my guilt started clenching it with each and every beat. Everything I was hearing...she was hearing too... And I knew how devastating it’d be for her...

I felt smaller than the gravel stuck in my shoe when I finally brought my eyes up. There she was. Just across a massive fissure, and not even a foot from her entrance, I could see her figure, kneeling on the ground, her elbows, planted on the dirt and shaking badly along with the rest of her body, as her hands covered her face. Her long, draping brown hair prevented me from seeing her expression, but I’d have to be an idiot not to tell she was weeping.

I desperately wanted to call out her name, to tell her that everything was going to be alright, but deep in the depths of my mind I knew for a fact it was wrong... so I couldn’t do anymore than whisper. “Kyra...” My voice shook as empathy almost brought me to tears as well. I’ve never considered suicide...but I don’t think I would’ve minded having a heart attack on the spot...

“Any minute now.”

The announcer’s voice made my eye twitch, and after deep breath, I finally raced a few feet and lept over the massive crack in the ground, easily bracing myself when my feet hit the ground. The crowd roared in excitement at my sudden increase in speed, but were roaring in frustration when it plummeted back down to what it was before as I continued to my clan leader. Yet again, her name was the only thing I could say.


A new wave of sobbing came from her as she heard me speak. She seemed to pull tighter, into an even smaller ball, as the tears dripping down her face began forming a puddle. “T-They told me what y-you said...”

“They played me!” I frantically exclaimed, guilt hitting me like a devastating uppercut as I desperately tried to defend myself, “They didn’t say it was you, and you haven’t done anything wrong, none of it’s your fault!”

“Yes it is!” She cried, her hands then the only thing keeping her face off the dirt, “I can’t stop it John! I-I just c-can’t...”

“Yes you can,” I tried to assure her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, which only made her recoil, “You’re stronger than it is! You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met! You just have to fight it.” If it was physically possible without forcefully turning her head, I would’ve looked her dead in the eyes as I said it. “You can beat it, Krya. Believe me, you can.”

Ever so slowly, she finally brought her gaze up to me. Between her mask and hair, most of her was concealed somehow, but her unhidden eye was as red as the blood I was about to bleed, and her face as soaked as a piece of cloth caught in a hurricane. Lips quivering, they finally parted as she spoke. “N-no I-I can’t...but y-you could if...” I can’t even imagine how fast her heart was beating, but mine was racing hers. “...if you k-killed me now...”

“I’m not even going to fight you!” No one’s ever been booed as loudly as I just was. “You’re a sister to me! We aren’t battling!”

“Y-You have t-to!” I’m not convinced I could count high enough to list all the emotions in her shaking, teary eye, “It’ll k-kill y-you if you d-don’t!”

“No I don’t, this fight isn’t between us, it’s between you and the thing trying to tear you apart from the inside out. It’s a fight you can, and will win, and when you do, it’ll be the turning point of your life! Once it learns it can’t control your life, you’ll finally be able to live it! Change starts here and now!”

Kyra’s hands suddenly jerked from her eyes to the sides of her head, clenching down on her skull. It was a safe bet that I stuck a nerve with the demon holding her hostage, and it was fighting to fight me.

But Kyra was fighting back.

“I-I’m n-not st-”

“Yes you are.”

“N-n-no I-I-”

“You can do this.”

Her entire body was trembling as she fully collapsed on the ground. “John!”

“I’m right here, don’t worry.”


Instead, I put my palm right back on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Not a second passed between my sentence ending and when Kyra’s body finally stopped moving. Breathing a sigh of relief, I readied a broad, proud smile for when she tilted her neck up to me.

Opening my mouth to speak however, it was a much different sound that came out.

A blood curdling scream, as breaking, no, shattering bone filled the rest of the area. The fact that I had to clamp my eyes shut was the only thing that stopped me from staring at my hand as an ungodly amount of force crushed it until it was only a quarter of it’s original size, my fingers breaking at all angles and knuckles piercing my skin. My shriek was renewed with every snap and crunch, crackling throughout my entire body.

Her sweet, timid voice was nothing shy of terrifying as a deep, twisted one snickered, replacing it entirely. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those screams.”

