Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-29791712-20160414042049

One down, one more to go.

I held my victim’s mouth with my sweaty palm as he twitched and staggered around, blood oozing from the cut on his throat. It poured out like the waters in Niagara Falls. The enemy tried gauging at my eyeballs with his ravenous claws, but as each second passed, his attempts steadied down until eventually he stopped trying. He gave one last endeavor before his body grew stiff, and the full weight of his mass fell upon my arms.

I shrugged him down, and gazed at his pale and lifeless face. My victim’s entire body was washed in his own hot and boiling blood, as well as my own body. All of the bruises and laceration on his bare arms and legs showed the history of our battle. He proved to be a tough opponent, but I knew I could defeat him the moment our eyes met in combat. His eyes spoke of hesitation and defeat. Mine only displayed victory. I knew his blood would spill, and I would be the one to bathe in it.

A menacing smile crept up my dried lips. Beads of sweat dripped from all parts of my body, but I never felt so alive and energetic before. The past few weeks I had been restless with the drive to win. I made sure to analyze each and every one of my challengers. I thought about ways to annihilate my enemies. I mapped out the entire setting we were placed in, and studied the little details most people wouldn’t bother to care for. I was destined to win, and nobody, not even God himself, would be able to change that.

I thought this game would provide an excellent variety of opponents, all of them desperate to win as much as I was. But since I faced my first enemy, I knew that nobody was as motivated as I was. Yes, I did witnessed the hunger in their eyes and motives. I felt the fierceness in their fists, the ambition in every cut from their knives, but they lacked the total incentive in which I believed I only contained.

This world had rotted their souls, and I can’t blame them. The entire population of us suffered the consequences of the choices we made in our previous life. Each day the punishment felt worse than the previous time. Each day my ears were filled by not only the sound of my own tormented screams, but the wails and cries of my fellow “companions”, if I must call them that. Each day I saw how millions of souls were pulverized, scorched, ripped to shreds, and any possible form of torture you can think of.

But that was just the start of it all. Nobody can even begin to ponder about what happens further on.

For over sixty-one years, sixty-one unbearable years, I endured the worst of the worst. Even during the few moments where I thought my soul would finally give up, and by some miracle I would no longer exist in this demented universe, I continued to suffer. In Hell, there is no ending to look forward to. This place disobeys the fundamental laws of the previous world. Your body just revives its destroyed cells back, and once again the painful cycle restarts. My agony lasted for eternity.

Until the day finally came when Satan announced my name, and I was able to participate in his annual game.

I made my egress out of the hideout I was in, and entered the dusty world that remained outside. Every year thriteen candidates participate in a new setting. I’ve watched how souls from all different parts of the world, all different periods of time, duked it out during the middle of a sand storm, or at the midst of a hurricane. This one time Satan suggested the amusing idea of having a live tornado spin around the battlefield. The bastard even allowed hunting animals like lions and sharks, depending on the particular setting, to play a part in the war.

But none of those factors can eliminate you. You must fall in the hands of your opponents. That’s the only rule.

That, and the other rule. The rule that, when I first heard it, only encouraged me to do my best in this event.

The rule was, you must kill your last opponent in a form of torture of your choice. It can vary from whatever you want, from the electric chair, to drowning your enemy in a pool of bubbling acid.

I knew just the way I wanted to kill my last opponent with.

Huge amounts of dust and ash hailed down upon my body, causing my lungs to congest. The smoke and mist clouding my eyes made it difficult to discern through the area, but I relied solely on my other senses. My only weakness at the moment was my chest. I coughed every goddamn minute or so, and I lacked the proper stamina for travel. I could barely run a mile before I start to suffocate. Not only that, but the extremely hot temperature dehydrated me instantly. Add that to the pain in my throat due to the gallon of phlegm inside my neck, and I found myself in a tight predicament.

