Chapter Three:
Feel Like A Monster
He hadn't had a lot of experience with therapeutic activities, but nothing ever worked like the Pits.
Soul trembled against the wall of the makeshift pit Black*Star had led him to, at his request. They had spent the car ride over in silence, Black*Star unwilling to ask, and Soul unwilling to explain the sudden need for a fight, the need to slam his fist into someone else, someone who wanted to hurt him, so he could hurt them back.
You thrive in the darkness, you always have.
The red man's voice was roaring in his ears tonight, and he just had to make it stop. So, when Black*Star had stopped the car outside of the pit, Soul and reached for his bag, and pulled out the mask that he carried with him no matter where he was. It was the mask of a demon, bright red, the face of the mask looked as if the skin had been ripped off of it, and it wasn't making a mean face, it was screwed up like it was in pain, screaming eternally as long as someone wore it.
"Whoa…that's…" Black*Star's eyes were wide, and Soul couldn't look at him. "Eater?"
"Yeah."
"Damn, when Reaper goes shopping, he doesn't go for the generic brand. I thought you were dead."
"They all do."
"So…are you sure you want to go back in there?"
"Oh yeah. I have to." Soul looked up at him, smirk on his face giving the blue haired boy a little more confidence in the snowy haired kid. He pulled off his shirt, leaving himself just in the dark jeans, and he stretched, popping his slouched over form back into its rightful place. He ran his hands through his hair and tied the mask on his face.
"Do you have a Meister?"
"Fuck that." Soul snarled, and looked towards the building. "Just three rounds, and then I'm out."
When he'd signed himself up, the bookie stared at him in awe, obviously not expecting to see that mask around the circuits ever again. But, he did his job, and he got Soul into the rounds. Black*Star pulled open his trunk, and rooted out a plain black mask, that was only decorated by one golden star on the front. He followed Soul into the Pit, an old abandoned high school, the gym having been converted into a bloody battlefield.
Finally, the scary monster of a man who ran this pit made his way to the front. He looked sickly, his skin almost blue, and his lifeless eyes scanned the room full of people "Alright! Eater vs. Fire and Thunder." He boomed, giving the fighters five minutes to get to the area. At the mention of his name, a collective shockwave echoed through the gym, and Soul bowled his head, knowing that this was risky, but feeling confident enough that after this fight, he could stop, for good.
Black*Star, mask blocking his emotion, slapped Soul on the back as he headed into the arena. Even the ref gave him a second glance as he stood in the center. The blue man grinned, and gave Soul a pat on the back. "Welcome back, Eater."
Two kids ran into the pit, making Soul freeze. They were 14 at the oldest, both of them thin, and the little girl's lips protruded out, her eyes downcast. The boy however, had a scowl on his face. He stood in front of the girl, eyes trained on Soul's mask.
Fuck, they're just kids.
Those kids are the competition, you want to eat this week, right?
Fuck you, I don't need the money, I've got a job.
Some job, you beat up her ex-boyfriend. These people used to fear you.
Snarling, Soul shook his head, and faced the two kids. They were in the pit, they knew the risk, and this obviously wasn't their first fight, so why was he ever questioning it? If it had been last week, he would've been halfway through his battle plan for them.
"Ready?"
Soul nodded, the red man laughing in the back of his mind.
The twins nodded, grasping each other's hands.
"Go!"
Faster than he had expected, one twin was behind him, and the other was in front of him. They both slammed their palm into his back and chest respectively. The sheer force behind the attack, along with the synchronization, and exact mirroring of each other's movements brought Soul to his knees, along with a splattering of blood that lined the inside of his mask.
Fuck.
Just Kids huh? That didn't feel like a kid's hit. Finish them off! The red man screamed, and Soul snarled beneath the Demon's face, and he lunged for the kid in front of him. He grabbed the child in his arms, and rolled away from the other, holding one captive, and meeting the eyes of the one behind him. The boy, Fire, looked shocked, and then he just looked incredibly angry.
"Let her go."
"Throw the fight."
"Let her go!"
"Throw the fight or I snap her neck!" The mask muffled his voice, twisting it, turning him into the very image he was wearing. Fire's face dropped in shock, and in his arms, Thunder sunk her teeth into his arm. He kept his grip on the girl, not letting her wiggle free. Fire clenched his teeth, unable to see Eater's real eyes under the mask, preventing him from gauging just how serious his competition was about killing his sister.
"Fine! We call it!" Fire signaled to the blue ref, who only nodded, signaling the end of the fight. Soul immediately released the girl, and she ran to her brother, hiding behind him. Around him, the crowd bounced between cheering, and yelling abuse to the fabled fighter. Eater was known for his lack of discrimination between competitors, be they male, female, old, young or sick, Eater had never been known to go easy on anyone.
