It pounced over the fire while we scrambled to opposite sides of the camp. We flanked either side of it but it peered at us like we were morsels of flesh and bone. Thick with winter fur and half our height on all fours, it would’ve towered each of us if it decided to stand on hind legs.
Dark gray fur striped with black and white circled Taro and I around the campfire. Flames dwelled in its amber eyes that were extinguished by its wrathful soul. Black gums and red-stained teeth sneered at us while the wolf lowly growled.
My jagged sickle was held taut. Taro took hold of a pinch of snow and clasped his hands together. A low arcane light glowed in his palms as a dust of frost poured from his fingers. Dammit Taro I hope you can kill this fucking monster.
I reached low for a stick lit aflame. The wolf followed. In its low stance, it sprung itself forward. Taro released a burst of cold that glistened over the beast. Even a few steps away, I felt the adhesive burn of frost stick to my skin.
The beast backed away but shook it off. Dust of snow twinkled in the air like stars in the void of space.
“Use an ice spike!” I exclaimed.
Taro huffed in frustration, “You have the strength of an orc! Use it!”
“I really don’t!”
The wolf charged again. I stuck the torch in front of its muzzle but it only ushered closer. A thin spike of ice entered the creature’s side before it narrowly chewed upon my fingers. It whined in pain and sneered with fury. The beast of winter unclenched its foaming jaw and charged at me.
It knocked away my torch. Threw me to the ground with its 350 pounds of mass. And turned to Taro. It dove at the mage who was prepping another icicle. Taro was brought to the soil beneath and pierced the wolf repeatedly with his dagger of ice while its canines dug into his neck and shoulder.
I stood frozen while crimson splattered the snow with each strike from the half-orc. Strings of blood and tendons left the wolf until Taro’s body turned limp. The spike of ice turned into a shard of red as it rolled from his hand.
[PARTY MEMBER DISBANDED]
The red [System] notification snapped me to reality. The beast feasted upon my companion and I knew my turn was next. To defy the Creator and avenge Taro, I pounced on the wolf as it did to him. My sickle dug deep into its furred shoulder. It whimpered in agony as it threw me to the ground. The beast was on top of me while I was stuck under its back, wrestling its claws away from my head. I maneuvered my sickle around the wolf’s head and pulled toward myself with all of my might. Caught in the round edge of the blade, it sliced through its own winter coat and eventual throat when it tried to writhe and toss itself back onto its legs.
Sliced fur and blood covered my eyes. The warmth comforted me when the creature eventually laid still, but it was crushing me. I pushed it off to the side and worried about the negative decimals in my [Stamina]. But with every breath I recovered it ticked back up.
I stumbled over to Taro’s lifeless body. He was dead. The damage had exceeded his meager [Health] bar and plunged it into the negatives to never recover. His motionless eyes stared at the smoldering fire. What was odd about his wounds was that no blood sank into the snow beneath him. His red flesh was torn and his blood was splattered, but it was like it sat atop the earth like oil or grease.
I gazed at his corpse and watched as it, and his blood, disintegrated into blue arcane particles. Like embers in the wind that vanished in the air, he was gone. No trace of him was left. The only other human I came across was no more. I would’ve died to the wolf if not for the damage he dealt.
Why am I cursed? Tears seeped from my eyes where Taro once lay. If I was as strong as him from the start and not as frail, I could’ve saved him. But instead… I relied on him as I stood useless. I turned to the wolf’s body. It soaked the snow in a dark-syrupy red.
The beast was still warm. Without a second to think, I gritted my teeth and sliced my sickle down its belly and did my best to carve its fur from the body. Parts were tattered. Some were torn. I cared not. My lack of butchering experience could wait while I tried not to freeze to death.
Crimson from head to toe with the dripping flesh of the carcass I wore, I rekindled the fire and sawed off whatever meat I could from the wolf. I roasted it over a fire until it was black and paired it with the vegetables I was given. It was the best meal I ever had. So good in fact, that I saw my [Health] and [Stamina] rise to single digits!
How pathetic.
I rested beside Taro’s spot next to the fire. I still couldn’t comprehend it all. He was there with me a moment ago. And now he’s not. He was gone from my [Party Members] list as if he never existed. His bag was still propped against the tree. But his body wasn’t. I leaned my head back and pulled the pelt over myself as a blanket to shield myself from this world.
* * *
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While I tried to sleep, it felt as if the sun rose as soon as I had closed my puffy eyes. The clamoring sound of a billion people surrounded me. The soft snow felt like rough sand. The desert heat was killing me. Every night was a new nightmare.
In my sweat-ridden fervor, I threw off the pelt. This was no dream. The sun was high in the sky. Billions of people did surround me. Wisps of sand had blown from the colosseum floor. It was night a moment ago, and now it wasn’t. I didn’t think that this was a new layer of hell. But it might as well have been.