But in my previous life, I’ve escaped and survived through worse. I wouldn’t lose to these puny and despicable pieces of scum. I didn’t fight in two of the greatest wars known to mankind just to fall down in the hands of mere serial killers and rapist. I was a mass-murderer, feared by thousands, no, millions, of pathetic souls who failed to see in my vision. I ruled an empire, made a nation my personal bitch, and caused pandemonium all across the globe. No, I would not be brought to my knees by anybody, not even God or Satan.

The only person who can kill me, is me. I made sure of that.

The last time I located the last enemy was when he stationed himself near the far North side of the arena, the safest vicinity around here. I gave the man my medal of approval for being able to cease control of such a valuable part of the battlefield. I sought to capture that land first, but he beat me to it. Plus I distracted myself with murdering the most people I could find that first day. The itch to hunt burned through me tremendously that first hour. I harnessed my avidity, however, and thought my plans through with patience and coordination.

I had him within my grips. The only step left was to proceed with his kidnapping.

I made my journey closer to his claimed land. Throughout the expedition, I felt severe fatigue and dehydration, but the only thing that kept me walking was the thirst to win. Even when my vision grew weary, and I began stumbling, I never stopped to take a break. I was only moments away from Satan granting my reward. If anyone thought I would back off now, they were sadly mistaken of who I am.

I reached the front of the enemy’s camp. I felt relieved here when I breathed in the fresh air, and I saw with more clarity. Blood tracks and pieces of flesh embellished the ground below. This man proved to be a maniacal and productive killer. I felt excited to face such an opponent.

I knew for sure that he thought there were two more enemies left, including me. He witnessed the start of my battle with the last person I killed, but he never got to see the end of that brawl. With this knowledge of his alleged ignorance, I planned on using that to my advantage. It was a risk, but I’m prone to taking those.

Satan never declared any rules of partnering up. In fact I bet he must encourage that, just to see the two remaining people left to betray each other, and commit more sin than Hell can carry. I planned on making my last enemy believe that there were in fact two of us left. I would create two different types of diversions that would throw the enemy off. With this at hand, I could strike with the art of surprise.

I reached inside my pockets, and pulled out my last two remaining grenades. I managed to scavenge these three days ago. I knew they would serve a great purpose eventually.

“Charge at him, now!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my throat stinging with pain. I really needed to make the enemy believed he was cornered by two people.

I yanked at both of the hooks on the grenades, and swung each of them at opposite sides. They flew, rolled, and landed near the front corners of the small building.

Three…Two…

The grenades detonated. The sound of the explosion pierced my ears. A small fire sparked alive accompanied with a cloud of white and black smoke. Pieces of the building shattered, collapsed, and disintegrated.

I raced across the side of the building. Near that area, I spotted another entrance into the small hut. I planned on sneaking in through there, and capturing the enemy when he least expected it.

My feet stomped against the rough patch of dirt and concrete. I hunched low in order to conceal my moves. My knees burned with soreness, and I kept on breathing heavily, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be exposed just yet. I made it this far. I could continue on.

I glanced at a shadowy figure amongst the vague cluster of mist. Before I could even think about what to do next, a small dagger slashed near my face.

By some miracle, I managed to duck down before the sharp object could slice my nose and eyes off. The weapon did, however, cut a clean line across my forehead. I felt the front of my head trickle with blood. The first few seconds the laceration felt numb on my head. After a while, however, a sharp pain came to disturb and agitate my wound.

A foot shot straight to my stomach and chest. I coughed out a puddle of blood and saliva that same instant. I dropped down on top of the ground, my face grinding against the bumpy concrete. All the air escaped out of my lungs, and for a few seconds I laid there in complete suffocation, as if a pair of hands were strangling my neck. The weight of the past few weeks finally crashed down on my body and mind. Failure seemed like the only route left for me to cross.

A giant boot stomped on top of my chest. This time I couldn’t even cough out any air, since all of it left my lungs long ago. Only a lifeless and tenuous gasp left my blood-soaked lips. The heel of the boot was forced down on my windpipes, the pressure obstructing my bones and nerves. There were only a few times I experienced what it was like to be at the brink of total fatality. This was one of them.

