These screams are the sounds of ultimate suffering
Indescribable pain
Bodily, mindly
Screaming in vain
Nobody hears
Nobody's there
It's the final loneliness
It's the time for you
To finally leave this world
Material world
Based on greed
It was inevitable. After all the bad guys always loose. And the baron felt a bittersweet sensation, tingeling in his stomach, knowing what would happen next. He had been so selfassure. All the way through had he been 100 sure that he would conquer, and then all it took to bring him down was this young boy and a riddiculous phenomenom called love. Praxis had never been an fan of love. He had always been a man of action. A proud man. He had never considered himself evil, though. No it wasn't that simple. The world isn't always just black and white, but a mix of many complicated point of views. Some unnamed and invisible for the human eye.
The steady growing amount of onlookers cheered and screamed. To Praxis the many voices melted into just one, inside his head, reminding him on what was on the bet.
He moved closer to the enemy untill they were only inches apart, and then he leaned close and whispered so only the two of them could hear "I'm gonna kill you Jak! And then I'm gonna kill everyone you love. Your girl, your friends, and even your filthy little rat!"
The baron looked into the eyes of his enemy and saw pure hatred. It made his body stir and his muscles tense. He smiled, and enjoyed with great satistaction as he felt adrenaline mix with his blood. It was almost like being high on drugs. The adrenaline pumped louder and outclosed all other sounds. He could only just hear his enemy scream back at him. "Come and get me Praxis!"
And with hat Praxis let out a combat-yell and lifted his hand to smash it into the head of his enemy. And he hit straight on! Jak were slightly taken aback, at the sudden pain on his left cheek, but he quickly gathered himself and attacked. But the Baron was prepared for it, and dodged Jak's fist, sending him flying into a wall, head first. He let out a small groan and fell limp to the ground. The baron hurred to Jak's side and kneeled. "You're mine now! And so are your friends. Who shall i kill first? What about that girl of yours eh? Too bad she's so pretty. Perhaps i should have some fun with her before i end her miserable life? I'm gonna make her scream my name. And then right before I kill her, I will tell her about the terrible unmerciful death you suffered under my hands.!"
Then something happened. It happened so fast that Praxis didn't even register it before Jak was back on his feet again. But it wasn't Jak this time, and yet it was. Right in front of Praxis stood the monster he had created three years ago in the prison, radiating dark vibes. Everyone could sense it. And it had horns and it's fingernails looked sharp enough to cut up metal. But the most intimidating about this creature was it's eyes. It's eyes were midnight black and yet it was almost like they were glowing red. It was impossible to read the emotions hidden beneath, and yet The baron almost felt what the dark version of Jak must had been feeling. He felt something that could only be hate, and small stains of sorrow and loneliness. But half a second later the hate owershadowed everything.
His vision blurred, and he felt a sudden dizziness. Slowly, Praxis' eyes gained their ability to see clearly, and he gulped at what he saw. The enemy was standing close up against him, with his hand carved deeply, in Praxis' stomach. And then the pain came. All at once, merciless, making the ever so strong baron scream. But he wouldn't beg for his life. He was after all, a proud man.
When Jak removed his hand, the blood splattered on the ground like a waterfall. The barons body were emptying for blood faster than he thought it was humanly possible. And as the blood vanished, so did the pain, untill praxis could no longer feel a thing, and the last drop of blood fell to ground. His legs collapsed, and he fell into the arms of Jak, whom grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. The blackness in Jak's eyes faded, and the monster uttered it's last words: "I win! Thank's for creating me, so i could kill you!"
This was ultimate suffering. Both the physical pain from having your body torn apart and your guts ripped out, and the emotional pain from having noone to love you, and everyone cheering because of your demise.
And that was how it was. There was no one there for him to help him cope with the indescribable pain, and there was no one there to kiss away the single teardrop that rolled down his cheek as his heart pumped it's final blood, and he died slowly, ever so slowly, alone, in the arms of his enemy.
Because the good people always win.