I paused, unable to have even a brief moment of introspection before I had to deal with the powerful entity right beside me.

“A curious combatant,” he said, his voice a smooth hiss.

“Seemed more fun than throwing myself in a pigman cauldron.” I didn’t turn to look him in the face.

He took a slow breath, in and out, through his nose. “There must be something more to you, to have the interest of one of the Highers.” I felt him turn from me to look out at the crowd. “I’ve also put a fair amount on you, so you’d better not disappoint.”

“Killing demons is something of a speciality of mine.” Now I looked toward him. Bright red eyes amongst wrinkled, almost scaled green skin. His horns jutted forward after a brief curve, their yellowed color looking like they desired my blood to paint them.

“What an odd thing to say.” He smiled, two rows of razor-sharp teeth greeting. “Don’t let me hold you up any longer, Hunter. I’ve always preferred the Lowers fighting, due to how barbaric it is. Never seen a human compete. What a joy.”

Did demons even use money? What had he used to bet on me? Or what had Pearl even bet on me?

Before I could deliver another quip in response, he was gone. Having another Highers demon watching over me was something I hadn’t considered. I was a known entity in certain circles, and hopefully that wasn’t about to bite me for doing something so… public.

I continued on through the crowd, blind to all the varying shapes and types of demon. Couldn’t quite block out the stench and thickness to the air, but at least I wasn’t becoming corrupt… yet.

Feeling like I had just doomed myself to the inevitability, I reached the sign that had the number eight on it. Another vulture-like demon stood guard here, and I started to wonder if they were going to be the ones running the show here. It made sense, in the way that Hell often did or did not.

“Slow-ass human,” he stated. “Your pit begins in three minutes, hurry up.” With a long arm that held a few feathers, he pointed to a gate that blocked some downward stairs.

I tipped my hat and stepped forward before he coughed and gestured to my holstered revolver.

“First pit is melee only, champ. I won’t confiscate it, but if you use it, then you’ll be disqualified.”

“That means killed, right?” My smile was one of confidence. I was willing to bet I could get away from any security measures they had in place. Even without the three-second go-home button within my wrist, I could probably slaughter my way free.

“Smart one, eh? Ten fighters, only two at most can make it to the Greater Pit.”

Now we’d started using proper nouns. They must be a little more serious here than I first anticipated… nah, it was still the Lowers. I presumed I’d have to come to an agreement with whoever was last in the pit with me, that the both of us would go forward to the next. Didn’t seem worth it in the long run, as only one moved on from the Greater Pit.

//Place here is packed, hundreds coming up on scanner.

Stood to reason. There must be a hundred or so combatants at the least, if all pits were full. Nevermind all the onlookers. Eight pits might not even be the last of them. I pushed through the gate and started down the steps. Everything was either dirty red stone or damaged wood. Perhaps the wooden walls were easier to replace once they got broken during the fights.

Another gate at the bottom and then I was out in the pit.

Somehow it smelled even worse than above, as if the odor was heavier than whatever air the place had. The death that permeated the arena didn’t help, and the glares of eyes toward me signaled that I would perhaps be a prime target.

[Over to the left, Eric.]

I turned my head lazily, allowing my glare to go between each of my potential victims, before settling on where Wight was directing me to. A smile crossed my face and my feet took me to cross the pit.

“Shame we meet under such circumstances,” I said to the croc-demon dressed in a dirtied suit.

“Boss,” he nodded. “Korc got word you’d be fightin’.”

“And she sent you?” Turning back to the even more annoyed gaggle of other demons, I raised an eyebrow. “Is there a way for you to get out alive?”

“No. This is my penance.” A sharp grin went up the side of his long mouth. “I failed the gang on one of our raids, so it was this, or be gutted on the spot.”

I held my hand out. “Call me Eric. What is your name, friend?”

His scaled one took it, and we shook. “Tuppa.”

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“Well then, Tuppa. Let’s show these miserable fucks what Redd Death is capable of.” I grinned, and he gave me a nod.

A wave of silence flooded through the giant structure. Some form of magic, perhaps, but it signaled that the show was about to begin. I quickly clocked our opponents, of which there were eight.

Fishman demon that resembled a hammerhead shark.

A thick-set male devil with some manner of club.

Hamster-faced demon, black fur, and no clothing. Female.

Holding a large axe was a light gray demon wrapped in leather straps like a mummy.

A sickly looking pigman. Looked like he had a parasite controlling him.

With a ghostly sword was another devil, this one slim, with a black mask.

Bipedal rhino-demon.

The last was an odd demon, wearing robes. Blue skin and four eyes of soft purple.