The two children ran out of the area, and Soul stood in the middle, shaking with adrenaline, waiting to be released in a real fight, a serious fight. The blue man walked back into the area, holding up his hands to calm the roaring crowd. "Alright, alright, calm down! Next up, Jack the Ripper Vs. Eater!"
Soul's head shot up, and his questioning was confirmed as a tall man, mostly naked except for some strategically placed black leather strips slunk into the area. His mask was pale, and split by his mouth, and held together with string. His nose was long, looking a lot like a stinger. His hands were adorned in razor claws, that caused Soul to smirk.
"Ripper huh? I thought you were out of the pits. Heard you got a Meister."
"Meister not here." Jack opened his mouth, his long tongue running against his bladed fingers.
"But you get to keep the weapons?"
"Still an Area fighter." The blue man sighed. "Technically he can keep them."
Soul zeroed in on his mask, and the strange sign above it. Oh. He's with the Kishin. Figures.
"Eater, ready?"
"Yeah."
"Jack the Ripper, ready?"
The creature only ran his tongue over his blades again, looking at Soul like he was dinner.
"Go!"
Instantly, reaper sprang for him, but Soul was expecting that. He crouched down until the monster was close enough to him that he threw his fist up, getting his arm sliced mildly in the process. Ripper was thrown off of him, and pushed back a little, collecting his bearings; he charged Soul faster, blades aiming straight for his chest. Quickly, the albino dropped to his back, as the creature overshot, using too much power, and completely flowing over Soul, leaving his chest open. Soul threw both of his feet into Ripper's chest, and watched as the freakishly skinny man was thrown off of him once more, onto his face.
Soul jumped up then, and dove onto Ripper's back, pinning his arms at the elbow joint with his knees. Ripper thrashed, but he was skinny, underfed, something that wasn't uncommon for an Arena Weapon. Meister to Meister, none of them cared about the fighters who went into the area for them. Win or lose, the fighters were usually treated like shit.
How sad, the way you creatures are treated. The voice echoed in Soul's head, causing him to tense up completely, hating those rare moments when he actually agreed with the fucking demon in his head. Put him out of his misery.
Shut the fuck up.
PUT HIM OUT OF HIS MISERY, NOW!
Soul let out a scream, and moved to reposition his body, freeing one of Ripper's hands, but it was worth the risk. With the new position, he was able to slam his fist into the base of the creature's neck, hard. Ripper screamed, and sent his arm behind him, the blades scraping against Soul's back. He groaned as he felt the slippery heat of his blood drip down his back, and anger overtook his strategic mind. Again, he slammed his fist into the base of Ripper's neck.
And again.
And again.
The creature continued to scream, and the crowd roared in their approval, and Eater, win in sight, laced both his hands together, and ignoring the blades that shredded the skin of his back, he slammed his conjoined fists to the base of Ripper's neck, feeling the snap under his hands, and the final scream of the Ripper.
The entire crowd screamed in their approval, and Soul got off the body, shakily standing through the pain, as the blue skinned man came over, and gave the signal for the end of the fight. Behind him, without even realized the boy had appeared, Black*Star's hand was on his back. Soul looked back at him, eyes invisible under the mask, and the blue haired boy shook his head. "I don't know about the third fight, you're pretty beat up."
Soul only nodded, and looked over at the Pit owner. "I throw the next one."
The man slapped his back, unable to see Soul's wince under his mask. "Yeah, get out of here kid. The Kishin's men will send this info back pretty quick. Get out of here. And if you ever need anything, remember, the name's Sid."
Soul held out his hand, and Sid gripped it. "Thanks man." He spoke before turning away, and hauling ass out of here, Black*Star behind him. They ran to the car, waiting until they were a few miles away to rip off the mask. The younger boy sighed, and drove to the nearest Taco Bell, parking the car. Soul opened the door, breathing deep as the thrill rushed out of his body, and the intense exhaustion settling over his bones, the desire to sleep replacing his blood. Slowly, he wiped the blood off his face and reached back for his shirt, pressing it against the blood still shining on his back. Black*Star sat with his arms on the steering wheel, eyes facing forward as Soul tended to his wounds. "You…" The blue hair ducked down a little. "You don't mess around, huh?"
"You been to a lot of Pit fights?" Soul asked, eyes closed as he continued to remind himself to breathe.
"No, not many. If I go, it's a Shibusen Pit, not an independent."
"Yeah, it's different in my circuit. We kill each other. We always kill each other. If I wanted to live, I was going to have to kill him."
"You didn't kill those kids."
"They're still kids. Someone will get them out of the independent sooner or later, they'll get a Meister, they'll be alright."
