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So irritating, everything is so irritating. I lost my shirt, and later on my pants, in the middle of a fight. Almost got punched in the face because my opponent took advantage of the distraction and swung, then I got blood on my boots. So yes, the situation I find myself in is irritating; what makes it even more irritating is the fact that my misfortune stemmed from my ill-tempered, pink haired, sorry ass 'best friend', because he thought I would be fine fighting without the lock on my pants, the same lock I wear everyday to keep my clothes on, and hid it away to prove a stupid fucking point coming from that moronic brain of his, which might I add is the size of a damn pebble, and finds my suffering comical. Wow, how fucking amusing.

I need a smoke. But, sadly they aren't easily obtained. I have to do either crazy shit, or stupid shit to get my hands on a piece of paper that's slowly killing me internally. It might take my breath away quicker than the sick fuck working this opperation. What a blessing that would be.

I cruised around the long erie hallway avoiding pools of blood, fresh and dry, and slouched, lifeless bodies that leaned against the walls.

Cells, cells, and cells, with the occasional cage. Cells for as far as the eye can see. Muffled screams in the air, quaking bodies rocking back and forth, the uneven pattern of water droplets hitting the concrete floor.

Welcome 'home' to me.

I came to a stop at the end of the unnecessarily long hallway in front of an 8 foot, cold iron door. I stare at it and it stares back at me with the same amount of malice as I do. The guards on the side seemed to have gotten annoyed because they proceeded to use their metal spears to 'threaten' me into opening the door and going in.

Like those things could ever threaten me after the messed up shit I've seen since I was a child. How annoying.

I opened the magically enhanced door and crept in the room letting the guards shut it behind me after walking in.

The room was dark, of course, and was pretty small for two people but it worked. The walls were bare and dirty. Scuffed with dirt, grime, and dried blood as well as the floor. The wall facing the 3,928 pound door, which is extremely unnecessary, had a small square window with three thick metal bars blocking any attempts to escape.

I heard quiet snickering. Like someone was trying to hold in an outburst. The laugh was soft but intimidating, crude, and merciless. 'I know that bullshit snicker'.

I whipped my head toward the direction of the laugh and met amber eyes that glow in even the darkest of places; those eyes were directed toward me, filled with smug amusement and mischief.

"Did you enjoy my suffering, you piece of shit?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"How could I not ice princess. It was fucking hillarious." He responded mockingly. I can hear the smirk in his voice. 'That little-'

"I'll fucking kill you."

Laughter rang all throughout the confined space. Cruel, smug, teasing. I swear there is something wrong with us. How could we, knowing what we know, doing what we did, experiencing what we had, still laugh like this. Laugh like there is nothing wrong when we are in heavier confinement then the rest of the fighters. When we are covered in the blood of others, wearing collars on our necks to block our magic so we can't think of escaping. When we have been not only living in hell, but creating hell, embracing that same hell...because we have no other choice but to call hell a home.

How dare we. After all of the people we killed. After all of the suffering we caused. After all of the suffering and tourture we endured for disobeying order. After all of the blood we not only spilled but bathed in. After all of the screams, the night terrors, the nights where we wouldn't speak. Just sitting there, reminiscing better times. Better times that are now fading into blur. After all of the nights we made plans. Plans that involved death on both of our ends. Plans on how to end this suffering; we spoke about it like it was a Christmas miracle and we are waiting for it to come.

It seems like we've broken. Maybe even broken upon no repair. Well it doesn't matter anymore. After all, I stopped giving a shit the moment that happened. As long as my pink haired wildfire doesn't die in the ring, which is highly unlikely, I won't give a shit. We'll stop giving a shit.

Maybe we don't deserve to laugh like this after the bodies we piled up over the years. But, who the fuck cares. It's not like we do.

~

Fairy Tail, a magic guild standing tall and proud in the center of Magnolia. The usually joyous, loud, destructive guild was eerily silent as their master Makarov spoke to them about something far more important than their previous activities.

Makarov walked out of his office onto the balcony overlooking the guildhall, standing tall with a serious, annoyed, and if you looked hard enough, grim expression on his face as he stood patiently for the wizards to settle down. They eventually did and took in the aura surrounding their master dubbing the situation to be as serious as it can get.

"Children, the council has given Fairy Tail our allied guilds an important mission in which we have to obtain two individuals from the world's largest and most dangerous underground fighting ring. They take children and raise them in hell for their own sick entertainment. It is our job as Fairy Tail wizards to stop this and save them. Is what i'd like to say. But, sadly that is not the case."

Silence enveloped the guild hall completely as they waited with bated breath for their master to continue.

"The council is not sending us to save these individuals but to obtain them, restrain them, and turn them into the council so they can be used as weapons for their military."

As Makarovs words traveled the guild hall, gasps of surprise and horror accompanied it. They were outraged of course, but couldn't turn down a mission from the council no matter how hard they tried. If they did that would give the council an excuse to make Fairy Tail a dark guild and that was the last thing anybody wanted.

"We will be meeting our allied guilds representatives in 3 days for a discussion on the mission so be mentally prepared."

The short elderly man pointed to the bar where Mira Strauss, Fairy Tails resident demon, managed. The white haired mage had a list in her hand on mages that will represent Fairy Tail in the meeting and relay information.

Erza Scarlet

Lucy Heartfilia

Gajeel Redfox

Levy Mcgarden

Laxus Dreyer

Freed Justine

Warren Rocko

The guild continued their previous activities from before keeping the mission in the back of their mind for later conversation. It was far too soon to speak about something so serious.

~

The participants on the paper met up in the library to discuss the situation they found themselves in.

"I don't like this mission"

"None of us do blondie."

"Then what will we do about it?"

Levy's response bloomed a flame of determination in their eyes. They were going to find a way to fix this, whether the council liked it or not.

~

'Dark- everything is dark and stuff. I can't help but strip.'

Drip, drop, drip, drop….

'It's that damn sound again?'

Drip, drop, drip, drop...

'Seems like I always gotta hear this shit.'

Drip, drop, drip, drop…

'Drip drop my ass. I hate it.'

Drip, drop, drip, drop

'I hate this sound.'

Drip-

'I'll never stop hating this sound.'

Drop-

'It's fucking disgusting-'

"Gray...?

Hey Ya'll!

Sorry it took so long to update I had a really bad writters block and I'm a huge procrastinator so I won't be updating every Sunday although I might fall into that schedule sometime in the future when I'm used to this story writing stuff. This chapter isn't as good as I wanted it to be but so I'll try harder next time. Also should I make a separate srory for smut. Idk I might write smut for this but I've never written it before. If you want me to ill practice. I would also love it if you pointed out and misspellings, bad punctuation, and/or bad grammar.

Bye bye my fellow weebs.