A sudden tug on the unrecognizable sac of flesh I used to call a hand forced another pathetic yelp from me as my entire body was jerked about a foot in the air, my legs dangling as they felt no ground to hold them. Agony was threatening to make my eyes water, but I forced them open regardless, looking my leader directly into hers. Her mask off, I could easily see a bright, cyan glow coming from them both her eyes, and a wicked smirk pressing her cheek up against her left one. This wasn’t Kyra.

“No comment?” The possession sneered, pulling her body to her feet, “Even after how outspoken you’ve been about me?”

“You’re nothing,” I hissed, my eye twitching at another pulse of pain, “And as soon as Kyra realizes that, you’ll never take control of her again.”

“You almost sound like you believe that.”

“She’s stronger than you.” A hideous chuckle escaped the lips of my foe. “And so am I.” It suddenly stopped. “You can’t scare me, and you can’t break me. But I can, and I will stop you.”

She looked far beyond insulted as she took a step towards my floating body. Without a word, the telekinetic force holding me up by my hand clenched so tightly not even a master of puzzles would’ve been able to put the bone back together. “You maggots don’t even have the strength of a worm compared to me,” The possession bellowed, just to be heard over my shriek, “This,” Her finger suddenly jammed into my lower abdomen between my muscles, and painfully slowly dragging it up, she continued, “Won’t help you, and it won’t save you. Nothing can save you.” Reaching my neck, her finger flicked off my chin as her homicidal smile returned, “But I’m going to love tearing you apart.”

“And I’ll love watching you fail.”

A humored scoff was the reply I got before the force on my hand suddenly whipped away before releasing me, launching my body like a rocket high into the air, propelling across the arena. A constant stream of air blasted against me from my sheer speed, but as I began ragdolling downward, logic stayed with me through my sudden wave of panic. Considering splattering on the ground wasn’t how I wanted to go out, my good hand slammed on my bracer, lighting up the rims in a faint golden glow, and my arm jerked somewhere roughly level with the ground. In the eighth of a second I had, it’s a miracle I found such a spot.

“Fire!” I yelped, causing my grappling hook to burst out and lodge itself into the face of a cliff. With a sudden thrust from my tool, my path changed from my downwards decent to death to one that only about six degrees. I was still traveling far too fast however, so when my first foot hit the ground, my heel utterly shattered, decimating any balance I would’ve had. “Release!” I howled as my body began to tumble, having no desire to smash into the cliff as well. While my hook zoomed back, my body continued falling forward violently, barely having time to bring my arms up to shield my face before the crashed against the ground. I didn’t hear another break, thank God, but as grunts of anguish spewed from me as I started rolling off the ground until my momentum finally died, I knew for a fact I’d have too many bruises to count.

“Look out!” A singular cry from an audience member alerted me to incoming pain, so without even thinking, I scampered a half foot to the left, grimacing as I put weight on my broken bones, but wincing as I heard a crash come from where I once was. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see a fresh bolder in my former spot, cracks all along the base and dust from the impact still floating in the air. Swallowing harshly, I forced myself to my left foot, my one with the shattered heel hovering just above the ground.

“Shit has officially gotten real ladies and gentlemen! Give these gladiators your support!”

“Ab-a-ddon! Ab-a-ddon!”

“Some-thing Fierce! Some-thing Fierce!”

Ironically, my name, or nickname rather was being overpowered as well. Gradually, my gaze drifted from the massive stone to the one who launched it. Standing on her own platform, levitating it in the air, she sneered down at me as a cluster of small stones rose off the dirt. I didn’t need to be a genius to know what was coming next. Abaddon didn’t even need to move a muscle to make them fly at me like they were blasted out of a shotgun, and before I could even blink, hundreds of stones, all the size of fist, ripped through the air. Instinct took over, and I dove for the bolder, but not before a cluster of rocks bashed into my breaking body. About four slammed into my side, but the one that could’ve made me forget all the others wailed into my brow, just an inch above my eye. While my body crashed behind cover, I could feel a trickle of blood stream off to the side and down my cheek while the cheerful crowd roars grew muffled. Dark circles began enveloping my vision, but with a few blinks, reality gradually started to set back in.

