The Preying City

Elias looked around. The excitement in the air was overwhelming. Audiences all had this zealous look in their eyes and even a grown man like him found it a bit frightening.

Looking up at the stage, he saw two men grappling each other. There was no referee in the match and he wondered whether there were any rules at all. The fighters were both burly and built well. The bearded fighter was holding the fighter with a scar across his face in a choke hold.

The scarred man's face was turning redder by the second. All he could think of was breaking free and taking a deep breath. His vision was growing blurry and his consciousness slowly slipping away. He flailed his arms around in a desperate attempt.

Watching the fight reach its end, the crowd cheered loudly. The people who had bet on the scarred man began cursing loudly while the others laughed uproariously. The sound rose to a crescendo only to be drowned out by a blood curdling scream.

Everyone directed their attention to the fighting ring where the bearded fighter was rolling around in pain. The screams that escaped him were shrill and high. The scarred fighter lay on the ring, his back resting against the cold surface. His diaphragm heaved up and down with each breath he took and his face slowly gained its original color.

He looked at his opponent and then at his bloody right hand. It just struck him that he had crushed the man's t.e.s.t.i.c.l.e.s earlier. He had been trying to break free desperately and didn't consider the consequences. Now that he had a clear head, he felt cold from within. He looked at the VIP booth and met eyes with the owner of the place.

The owner had a high nose and chiseled face. His blue eyes gave one an impression of familiarity and kindness. He wore a luxurious coat above his shirt and a top hat sat on his head. The neatly combed hair reached down to his shoulder and an ever present smile was plastered across his face. He looked back calmly at the scarred fighter without moving a muscle.

A switch flipped inside the scarred man. A visceral joy overwhelmed him as he heard his opponent's screams. The blood on his hand and on the floor seemed to turn into an addictive shade of red. The crowd's fervent cheering fueled his d.e.s.i.r.e for violence and a newfound strength overflowed through his body.

The tired body which he could barely move until just a moment ago moved as he willed and he exploded with power. He got on top of the screaming man and started raining one hammer blows after another to his face. The sound of his fist hitting the bearded man's flesh reached his ear giving him a strange p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e.

Similar to him, the bearded man seemed to grow violent as well. The pain which rendered him incapable of thought or action gave him incredible p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e and each hit he received felt great. But while he enjoyed the pain, he was also overtaken by the d.e.s.i.r.e to destroy the man on top of him.

Having made his decision, he drove his finger into his opponent's eyes. He could feel the eyeball pop and gooey white fluids slid down his fingers. A fist handed on his cheekbone and he was stunned.

The scarred man backed away as he screamed in pain. Both his palms covered his left eye. A splitting headache followed the excruciating pain and a mixture of blood and intraocular fluid seeped out.

The crowd was stunned into silence by the gruesome sight. It felt cold inside the heated bas.e.m.e.nt all of a sudden.

The owner clicked his tongue and clapped his hand. A wave of invisible energy swept through the crowd and the atmosphere changed immediately. The excitement which had all but disappeared returned once more. The audiences cheered like beasts and a few brawls broke out between the audiences without any signs.

"Kill him!"

"Rip him apart."

"I put a lot of money into you. Put more power into your strikes."

"Move your a.s.s. Why are you crying like a p.u.s.s.y."

The crowd exploded with all sorts of curses and cheers. Even Elias got influenced and started cheering. Vincent grabbed him by the neck and knocked him out.

'The owner doesn't have brown hair. He doesn't wear a glove as well and I can't see any burn mark on his hands. He is not the one whom Elias had encountered.'

Vincent made a conclusion and looked at Miss Mystique. He wanted to go deal with the owner and didn't know what to do with the woman. He was surprised by what he saw. The easily excitable girl was sitting calmly in front of the bar and drinking from a bottle.

"Are you okay?" Vincent asked as he put some distance between them. She was clearly acting abnormal and he decided it was best if he stayed a safe distance away from her.

"Of course I am. I haven't felt this good in a long time. How I have missed this sensation. The only regrettable thing is that the alcohol tastes bad. What a shame." She answered with a reminiscing look on her face.

Putting the bottle down, she redirected her gaze to the ring. The scarred fighter was choking the bearded man while the latter delivered one punch after another. Both the men possessed great strength. The bearded fighter couldn't breathe at all. His thoughts were growing slower but he didn't mind. There was not an ounce of fear in his mind. He was growing high on asphyxiation and he had never felt so good.

His hits grew lighter and lighter. Until finally, his arms dangled loosely and his body fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut loose. The scarred man looked around and roared in victory. Blood still flowed from his mangled eye socket but he paid it no mind. He was immersed in this amazing feeling of victory and nothing mattered to him.