IV.
Jacobs Manor... Meanwhile
'Dinner will be ready in a few bells ser.' the girl-cook with a dipped head, standing across the man's table. He nodded and watched her scamper off.
'How's your mother and sister doing?' he abruptly asked causing her to squeal at the question. She looked down and ran her hands down her apron - her fingers clamy and wet - she turned to face the man and spoke.
'The... They're well ser. Mam's sickly again and my brother - he's wantin' to join the Night Eyes to make some income.' she said - a nigh whimper.
'The Night Eyes? He can come join us here, I will pay him well and you both can buy your mother medication.' Jacobs said as he reclined into his seat.
'I... Yes... I will talk to him ser. I will. I will.' the girl glimmered as the veteran nodded. 'Thank you ser. Gods bless yer.' she said as she left, hurriedly running off to the kitchen staff to tell them the news and most importantly her friend - who she surprisingly hadn't seen the whole day - about the kindness of their boss.
A few chimes later...
'Where's Sav?' Jacobs asked the guard he'd summoned. The southern man shrugged and looked down, 'He's at the Blood Pits... Relieving his itch.'
'I see. Well go find him and bring him here. He's been gone the whole day and I don't trust you incompetent idiots with my life.'
'Sure thing ser. I'll go look for him.' the guard said as he stepped out the office, cursing the old man under his breath as he cut across the manor and heading toward the Blood Pits - without a carriage.
'Gods this will take forever!' he cursed as he stroked through the city toward the Pits - the bloodliest, merciless palace of corpses and death, a vile place that was the stuff of foreign men's nightmares. He cringed at the thought of it.
The Blood Pits.
V.
Another body slumped over - dead - a cleaver tore through his mid-section and split him into two of him, a butcher's technique applied to the method of death. 'And another one!'
The Bull stirred the senses of the crowd as he stepped into the arena, he looked up at the burly wall of flesh with its massive cleaver in sight - it was another one of his regulars - Sav. He never failed to disappoint. As the chorus of the crowd drowned even the fresh air, the progenitor of the Blood Pits grilled as he spoke over the noise.
'Ladies and Gentlemen, we have watched This Man. This Monster. This Mountain tirelessly cleave through all the obstacles I have placed against him! He is a true warrior!, a true bloodless bastard!' he said, maddening the wanton roars of the spectators seated, watching eagerly.
'Is there no other challenger willing to fight this man? No... Such a shame.' the Bull somewhat bemoaned. He turned and asked if Sav wanted to take his pay now and just leave yet the giant simply grunted and told him he wanted more. He wanted more opponents to fight; to kill.
'But there aren't any others. You've scared them off.' The Bull said with an amused tone. The noise of the crowd didn't deter his conversion with Sav.
'Find some...' grunted the hulking mass of flesh as he lumbered out the arena, dragging his bloodied cleaver along with him.
The Bull called what could be considered an intermission and disappeared down into the cages. He quickly gathered the remaining fighters and combatants still willing too go into the arena to fight and ask.
'Fuck no! Didn't you see what he did to the last guy.' one commented.
'We know what we sign up for when we come here but - but I'd rather be mauled by bears than get killed but that... Thing!' another one cried out as he shook his head.
'We won't fight him. We can fight one another but not him.'
'C'mon boys!, I'll make it worth it and you know it. The Bull never disappoints his customers, you know I'm good for it.' The Bull said, each one of his 'customers' still refusing his offer. He even opted to double their pay if they won - something he never did - but they still refused.
'I'll fight him.' an all too familiar voice rang. The Bull smirked, how he loved to hear that suicidal voice - always ready to part with his life was the kid. The Bull turned to look at the regular face that was Senghor and smiled, all the other fighters didn't - the young man was mad!
'If it isn't one of favorites. But... Where's other one, the short one you always fight with, not here? Ah.. Doesn't matter! I know you're still good on your word. Watched you grow up in that arena meself you know!' The Bull said as he looked up at the mercenary.
'So when will I fight him?' Senghor quickly cut into the man's speech, causing him to grin.
'Ever the eager one aren't you? You'll fight him after a few rounds, I still need to thin the herd with these cowards here...' he said as he turned to the next two fighters - a burly type of killer and a armoured mercenary - he'd pick out for the next bout in the Pits. He chose them individually and set them up for who they would fight.
The Bull was never known for uniformity. To Senghor and the other fighters it just seemed like he was pushing for fights randomly - as if he wanted them to be quickly come and go so he could bring out that mass of flesh that butchered whoever came before him again.
'You my boy, you'll fight last. I want the night to end with the greatest and bloodiest bout of all! Two of my regulars going at one another - it'll beautiful!' The Bull said; his voice lacking any poetry to it.
'I'll be needing that sword of yours.' - there it was, that spark of the unknown that The Bull was known for. Senghor unholstered his sheathed sword from his back and gave it to The Bull, he took it eager and disappeared back up into the arena - not before having the courtesy to wish them good luck or something akin to it.
'You som' kind of crazy boy?, he'll butcher you...' one of the fighters said as Senghor found a place to sit.
'He tore throu'h my friend like he was handlin' lamb. I'm tellin' you, back out now and don't do it. We all want a show 'ere but not like this. He's a monster, he'll have every ounce of you into strips of meat... Back out now kid!' another said but Senghor didn't listen.
He was as equally scared as they all were. If only they knew it - if only they could see through that hardened demeanour that he put on to put them off.
Gods, what was he thinking listening to Yusis?, he wasn't going to make it through this one. It was his final job and Dira hovered over him - flashing her pale breasts in his face - calling him. He knew it. Clasping his hands together - he heard The Bull's ever ecstatic voice drown out the spectator's hollering as he announced the next fighters.
He looked up and watched them leave and looked down again, the grimy floor was culmination of black, brown and red. A vile color that made him slightly nauseous, he felt his hands become heavy and slick and his body become rigid like stone.
'Don't do it kid... Nothin' short of living rage and insanity can kill that thing. I'm sure you saw him fightin' out there, you know what he can do so don't do it...'
"Rage and Insanity, huh?" Senghor thought as his eyes fell onto the necklace his mother gave him.
"If nothing but rage and insanity can kill him. Than I'll have to be it. I can be angry. I know what anger is. I know what insanity is." the mercenary thought as he stood up and back to pace around the room. His dark-armour seemingly exhumed an aura of darkness -- of anger --that dressed him well. He began to fill his mind with thoughts that made him angry, thoughts that stirred the slumbering beast constantly churning for blood.
He would awaken the animal within. He would become the lord of all - he just had to get angrier.
"Kill... Kill... Kill... Kill..." he chanted mentally, he felt it stir within him. He felt the noise of the outside world die and all that consumed him was crimson in all its bloody shades.
'He's fuckin' crazy... He's out of his fuckin' mind.' one of the fighters said.
'Yeah... He might actually not die tonight.'
'Might -- that's the word for it.'
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