Considering my right hand was utterly destroyed, I drew my left hand up above my eye to clot my bleeding, finding my palm immediately soaked upon contact. With each passing second a growing fear began spiraling me into a deep desperation, which I prayed wouldn’t leave me six feet under. Carefully avoiding use of my left heel and right hand, I pulled myself up, leaning heavily against the rock, hoping to catch my breath.

That chance didn’t come.

Before I could even inhale, my cover suddenly jolted forward, and only through a lifesaving mixture of luck and reflex was I able to bunny hop over the boulder, into the open.

“Fudge!” It wasn’t, but let’s just pretend that’s what flew out of my mouth when I saw what was waiting for me. Homicidal smile present on the possession’s face, a dark chuckle escaped her lips as she sent the next wave of stones at me. As if it would help at all, I pocketed a nearby rock, half buried in the dirt, before jerking my hand at Kyra. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I probably wasn’t. “Fire!’’ All my old battles were blurring together in my mind, all the times I’ve bleed and shed blood. All the times I’ve fallen in a pool or made one from my foes. All the fights I’ve won...but even more than that...the ones I lost. The times I should’ve died, but didn’t...and how this war might be the one to break the streak.

How it might be the one that kills me...

And that’s why, in my desperation, I wasn’t aiming at the platform. But rather the person standing on it... Speeding at her like a bullet, I couldn’t even watch out of fear of it connecting. The moment my eyes slammed shut, I felt the chain suddenly snap as the hook stopped moving, and before the second ended felt the rush of my weapon pulling me after it. Just below me, an army of rocks crashed against the ground like a machine gun’s clip, piercing the dirt, like they would’ve pierced through me.

Without even time to think another thought, my momentum suddenly came to a dead stop, taking me so off guard, it literally ripped the air of my lungs. Gasping for breath, my eyes burst open like a door being punted down.

They were met by a bright, cyan glow. And a laugh. Only about four inches in front of her neck, my grappling hook seemed to be frozen in time, leading up to my bracer, and finally, to me, all locked in her telekinetic clutch. “That toy is all you have,” Abaddon forced Kyra’s voice to sneer, “You don’t have a family, a past or even a name. This-” I don’t know if she was pulling it towards her or just let go of the thing and let it act on it’s own, but I could feel my bracer begin to slide off despite its death grip on my forearm. “-Is everything you have.” A shrill scream burst from my lungs as my tool ran over my shattered hand before it was finally reunited with its hook. “And now.” The possession grip on me suddenly seized, and as I started to freefall, only by the skin of my teeth was I able to grab the side of the platform, preventing myself from splattering on the ground below. Rapid, petrified breaths shook my body as I forced my other arm on the base of the platform, being sure not to put any pressure on my right hand, before I finally forced myself back on top of it, the toes on my left foot keeping my broken heel off the ground. My dread filled eyes locked on my bracer, terrified of what could be coming.

“It’s gone.” A sudden, metallic crunch echoed throughout the entire arena as my trusty tool, my sense of identity, and the only thing I had from my past, was crushed in the blink of an eye. It’s steel screeched as its exposed edges and new, mangled corners scraped up against itself, while the golden light that once came from the rims flickered a few times before finally dying. I knew it was out of shock, but along with myself, it felt like the crowd gave my tool a moment of silence.

The announcer however, gave no such courtesy. “It’s the beginning of the end, ladies and gentlemen!”

My eyes were still locked on the baseball sized heap of scrap, even after it thudded on the platform, until what almost sounded like a twisted song stole my gaze.

“There once was a man with no name.”

I took a limping step away from the edge. With nowhere to run and no escape, I had no other option as my mind was swirling with emotions, all trying to dominate the others.

“Who tried to be the hero in a deadly game.”

Regret, remorse, shame, guilt, frustration, rage, and sadness.

“He challenged a woman, with nothing but pride.”

A small, cyan glow, matching her eyes exactly, began illuminating Abaddon’s hand.

“He thought he could win, with what was inside.”

Within seconds, the light condensed into a tiny orb before expanding to the size of my head, cackling with pure, unmistakable, energy.

“But bleeding and broken, he’d fall to the floor.”

Without warning, her left hand suddenly clenched, causing an explosion of agony to blast from my right leg. Unmistakable anguish flew from my throat at the feeling of my imploding bones while I crashed, facedown, on the levitating stone slab.

