Chapter 1: My Name
'Drip, Drip, Drip!'
The sound of my tears is the only thing I can hear in this barren, pitch black room. My sobs are chocked down in my own meal tunnel, as I stare into nothing. What did you expect; a pupa that is filled with hate, rage, and madness? Who culled all her brothers and sister in the RINGS OF THE DARK CARINAVAL'S TENTS?! Well, sorry to burst your fucking dream bubble motherfucker. I ain't all up and like that. At least not now I ain't. I'm only 3 and a half sweeps old; a wiggler. I should still be with my Mara, a jade blood, tasked with taking care of me. They took her away when that damn hemospectrum came out. Now I'm alone, with no one to coddle me, to hold me, fight away the night terrors. I have nothing.
CREAK! SLAM!
"Get up motherfucker! Time to get your ass out into the ring and 'perform'. HONK!" A large, massive hand reached out and grabbed me by the hair, dragged me out of the cell and down the barely lit hallway. I have a dazed look on my face as I gaze at the dry blood covering the walls and ceiling. All the motherfuckin' colors of the hemospectrum. I was told that this was what the mirthful messiahs wanted. And that we as subjuggulators need to uphold all that we were schoolfed. My thoughts were cut short as I was tossed into the 3rd ring in the middle of the dark purple tent. This was the only thing I liked about the indigo blood trails. The tent was beautiful! SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL! Light purple strips over an indigo tent. All the colors of trolls blood in ribbons hanging and looping on the ceiling. The rings made of gold and silver with light, with warm sand in the middle. Ah, how I love the main tent. I looked to my left to see him. The Grand highblood! The ruler and most mirthful of all of us! I am one of his many wigglers. Some have already died in these trails; two I'm facing against tonight. I kept my gaze on him until our eyes finally met. I am the only female wiggler of him and I shall gain his favor and surpass them all. I wish to live and see the actual miracles of life. I look at my opponents and see two large male trolls bigger than me. These fuckers actually have weapons. This is complete utter bullshit! I glared heatedly back at the man on the bone throne. Why! What did that motherfucker have against me! I'm trying ain't I! Tears were gathering in my sight holes. I ain't going down without a fucking fight!
When the loud horn sounded I rushed at the weakest looking one and swung my fist at his fist as hard as I could, and holy mirthful messiahs did that feel good! My victory was short lived as I was hammered in the back with a club. The laughter of all my fellow cult members ringed out in the ring. A foot rolled me over and pressed itself hard against my chest! "Scream and beg for mercy you pathetic excuses for a highblood!" Light indigo tears finally came out. My face paint ruining. I, I should just give up. I ain't worth the time of the mirthful messiahs. I'm not good enough to live. 'Get up motherfucker!' Tha-that's not my thought. Someone is using chucklevoodoos on me! I looked to the only glowing purple eyes in the room. I looked around and I saw him. The grand highblood was looking directly at me with a scowl on his face. Why? I thought. 'I want a strong motherfucker to replace me. Sadly, YOU AIIN'T EVEN CLOSE! But you show promise, and that is why I want you to get your ass up and prove me and these other ignorant shits wrong. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR TO YOU MOTHERFUCKER?' Yes! I grabbed the first guy by the foot and pushed him off. Making him stumble back and growl at me. The second, swung his club again, aiming at my face this time. I ducked under his arm and grabbed it, bringing it down to my knee.
The sound of the bone breaking and scream was loud in the now silent tent. I took this time to grab his club away and took a swing to his head. A loud cracked followed and indigo blood splattered everywhere. Even got on my hair and face! Oh my! The look on the face of the second guy was motherfuckin' priceless. The fucker looked like he had pissed his pants. Holy shit the motherfucker did and fuck his scent smelled awful. I ran at him, going in for the kill, but the bastard gained his nerves and knocked the club out my hand, pushing my head down on the ring. I struggled and clawed at his face in till I finally grabbed him by the damn horns and slammed his head down on the ring hard. A crake sounded as well as gargles of a troll chocking on his own blood. I stood and looked around at the shocked faces of the indigo-ish purple bloods. The grand highblood nodded and cheers, honks, and laughter rammed my hear ducts. I let out my own terrifying honk. My name is KURLOZ MOTHERFUCKIN' MAKARA and my life starts now!