Before I amassed a panic within myself like the rest of the crowd, I gazed at the half-elf hybrids that sat near me. They were in a frenzy but turned frozen with fear when they looked back at me. I forgot I was stained red until I looked at my hands.
“They’re supposed to be green!” I said with a jesting tone. But they didn’t seem to find it humorous. They continued to scream and try to rise from their chairs. It was at this time that I figured I should’ve done the same. However, my ass was magically glued to the seat. I couldn’t stand nor turn. I opened my menus and was met with a red pop-up.
[SYSTEM LOCKED]
Oh shit. This is actually bad. I couldn’t press, swipe, or blink away to a new screen. Only the ominous red message in front of the [Map] appeared before me. I squinted through the holographic screen and could make out that this location was called Hubloc. But it didn’t matter as fate was not in my hands at the moment.
Soon, A pedestal rose from the center of the arena and with it came a slender full-elf who stood upon it. He was the size of an ant all the way down there but my [System] screens projected his image. The elf slammed an ornate gold-spiraled staff into the platform that sent rippling waves of sand from the floor. Then all was silent.
I heard the smack of his lips from 900 feet away but not the cries of the hybrids next to me. I tried to shout but not a sound exited my mouth.
“Welcome,” he said with a grin and a spin. His white robes were trimmed with gold on the edges that reflected the sun wildly. “My name is Favian Bormallow. Elf. Spellcaster. Deity. But you may call me ‘The Announcer.’ Every hybrid, plainskin, half-breed, otherworldly, chosen human is here! Welcome to our beautiful realm of Carrion! The Creator may have sent you here… but it is up to the rest of the gods to see how you meet your end.” Favian pointed upward and a large floating platform shadowed the colosseum. Five figures stood atop, differing in bloodlines and abilities.
“Each of the attributes you carry within your [System] correspond to a God! Whether it be Irokirth, God of [Strength]! Shaedral, Goddess of [Dexterity]! Seismont, God of [Endurance]! Harnyx, Goddess of [Spellcasting]! And who could forget Kraxmon, the God of [Crafting]!” Each god held high an item that represented them: An axe. An arrow. A shield. A staff. A hammer.
“There’s more gods than these five, some create the beasts, some of lands, some of fortune, and some of death. But these five will increase your chances of survival if you shall perish in this realm, for you have a second chance upon death! All it takes… is the will to slay your own kind.” The Announcer smirked a pearl-eating grin while the platform floated away.
The bright desert sun scorched the sands of the arena once again. Two gates rose open on either side. “May I present the first deaths of the realm—surprising it took this long I know… John Cescov the Crafter… versus… Taro Matsuno the Mage!
Taro!? This is where he was sent after dying!?
“Each time one of you half-breeds die in the wild, you will be sent here to fight another who has also perished. One of you will have a second chance while the other… won’t be so lucky. Failure to fight each other will result in the death of both contestants. So don’t fuck this up.” Favian clapped his hands and the deafening cries of the billions returned.
Gladiatorial combat in return for freedom was all sorts of fucked, but if Taro could return to his life here, it’d be a miracle.
“Come on Taro! Use your spikes!” I shouted.
Taro stepped into the open arena with proper steel adorning him. Armored plates covered his chest, limbs, back, and head. A longsword adorned his hip but his hands were exposed to the open air. He saw Cescov on the far side of the colosseum, bowed, and sat cross-legged on the sand.
Cescov, myself, and every other hybrid that spectated were ashamed to see Taro’s end so pitifully. John ran his stout dwarven legs across the sands with a maul in hand to meet the orc. With his hammer held above his head, nearly six steps away from Taro, he was unable to bring it down.
A small cyclone shifted around the spellcaster. Particles of sand ripped across the half-dwarf’s face.
“You can do better than that Taro!”
The cyclone ended and the orc was standing with the same neutral gestures he used when he was with me. The dwarf charged with a guttural bellow. But Cescov fell to his knees in silence. A shard of crystalized sand struck through his side.
Similar to the wolf, crimson blood pooled along the ground. This was it. The half-dwarf would not vanish into blue arcane particles, but instead rot and blister in the desert sun when he died.
I saw on my [System] screen what could only be tears welling in the man’s eyes as he sat motionless on the ground. Taro stood before him, gazing down. He took a fistful of sand and together the crowd repeated two words: “End. Him.”
I caught myself repeating the phrase, but what was I doing? The chaos of the crowd drew me in like a mantra I had to consciously break away from. These were two humans a few nights ago. And the gods above changed us overnight. They turned us into monsters that killed one another for our own survival while they watched us for sport.
I looked away as Taro aimed the second shard at Cescov’s head. I only heard the thud of the body and the splatter of blood across the sands. A message appeared and the cheer of the crowd confirmed his ultimate end.
[John Cescov: SLAIN!]