But never had I ever died in those moments. I always found the will to survive.

I stretched my hand down near my right ankle, and wrapped my fingers around the heel of my knife. I pulled the weapon free, and plunged the rapier object deep inside my enemy’s leg.

An atomic screech sounded off in the polluted air. The weight on my chest loosened, and with this in mind, I slid the boot off my breast. I removed the knife from the man’s bleeding leg, and once again stabbed straight into his foot. This time I only heard a muffled wince. I took my weapon back, and went to assault the man one last time.

He shifted elsewhere, however, leaving me to swing at the open air. I almost tripped, since I still felt dizzy from the surprised attack, but I balanced myself in time. I glimpsed around in every direction, but found no sign of my opponent. Whoever he was, he was definitely cleverer than the bunch of idiots I battled.

The knife darted towards me again, but this time I grasped the enemy’s wrist before he could do any more. The tip of the weapon was only an inch away from the bridge on my nose. We stood there for a few seconds before he tried to pull free from my hold.

I reeled him close to me, and shot my knife towards his face. He dodge to the right, however, and came across my right arm. With his free arm, he tangled it around my waist, and the bastard tackled me to the ground. My back smacked against the concrete. The impact made me see stars. My grip on him loosened. The knife I once had slipped out of my hands.

I laid half-defeated, all the energy and effort I thought I had in stored drained out of me from that one unexpected blow. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, the bastard had dexterity.

Without a moment to miss, he picked up the knife I dropped, and sent it straight down my right chest. I let out a howl so immense and loud it must’ve shaken Hell and Heaven itself. Blood burst and drooled out of my mouth. More blood began soaking through the cotton on my shirt. The pain felt unreal. It hurt so much my toes felt it.

My opponent got on top of me, his knees pressed against my biceps. The bastard finally brought his head down so I can see his damn face.

I recognized him instantly. He was famous around the gates of Hell, just as I was. People loved to talk and think about him. He was one of the many people who truly left a legacy in his previous life. The pleasure and privilege to fight such an opponent intrigued me.

It was no one other that the infamous Jack the Ripper. Now an iconic serial killer widely speculated even today. But back then, the land of England feared him like they fear the devil. One thing we both had in common was that we brought the British people a fright like no other.

“It’s you, I say?” he spoke, his accent strong and defiant. I could barely see most of his face since the smog blurred his features, but I could distinguish his presence from a mile away. “Well, I have to admit. I feel quite honored fighting a man like you, hm?”

For one split second, I thought about saying “likewise”, and finding a way to free myself. But an idea came to mind before I could make another mistake.

I didn’t respond. Instead I pretended to be passed out. My eyes remained low and drowsy. I parted my lips a bit as to impersonate a dumb man’s facial expression. I tried my hardest not to cough or breathe in heavily, but the smoke stuffing inside my lungs made the task arduous. I needed to fool Jack the Ripper, however; whatever the cost.

“Have you given up already, hm?” he whispered close to my ear. His soft and moist breath tingled my earlobes. “Well then, I guess I win. But the game’s not done yet. Let’s see now…” He pressed his ear against my chest, near where my heart pumped.

“Ah, so you are still alive, just snoozing a bit at the moment.” I heard my enemy stand up. He circled around where I laid. “Well, I guess I can only kill you with my torture method. Very well, then. I bet the audience would love to see a guy like you getting skinned alive. I’ll surely get a round of applause from Lucifer himself.”

Jack grabbed hold of my hands, and began dragging me backwards. Things turned out exactly as I asked for. I had to resist laughing. I didn’t expect things to become this easy for me.

My back slid against the pebbles on the ground, each and every grain of dirt scrubbing my skin off. By the sound of his footwork, I came to the conclusion that my enemy was pulling my hands while facing my body at the same time. He must be keeping a close eye on me. It didn’t matter in which way he planned on taking me to his lair. I already won regardless.

For one moment, a gathered all the energy and power I could muster from my worn-out body. I transferred all of this strength into the muscles on my hands, wrists, and forearms. Before I could think about it, and doubt my motives, I lunged my arms forward.