“Searing in pain, he could take no more.”

A frail hand with an unexpected strength suddenly flipped me over.

“So with his last breath.”

Pinning me in place by seizing my neck, I could see her other hand slowly draw her blue orb of death closer to my head. My heart-rate about doubled as I felt the intense heat inches away from my ear.

“He’d scream, begging for death!”

If nothing else, that first part was right. The very moment the magic ball touched my flesh, I felt all the heat of an inferno flare up inside of my skull. Jerking my neck to the side, all the air inside rushed out of my lungs, forming one excruciation howl, more than enough to cover up all the noises from the crowd. Thrashing around frantically, I desperately tried to break free as Abaddon brought the ball closer to my skull, consuming most of my ear with a hellish intensity. Only during a sharp gasp so I wouldn’t suffocate myself through lack of breathing was I able to hear the possession’s homicidal laughter.

Sweat had long since soaked my head, but as the ball came even closer still, I reached an all new level of panic. I could feel the orb sear my cheek, killing the skin on contact and burning through multiple layers. I went to scream, but my voice had been long since exhausted for anything more than an airy shriek to come out. Even so, Abaddon’s hysteria only grew. “You know you want it,” She hissed, “Say it! Tell me you just want to die! Tell me you can’t take it anymore, and I might speed things up.”

If I could focus on more than one thing at a time, I would’ve called that bluff. Instead however, of the mass of images that flashed in my mind, praying one would offer me an out, one, lone, distinct memory came to mind. The rock I grabbed. It seemed like a good idea at the time, useless immediately after...but now...it was completely invaluable. The scent of my own burning flesh in it of itself was almost paralyzing, especially when paired with the unimaginable anguish it came with, but somehow I was able to force my quivering, bloodsoaked hand down my side, and eventually into my pocket. “Never...” I don’t know how, but the word weakly snuck out between my airless howls and shrieks. Gripping my rock with the last of my little strength, I prayed that Abaddon had failed to notice my movement before I finally swung it at her side for all my worth. I didn’t care where it hit, so long as it did.

And as something cracked, I knew it had. I didn’t hear it, but I felt something give way when my blow landed, and felt the shattered rib with the side of my hand as it glanced her frail, almost anorexic body, knocking her off me. In a less urgent time, I would’ve felt a wave of guilt, but I was running on instinct and need to survive, so I didn’t even look back as I tried to scamper to my feet in a failed attempt to get to what remained of my bracer, only to crash back to the floating floor the moment my shattered ankle shoved down against it. I was in so much pain that it didn’t even register, but as my chest impacted and I frantically crawled forward, I heard movement to my side.

One option: Abaddon.

One meaning: Do or die.

With one last push forward, I launched myself a few more inches, and out of reflex, shot my right hand, my mangled mass of flesh and bone, at it. That...still hurt...but even as agony rippled through me, I jerked my limb back, causing the jagged ball to roll back to me, allowing me to snatch it with my good hand, just barely before I felt my entire body seized and yanked into the air.

I knew what was coming, so instead of looking onward, I looked down at my old tool, rotating it frantically, trying to figure out which half was the bottom among the cracks and fresh edges.

“You can’t even look your leader in the eyes anymore?”

I tried to ignore it, but apparently that wasn’t an option. Telekinetic force gripped my chin and pulled it upward until Abaddon and I’s gazes were even. And by that, I mean my exhausted eyes were glaring straight into that scar running down her eye, like I was trying to burn a hole through it to destroy the demon inside my sister. She chuckled darkly at my narrowed brow, her gaze slowly drifting to my fingers, running all over my bracer, searching for a particular chamber. “I’ve got a rhyme even you should remember.” I was hurting everywhere so it was hard to tell, but I was pretty sure my spine tingled.

“This little piggy went to the market.”

I almost blacked out when flesh and tendon suddenly tore apart, completely severing my working index finger from the rest of my hand in an explosion of blood. Any air I’d been stocking up on, I lost in that shriek. Somehow however, my palm continued its search.

“And this little piggy went to the show.”

Blood splattered all over my tool, soaking it in a thick crimson as my middle finger followed suit in a gut wrenching, almost heart stopping anguish. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping the ball in my hand.

