Discipline 1.5
I was drowning.
Everything. It flowed. It sloshed. It fell down around me. All around, I could see nothing but red. Liquid filled my lungs. I tried to cough, to struggle, to breathe. It didn't help. My limbs thrashed in the ruby waters around me. Silent screams of panic tore their way through me.
I didn't have time to think. I didn't even have time to act. I couldn't remember how I got here. In this horrid place filled with nothing but red. Vague thoughts came to my mind, but they quickly fled. More liquid filled my lungs. I could feel a current in the blood. It was almost alive. It was as if something was trying to pull me down, deeper into the depths.
Not like this! I growled, my hands clawing at the red liquid around me. The waters around me fought back, seemingly alive. The liquid's grip did not loosen, only seeming to grab hold of me tighter. It was like a ball of great red snakes, curling around me. Not. Gonna. Die.
In the end though, my struggle wouldn't matter. Whatever had happened for me to end up in this place, had left me exhausted. Tired. Weak. I tried. Good God, I tried, but I didn't seem to get anywhere. For every inch I clawed back upward, the current seemed to only pull me down a foot more. My vision darkened, as something came to my mind.
I saw hands. Rugged and gnarled. They were mine and not at the same time. Confusion flashed in my mind as I limply opened and closed them. One of them, the left, was missing the tip of a finger. I was on the ground. A dull sense of wrongness stuck out to me. I didn't mean to move like that. My eyes scanned back and forth. Everything felt and looked just a little bit off. It was almost like a waking dream. Certain things seemed to stretch off into the distance, distorted almost like I was trying to look through a piece of broken glass. The finer details were all fuzzy and broken. Then, without any input of my own, my body moved.
Stand up.
I stood. The voice echoing in my mind was not my own. It was male, definitively so. It also sounded rough, like someone had decided to eat a five-gallon bucket full of nails for breakfast after smoking an entire truckload worth of cigarettes. The voice scratched and growled as it spoke, almost inhuman in its reverberance. It continued on.
I had to move. Keep them entertained. Keep them happy.
My eyes flicked over to a small booth to my right. Something stirred in my gut. I leaped forward. My body felt light, almost like I was swimming through the air. I looked up. A snarl came to my lips as cheers came up from above. I could see hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people. A cold burning fury came to my heart even as my face slowly morphed into a forced smile. A hand came up, waving to the crowd up above me.
I was in an arena, maybe a coliseum of sorts. I wanted to say that this was just some bad dream, but everything here felt too real for that to be true. I could feel the biting heat of the sun on my skin. The red sand beneath my boots cracked and churned as I walked. My nose wrinkled as it picked up the scent of copper. The noise of the people around me was all-consuming.
A deep breath came from my lips as I looked across the arena.
There stood a man, but to me, he was barely the size of a boy. Then, I noticed something. It wasn't just him. Everything and everyone around me seemed a bit smaller than usual. No, it wasn't that. I was just too big. I tried to crane my neck to the side, hoping to get a better view of the arena, but my body didn't respond. My eyes were firmly planted on the sword-wielding man across from me. He seemingly stuck out like a sore thumb.
When I tried to focus on the finer details of the things around me, it was muted.
Some of the colors were off. Even as I was forced to glance back up at the crowd, I noticed that their face seemed to blur together into some inhuman amalgamation of skin. They didn't seem to actually have any real features. It was surreal. Meanwhile, the gladiator in front of me had perfect features. He was short and stocky. The gut that stuck out beneath his leathers was scarred. Battle-wounds I assumed. His face was too, a series of long white lines running across it. They almost looked like claw marks. His blue eyes were furiously watching me. He spat on the ground in front of me.
"So, now you come to me? Huh, mountain child!" a ragged voice shouted.
Maybe I am dreaming. I thought. It would make the most sense. It could've been another one of those battle-rage-induced visions from before, only this one seeming to be much more vivid. Thoughts for another time.
My head turned to the side. My eyes seemed to bore into the bloodshot ones of the man a few feet away from me. He slowly brought his sword upward, pointing the weapon at me. The tip of the blade was stained red with blood. It looked fresh, but I couldn't say what from. I didn't feel any pain, so beyond the old wounds dotting what I'd seen on my body, I didn't think I was injured. My hands closed into a fist. I could feel the powerful muscles of my body tense. It felt weird thinking of this person as myself, but when you were currently living it, that was the only way to describe it.