The motion of this action caused Jack to fly head first onto the ground. An astonished yell left his lips before he ate the soil on the ground. His forehead crashed hard against the concrete. The sound of bones snapping shrilled inside my ears.

I didn’t give him one moment of rest. I jumped forward, and rocked my knees against his lower back, hoping to break more of his bones and ligaments. My enemy shrieked at the pain, but this further motivated me to inflict more damage.

I dug my nails deep into the back of his head, and lifted his skull up. I repeatedly continued to smash his face against the ground, painting the surface with a crimson shine. Blood and dead cells splattered all over the area. I wanted his face to look like the sight of a train accident by the time I was finished with him.

I stopped once my triceps began aching due to the strain I placed on it. Jack’s body laid limb on the floor, and for a moment I stood bewildered. His face looked unrecognizable. I thought I ruined my opportunity by accidently killing him. I turned his body around, however, and felt for a pulse. I felt a faint one, but it was enough to convince me that I could still win fair and square.

I dragged, carried, and pushed his body all the way to my hidden station. Once we reached inside, I opened the door to the stairwells that lead to the basement, where my form of torture awaited. I kicked Jack’s body down the stairs. I watched with amusement as he tumbled down.

Given the chance to do this on another human soul again brought much joy. During my years in Hell, I never even imagined I would be able to torment someone like this ever again. After every day of pure misery, regret, and agony, it all seemed worth it in the end just for this particular time and place.

I unlocked the gate to my personal torture room, and swung the door fully open. After this I picked up Jack’s useless body, and flung him inside the small chamber. I closed the door once more, and turned the lock.

I personally asked for there to be a clear window so I could see my victim’s face as he perishes and dies. Throughout my years, I’ve seen people’s faces as they bare pain beyond the human body’s capability. But something about doing this to Jack the Ripper really brought a sinister smile to curve up my lips.

I watched as he awoke from his distressed state. He opened his eyes, and gazed around his surroundings with an apprehensive stare. The confusion and paranoia on his eyes entertained me. Men and women all across the globe remembers this man for the nefarious acts he has done, and he has become a model for future serial killers to inspire. And I’m the one that rendered him the most chills down his spine. Not Satan, and not even God himself. I did.

I wonder what killed him first. Was it the toxic gas, or the oven inside the room?

I ended up winning the game fair and square. When Satan and I talked about the deal he offered, I made sure to study the look on the bastard’s eyes. He even seemed a bit intimidated by what he was about to do with me. But at the end, he compromised. He knew the great things I would do, and that I would be the one to truly bring Hell on Earth.

Have you ever wondered where demons come from? Hell doesn’t just spit them out from the depths of the underworld like immigrants trying to enter a new country.

You have to win the game in order to become a demon. Every year, one out of the billions of people in Hell escapes out of the world of torture, and returns back to the start of it all. You’re job, at this point, is to possess and haunt the world that misunderstood you. The reason you’re in hell is because you were misguided, and the world treated you like garbage. So you did the things you had to do, and because of that, your unfortunate souls gets locked in the worst prison known to mankind. Because the world failed to support and help you, you must now suffer.

But, if you win the game, you’re given the chance of vengeance. You can redeem yourself, and make those who hurt and wrecked you suffer the same punishment you experienced. You give back to Earth all of your pain, and you make sure they never forget it.

That’s how demon invade this Earth. If you ever see one, and stare at one dead in the eyes, you’re going to be looking at the eyes of a winner. You’re going to know that they experienced it all, and that nothing could be as worse as Hell. So don’t even bother attempting to fight or defeat them. They needed to murder their own brethren, fight against all odds, and endure torture beyond anything in this world in order to come back to Earth. You stand no chance against a demon. Especially against me.

So I write this as a warning to everyone in this world. Be prepare to feel my wrath. Especially you, Germany. I had you on my mind since the very beginning.

I, Adolf Hitler, come back to finish what I started. 