“This li-”

Without warning, my thumb finally ran over a slot in my mangled mass of metal. “Smoke!” In an instant, it flipped open as wide as it could, but as the bead tried to roll out...and failed...by not even a millimeter, dread took my heart in a death-grip.

The sadistic nursery rhyme paused momentarily for another laugh before picking right back up. I could feel tension on my ring finger even before the first word was sung.

“This little piggy w-”
One final memory came to save my life out of the blue. Aiming the smoke bomb’s chamber at Abaddon, I jerked my tool to the right, and then violently to the left immediately after. Even with as little maneuver room as it had, the delicate ball burst upon impact with the side of the chamber, and with all the pressure it was under, it’s smoke burst out like a cannonball, blasting my foe right in the face with a mixture of thick, various disorienting toxins.

Succumbing to a violent coughing fit, her grasp on me finally broke. Landing on my unbroken toes, I let gravity condense my body before jolting myself upright, leaping directly at my leader, pulling what was left of my hand back for one final attack. Time almost stopped when I was within striking range, she had taken a step back due to the toxins in her eyes, and trying to rub the chemical out, was unprepared when my arm started arching at her. With all the pain in my body and hatred in my heart, I swung at what defined Kyra’s possession. In a deviating blow, my steel struck her scar, adding several short, deep gashes to it, knocking her off her feet and slamming her eyes shut, but as small as the platform was, she didn’t have enough space to land on.

Neither of us did. Almost on top of each other, her back crashed on the rocky surface just before my stomach did, but actually having momentum, we slid the final few inches to where our head and shoulders were just off the platform. Gravity took it from there. Our slide went straight into a free-fall within the second, and thirty feet in the air, I only had time to do one thing before we hit the ground.

Assuming I was dealing with Kyra herself again, I did one simple action the split second before impact.

The crowd went wild when I held her hand, with what was left of mine...

01-08-2013, 09:15 PM
Unfortunate that this thread doesn't have more votes. These are two absolutely FANTASTIC stories everyone's missing out on :/

01-09-2013, 09:09 PM
I loved both stories.

As usual, you have a great way of setting the mood, and great description. I can really feel the energy, the raw emotions, the pain they suffer through. However, it doesn't exactly feel like a battle to me, more like a scene from life. This is most likely just personal preference. Great work.

You my friend have also done a great job. Unfortunately, I noticed a few errors in your work. One (and this might not even be one) is that you forgot to put the n in area, making it "arena". I also noticed you forgot the u in "buy" making it by. There might have been a few more tiny ones, but they didn't at all take away from the overall reading experience. Your action scenes were more intense, similar to a scene from a movie. I felt myself break from reality and watch as good and evil collided. After reading Kyra's story though, I feel that Abaddon was a bit more playful. Either way, I loved it.

@Both Contenders
I am personally not going to vote on the poll, both because both stories were excellent, as well as the fact I feel way too closely attached to you both. I did want to let you know my opinions on them however.Good luck to you both.

01-14-2013, 09:25 PM
And we've officially come to a tie!

I know there weren't many votes, but I greatly appreciate them all, as well as the comments we got!
Lovin' the support!

03-24-2013, 12:30 PM
Tie Vote?! I'm going have to read and drop my two cents. Look out. :)

EDIT: Wow this was an extremely good read. Being unfamiliar to the characters in either story (this is the first wRHG I'm reading), I was afraid I wouldn't be able to connect with them as well without an origin story or solid development. Both sides delivered with the latter. I hope I'm not let down when I browse other wRHGs, this was truly a great work.

In Kyra's entry, I really appreciated the use of metaphors. They added so much weight to the descriptions of events and environments, and made it so much more of an interesting read. However, sometimes I felt like I was looking for the next one, and it became a distraction at some points. Aside from that, the entry overall was very captivating.

I happened to like Crankuba's prologue out of the two. The dialog was clean, simple, and slightly humorous (at the start). Something Fierce had me interested right at the start. And between the two, I think I may have found that story just a bit more thorough and my favorite.

03-24-2013, 03:25 PM
Wow, the people of SE are quickly coming towards the writers lounge, its almost as if SE and wRHG are colliding.