I gave him a chance.
"And what will it be then?" The man's voice was filled with rage as he stalked closer. I could see spittle fly from his mouth as he continued, "Did you finally deign me worthy of a fight?"
A word slipped through my mouth. The voice was entirely unlike my own. It was rough and ragged like the one in my head but this one seemed a bit different. It was almost youthful in a strange way. It just couldn't quite reach the same depth as the furious one from before. A younger version of him maybe? Despite the difference, I could tell they were the same person just...different.
I stared at the man before me. A single quiet step was all it took for him to back away.
Calmly, I stated, "No."
-|-]=[-|-
I came to gritting my teeth.
I wasn't in pain. In fact, I wasn't hurt at all. My lips twitched. I could feel them start to slowly drift upwards. The heat in my veins was overwhelming. It felt like someone had replaced my blood with molten metal. I was outright smiling now, my teeth bared to the world around me. I couldn't quite place what I was feeling at that moment. Rage? Power? Bloodlust? Joy? Anticipation? Ecstasy? None of them seemed to fit.
I didn't care though.
I didn't care about any of that. I was too focused. Too in the now. It didn't matter if I lived or died as long as I could keep chasing this feeling. I had...No, I will have more of it. Something within me cracked at that realization. I could almost hear it in my head, shattering like broken glass. Like so many times before, visions of battles long fought tore their way into my head. I didn't try to push them away. I didn't try to fight them. I just stood there, taking it all in as it rushed over me. In fact, I embraced them. I pulled at each one as it came to me, hungrily lapping them up.
Unlike all the times before, I felt in control. I was here. I could feel every muscle in my body as they tensed. The leather coating my axe's wooden handle flexed. I could still feel light wetness traveling down my neck. Freed had shot my ear. I took a step towards him. Then, something changed.
I felt it more than I heard it. Whispers. It was different than the presence of the god or the man from the vision before. They were deep and dark. They all mixed together, like a cacophony of voices blending themselves in my head. They were yelling at me, raging at the world around us. They were many. They were legion.
Then, silence. They all stopped. Anticipation buzzed in my head. I could feel a thousand eyes prickle at my back. I didn't turn. I didn't move. As one, they ordered, Say it.
"Kill..." I murmured.
Freed didn't notice anything that was going on in my head. He didn't even hear me speak. Another gunshot burst out followed by a loud stomp. Dull pain came from my shoulder. Instinct took over, and I dropped to the ground behind the couch. Three more shots rang in my ears. I could hear Freed start cursing as an impotent clicking noise came from his revolver. He fumbled to reload.
However, We weren't alone. With Freed's attention on me, Kiba had charged. The sword in his hand burst into flames as it swung. I could hear metal crashing as Freed cursed again. Pain flared from the mark. Rage burned in me from the floor. I stood back up, vaulting over the couch. I could feel something slowly leak from the mark as I rushed forward. I knew it would be colored red if I were to look down.
"Damn you Sellzen!" Kiba snarled as he was thrown backward. I could barely see the two move as they clashed. Sparks and flames flew as their blades met again.
They were both in the house's small kitchen connected to the living room. There wasn't a lot of space between the two. With each missed or deflected swing another part of the house was damaged. Scorch marks were everywhere. I could smell burnt wood and smoke. For a moment, the two pulled away. I couldn't just stand there. Freed's red eyes flicked over to me as I brought my axe down. Like many times before, the swift man jumped out of the way. I followed up the attack from the ground, trying to leave as little motion as possible between swings. He'd taught me that.
My weapon split the air. Tearing its way toward Freed's right calf. He moved again. Glass shattered as he leaped atop the room's small kitchen counter. I barely had a moment to react as his lightsword flashed before me. I could feel a burning sensation from the bridge of my nose as it passed. Burning pain came from my face. He'd hit me. The voices from before were speaking again.
"Come on Jackie, you gotta be quicker than that!"
It went in one ear and out the other. I didn't say a word. It was just like Freed. Always talking. I shifted my stance, hefting my axe in one hand. The other, I brought low to the ground. Freed didn't react as I picked up one of the half-broken glasses that hold rolled to the floor.
