Blood Games
By Heimdallr, The One Who Watches Out For Ragnarok.

Chapter I
Let the Games Begin

Markus awoke abruptly, rather groggy, & quite tired. His head was pounding harder than a Texan oil drill. Where was he? As he slowly lifted himself, he noticed he was laying a small pool of blood, in which he could see his reflection. His face was bruised and cut, his hair ragged and his goatee had at least another ½ inch that he did not remember. How long was he out? He tried to remember, but when he did, his head began to pound and hurt with the ferocity of a blooded shark.

- 12 Hours Earlier -

He sort of remembered something. He was on the phone with his daughter, talking about the recent divorce of him and his wife. Markus started pacing but noticed that the window was open. Markus never opened the window when it was stormy like this.

"Hold on Caroline, I'll call you later.", He said as he hung up warily. Maybe if he could get to the kitchen, then he could reach his 9mm. He had hope. Markus got as low as he could and started moving slowly, creeping along the wooden floor, so he wouldn't be seen or heard. That's when he heard his window slam shut. He rolled forward, rising to a dead sprint. He would not fall to this intruder while he could fight. He jumped and slid across his marble island, and reached into the drawer containing the pots and pans. He hurriedly found his small Beretta 9mm, handy for quick damage to unarmored foes, and covering fire for those who could afford armor. He lifted another pan, and grabbed the small 17 bullet clip. That gave him 18 shots, because he was smart enough to always keep one chambered.

"Come out, you son of a bitch!" He called out to his yet unknown assailant. He could hear something, it sort of sounded like a re-breather. He popped out from behind his cover as quickly as he could, and fired at where he heard the noise. "… Shit, this is gonna suck ..." is all he could think as he heard the metal on metal of his bullet colliding with a grenade. The room started filling with a green gas. It made him cough and choke, it was tear gas but there was more to it. Markus was slowly losing consciousness, this bastard was smart. He tried to move but as he did his limbs gave way and he fell over.

"Wh-Why...?" Markus barely managed to get out, as his mind receded into darkness.

"Because, we've got a game to play..." His attacker said through the re-breather…

"... Son of a bitch, where the fuck am I?", He asked the darkness around him as he wiped his bloody face. As he really started to think about it, speakers crackled to life around him, and light flooded the room.

"You are in a place, that will soon dominate your nightmares..." It calmly said with a sort of satisfaction about the situation. "This is my playground, your deathbed, unless you play well, of course. Although, with your performance in your apartment, I doubt you'll disappoint me, Markus." He stated in a matter of factitious manner.

"How do you know my name?! Who the fuck are you?!" Markus shouted, alarmed by this revelation.

"You'd know me as the Brutal Exorcist, the priest that was attributed those 300 serial rapings and murders. But I digress, some don't appreciate true art." He said, the satisfaction now a growing impatience.

"What do you want from me? Why am I here?" Markus asked, confused beyond belief.

"I want you to scream, I want to taste your pain, to feel it to the fullest extent I can. It is my pleasure, my passion, all that I live for. It is what God wishes for me. I don't resist the urges he sends me…" The speakers exclaimed almost as if they were as excited as the voice coming out of them.

"... Holy shit ..." Markus thought aloud, his shock barely containable. He dropped to his knees, as he processed the situation.

"Any last words, while God can still hear them? Once we begin, we might be too loud." The Exorcist said, giddy as a schoolgirl. This was worth the wait. Soon, he'd feel the pleasure of release. Markus silently rose from his knees as the shock started to subside. He steeled himself for what he was about to experience, he had a feeling he'd need all the courage he could muster. "Well, then. Let the game begin..." The Executioner exclaimed in pure delight, as he would enjoy this quite greatly...