"And the last guy?"
"He was going to kill me if I didn't kill him."
"You had him pinned."
Soul glanced back at Black*Star, who was looking at him confused. "So…?"
"So why did you kill him?"
"Felt bad for the poor bastard. He was an Arena fighter. He was all bone, and he was fucking crazy. His Meister didn't deserve to keep running him to death."
Black*Star nodded, and leaned back in his seat. "That…that is so fucked up dude."
With a shark toothed grin, Soul laughed. "I know. Believe me, I know."
"So why do you do it?"
Burgundy eyes narrowed as he considered his friend's question. "Because…because I had no other choice, I guess?"
"Hm." Black*Star grunted, before shaking his head and starting the car. "Well, at least now I know you really can protect Maka, from anything. Put your shirt on and get in the car Eater, I'll buy you a damn taco."
It was nearly four thirty in the morning when Soul finally walked back into the Albarn household. He made sure to be damn silent. If he ran into Spirit, he'd just say he took care of something he would have approved of, but running into Maka, that would be a little more difficult to explain. He closed the door behind him, silently, and he made it almost to the kitchen table before his back started to protest the movement. He chewed the inside of his mouth, and decided that crashing on the couch would be a much better choice than trying to sneak into the guest room. Quietly, he made his way into the living room, and paused when he heard soft breathing. Scanning carefully, he saw a tangled mess of black hair on the couch, hidden under blankets and pillows, in her own little nest. "Maka?"
The nest only muttered in response.
"Hey, Maka. What's up? Why are you sleeping on the couch?"
His charge's eyes opened slowly, and her face was the very definition of sleep. It was flat, and confused, and she kept looking around the room, trying to find out what exactly she was doing awake, when she finally looked up at him. "Soul?"
"Yeah, what are you doing on the couch?"
"I wanted to apologize to you." She explained, sitting up and yawning. "But you took for freaking ever."
"Apologize? For what?"
"For chewing you out today, I wasn't made at you, more like you as a representation for your gender. But you haven't done anything to me, so I shouldn't have done that to you." Maka frowned, picking at one of the blankets that made up her nest.
Shaking his head, Soul sat down next to her, and flicked her head. "You little moron, you have nothing to apologize for."
"Yeah, but…"
"Seriously. No problem." Soul smirked. "Now go to bed, you don't need to stay here."
"Okay." Maka sighed and sat up, crawling out of the blankets. "Oh by the way Soul, thank you." She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled before walking away, leaving Soul by himself, and plenty of blankets. With a secret smirk, he shook his head and fell backwards, letting himself become lost in the heat left over from Maka's body, and the undeniable scent he couldn't describe as anything but pink.
Before she fell into her own bed, cold from lack of use, Maka flipped on her life, and froze when she saw the bright red smear left on the switch. She checked her hand, and was shocked to see it covered in blood; even more shocked when she didn't find a single slice marring her skin.
Soul? Where the hell did you go tonight?
She hated her job. She absolutely hated her job, everything about it. She hated it, she hated how she had to spend her days hidden in the background of all the Pits, never really able to get to the Arenas, where she would much rather be. But, it wasn't her place. She'd get there, but only as long as she took her orders now.
Not that it made Eurka feel any better about her situation now.
Her job, her job was even worse when she had something to report.
She was going to report now; mask pulled from her face, leaving the circular marks on her face as identification enough. Her mint colored hair flowed behind her as she slowly made her way to one of the more grandiose houses in Death City. Extremely extravagant, but terrifying in its own right, the house was dark, and it created a shadow over the city. With an audible gulp, she made her way to the front gate, and wrapped her fingers around the intricate wielding of the barrier and she waited for her contact.
Finally, slipping down the hill, a thin excuse for a human came lumbering towards the gate, their hand gripping their arm as they got closer, and Eurka groaned weakly. Of course, her contact had to be this kid.
"Crona."
"M-Miss Eurka. W-what do you have to report?" Crona asked, eyes never looking up. The kid's hair was cut raggedly, and it was pale pink in color. His eyes shifted from side to side, never looking at Eruka.
"Well, it's kind of important Crona…is Medusa inside?"
"She…she said for me to talk to you."
"Fine, whatever." Eruka rolled her eyes, and looked at the kid. "Tell her that Jack the Ripper is dead."
"H-he is? B-but how?"
Eruka gripped the gate with both hands now, eyes boring into Crona's. He flinched, but tried to keep the eye contact. "Eater is still alive, and this is the second one of the Kishin's warriors that he's killed. Tell Medusa that he's still alive."
"O-okay. I will." Crona nodded, and looked up at the house. "S-she…she won't like this."
"I know…I know…"
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