Having gotten no reaction from me, the crazed exorcist turned to Kiba. I could see a cruel smile light up his face as he spoke. Mockingly, Freed said, "And what about you blondie? Am I a little too fast for you?"
The man stopped, slightly cocking his head toward the corpse sitting a few feet away from the couch. The body still lay there, cooling on the wood. A pool of the poor woman's blood was coating the floor around her. I could see the red liquid seep into the wood below her, bubbling as it did. For a moment, gears seem to turn themselves over in Freed's mind. I tightly gripped my axe. His nasal voice came back out after.
"I think I was a little too quick for your girlfriend over there too." He paused, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. A cruel laugh echoed out in silence. His red eyes gleamed. Madness and perverse joy infected them both. Licking his lips, Freed continued, "She got off lucky. If you hadn't shown up, I could've taken my time. Nice and slow."
Kiba screamed throwing his everything into Freed. There wasn't any grace to the blow. It was rage, brutal. I saw Freed move again. Using that infuriating footwork of his to his advantage. The man made it seem like some kind of dance. Kiba used the sword like a bat, cutting it into the counter where Freed once stood. The exorcist only smiled, landing softly at the other side of the room. His laughter bounced off the walls of the house like an annoying bug.
"I'll kill you!" raged Kiba.
The devil rushed the exorcist once again. Kiba's moves seemed more recognizable to me. It wasn't as lightning-quick as before. The devil was getting slower. He was getting angrier too. Light came from his hand, and another sword appeared in it. The blade was long and jagged, looking more like a cut piece of rock than a weapon. He used it like one too. The couch in between the two collapsed as Kiba's blade smashed into it. I could see the piece of furniture fall through the floor as it hit.
Gravity manipulation? I thought before shaking my head. I didn't have time to worry about things like that. I had to move. If I hesitated, I'd die. I knew how Freed fought. All I had to get was an opening.
"Oh come on you stupid fucking devil, can't you just hit me already? I'm getting bored over here!" taunted Freed.
I flung the piece of glassware at his head. His lightsword shot up, knocking it to the side. Furious red eyes locked onto me. Freed opened his mouth to speak. Kiba didn't let him. Creating another sword, the devil lunged forward. The blade was thin and light, almost like a fencing saber. Blood splattered across the floor, as the sword went through Freed's palm. I didn't react to the sight of the blade emerging from the back of the exorcist's hand.
"You fucking fuck!" growled Freed. The man responded like he always did, trying to make distance. In such tight quarters, it was starting to make things harder for him. We had the upper hand here. I knew how Freed fought.
Freed didn't like fighting things head-on. He always jumped around and took glancing blows when we had sparred. Freed claimed it was more fun like that, made things last longer. I knew the truth though, he couldn't take a hit. He usually folded after one or two good ones. Another thing to worry about was Freed's revolver. The exorcist also loved using that gun of his. The six shots inside were deadly to most things. Luckily, he didn't have the time to reload it here. Or rather, I wouldn't let him.
Freed turned to me as I lunged. My axe came down overhead. He brought up his lightsword to meet it. That was a mistake. I could barely see the realization come to his eyes before Freed's arm crumpled. His sword fell from his hands sizzling on the ground. My axe kept going. Freed screamed.
The sound was like music to my ears. The voices were coming back in full force. They were fervent, like some kind of demonic choir. The blade of my axe tore into Freed's right bicep. I heard cracking bone. Flesh was ripped and torn as I pulled it back. The limb fell to the side. I saw jagged bone peak its way through a mess of mangled flesh and cloth. Fresh red blood leaked from the wound, pouring onto the ground below. They were screaming at me now.
One of the voices, louder than all the others, demanded, Say it!
Battle rage coursed through me. I could feel my brain tingle as I moved. A loud laugh came from my mouth. I lightly noted Kiba staring at me. I brought the pommel of my axe down, slamming the point of it through Freed's foot. The exorcist was trying to grab something from his robes in terror. I knew what he was going for, one of his little light bombs. They were more of a flashbang than anything else. I wouldn't let him. I let go of my weapon, leaving it firmly planted through Freed's foot and the floor. A vision of a battle not my own flashed through my mind as I moved.
