All around him all he could hear was 'Fight, fight, fight.' Their chanting was so cold, and it pressed on his mind. Looking down on the other man in front of him, he thought about what kind of monster this would make him…He remained kneeling by the bloody man, whose pleas gone unheard past the chanting. He groped out, and found something under his hand. A cold, sharp rock, the size of his fist. He pulled it closer, and looking at the gray stone in his hand. "Finish it." Whispered a voice behind him. He didn't think twice as he raised the stone over his head, and as he did, he questioned himself, "Am I really doing this?" before bringing down the stone onto the other man's skull.