"Maim." I growled. Something was wrong. I couldn't fathom what, but something was wrong. This, all of it, it was off. None of my fights with Freed went like this. It was...it was easy. This was all so easy. Usually, we'd lay into each other a little bit. I'd win if we went for a battle of attrition, but this was practically a slaughter. I hadn't even had to fire off a single shot. My axe was all I needed. I could feel the pain from my face and shoulder slowly start to disappear. Something metal fell the wound on my shoulder. A small flattened piece of metal plinked on the floor.
Faintly, I could hear Freed speaking. None of it seemed to really settle in my mind. I tackled the man to the ground, laying into him with my fists. My axe wrenched itself free from his foot as we landed. It took with it the bottom half of the man's foot, leaving the limb strewn out in a line from the hole in its middle. The feeling of bloody meat running its way through my fingers felt good. I felt bones crack as I moved, hitting him over and over again. I pulled both of my hands up, interlacing my fingers.
The voice from before called out once again. The words were on the tip of my tongue. I brought my arms down, hammering them into Freed's chest. More blood flew from his mouth. Teeth flew as I continued. Kiba said something to me, but I paid it no mind. He wasn't important. Nothing else was important. The voices were chanting now, all of them. Speaking the same words over and over again, getting louder with each one.
Say it. Say it! SAY IT! SPEAK! LOUDER! DO IT!
I looked down into the scared red eyes below me. Freed, he was crying. I cackled madly. Something pulled at me from behind. I knocked the hand off my shoulder. A silent question came to my mind. What was I doing? For a moment it made me stop. This was too much fun. I ignored it. My hands came over Freed's eyes. My thumbs plunged inward as the man squirmed in agony. I pulled his head up by his eye sockets before slamming it down. He stopped moving. His body lightly twitched and I stood.
"Burn." I seethed, the word spewing out like fire from my mouth.
The other person in the room was outright yelling at me now. I could see his face twisted between anger and fear. He took a few steps back as I walked, pushing him out of the way. Silent, I retrieved my axe. The weapon felt perfect in my hands. Something about it seemed to change as I grabbed it. The light silver of the runes on it seemed to darken and shift. Black smoke billowed out from the blade, falling down to the floor. It pricked at my skin as it rolled over me. I pulled myself over to Freed. He had turned himself over, his one usable arm trying to drag himself away.
I brought the axe up. The words flew from my lips like bitter honey. It tasted sweet, like old red wine.
"Blood..." I started. All the voices were silent. I realized something. It was me. It was only me. They weren't here anymore. The demands were silent. For a single moment, I paused. Then, the words came unbidden from my mouth anyway. I moved as fast as lightning.
Bringing my axe down on Freed's neck, I screamed, "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
Freed Sellzen died, his eyeless head rolling along the floor. A small part of me was screaming that something was horribly, unknowably wrong. That feeling was quickly quashed by the pure adrenaline and ecstasy rushing through me. Power coursed through my veins. I felt good. I felt great even. I was high on life. If this was bad, I didn't care. I felt well and truly free.
More. More. I needed more.
The other man was speaking to me. I couldn't understand any of it. I couldn't even remember his name. He, it wasn't important. Nothing else was. I wanted to see more blood, more of that beautiful ruby red. I turned toward the noise. He stopped talking, staring at me. My arm moved before I even knew it. Axe met sword. I pushed forward, putting my entire weight behind the swing. Joyfully, I laughed.
The sword broke, shattering like glass.
AN: Another cliffhanger? Nah, I'm not doing that to you guys again. I'll have another chapter up tonight. I was planning on having this chapter out last weekend, but I kinda spaced that it was Father's Day. I had a fishing trip planned and I didn't remember till I checked my calendar, sorry about that.
Anyway, the next chapter will be up later tonight, so stay tuned.
Also, please tell me what you thought of this one. I've been building up to this fight for a while, and I hope the payoff was worth it. I kind of see this as the real tipping point for Jack. Whether he intended it or not, his actions here will greatly affect the world he knew around him. We'll be getting into the aftermath of this in the next chapter. I'll just leave it at that though. Like always, please tell me what you thought down below. I enjoy reading reviews.
For a story recommendation today, I think I'll go with the story Noosphere by John Prodman. It's a Cyberpunk 2077 and Warhammer 40K crossover where an Explorator Tech-Priest finds himself in the late twenty-first century. It's pretty good. I'll be talking to you all later on tonight. Until then...
~ciao