I looked up at the number eight above our pit. The edges were crowded around with onlookers, and higher up the balconies going up a few levels were all peering down at us. For a man who needed to kill all demons, this place made me itchy.

//Pearl says to watch out for the caster and rhino.

Although I couldn’t use my gun, I wondered what the rules on magic were. Probably nothing that didn’t involve touch, so I’d keep my distance and hope someone else mashed his head in.

[I think you should avoid dying to any of them.]

A sensible take.

‘Keep me on my feet and we’ve got this.’

I withdrew Pearl’s Salvation into my hand. It hadn’t gotten much use lately. I had my eye on the ghostly sword of the devil, so hopefully that would be mine in short order. As Tuppa put on some knuckle dusters, I considered the steps that put me in this position. About to melee fight a group of toughened demons for fun.

All to impress the ones at home. Or at least that’s what I told myself. It was for my own bravado as well. I can kill these demons, even at a disadvantage.

“Welcome to the Arena!” A booming voice echoed around the chamber. “Most of our brave combatants will die today. The first fight begins in five seconds.”

I had expected more of a message about being thankful for our sacrifice in the name of entertainment, or to remember us… or just something. More fool me to assume that the demons down here would care an iota about anything. This place was probably-

“Fight!”

My face wrinkled up, having not finished my thought before being interrupted. As I was the tastiest morsel in this pit, I decided to wait and have the opponents come to me. It was melee only, and having the wall behind me meant I wouldn’t get surrounded at the outset. With the croc beside me, we were a threatening force.

Not that the rhino seemed to care. Immediately he had charged toward us, knocking the bulky devil to the side and almost flattening the leather-mummy. The dark hamster went for the closest to her, and the rest I didn’t have the chance to pick out on account of the large demon sprinting right at me.

And Pearl said to avoid him.

Cool energy flowed through my limbs as Wight empowered me and I flipped the dagger around in my hand. Tuppa launched himself out of the way toward the fishman, who was trying to work his way into my fight, and I leaped to the side.

Landed into a soft roll, back to my feet, as the rhino slammed into the wooden wall. Just as I thought he might have gotten himself stuck, he wrenched the pointed horn free, shredding the aged plank onto the grubby floor.

Before he could gather up another charge, I went for him. Unseated from my position, I didn’t want to hang back and get something jammed into my spine while I was distracted. Knife came down, powered by my pact demon's energy, and my opponent raised his chubby arm up. His forearm was encased in a light metal, which my weapon scratched off of and missed his softer parts. As his other fist came in for a punch, I pooled my power into my other hand and absorbed the blow.

I slid across the debris covered floor, turning to slash out at the masked devil as he moved around his opponent. Cut through his clothing into skin, but didn’t do much damage. As he turned to lash out with a backhand, I ducked. Arm moving over me, I stood and jammed my dagger into his forearm.

Pain in his growl and he released the grip of his ghostly sword. Hopefully it wasn’t possessed.

It landed into my grip, and then I dove to the side as the rhino plowed over me and impaled the disarmed devil straight through the back. Dagger lashed out, and I caught the stocky leg of the beast-like demon, but his skin was too thick to do much damage. Instead, I scrabbled back to my feet to get my bearings.

As the rhino engaged the opponent of the now deceased devil, I went to assist Tuppa. It looked as though he had inflicted some damage on the demon, but his weapons were at a disadvantage. I pooled my demonic energy down into the stolen sword, black mist covering the ethereal blade, causing brief sparks of power to pop from it.

Just before I got to my gang pal, I twisted and held out the sword to block an incoming swing. The diseased pigman. Empty look in his eyes. Small protrusions from his head and shoulders were like little green antennae.

//Parasitic demon has infested him. Caution advised.

I would have rolled my eyes if they weren’t busy being focused on the task at hand. Strange for such a creature to even enter the event - but then again, perhaps it hadn’t been by its own volition. Another swing from the club it held barely missed me, the speed surprising considering what it was.

Oh, it wasn’t a club. It was a leg.

Not fresh enough to be from one of the combatants, it looked to be calcified… or hardened in another way that my combat-fueled brain couldn’t think of right now. Petrified? Either way, I didn’t fancy getting hit by it.

Another wide swing and I batted it to the side with the sword, stepping in closer to stab at the extended forearm with my dagger again. Trying to disarm my opponents seemed like a smart move when I couldn’t blast them with my revolver. The knife plunged in to his inner elbow, by a good few inches.

Of course, he wasn’t much bothered by that, being controlled by a parasite.

Although the limb lost strength, he changed tactic and instead pulled me in for a bear hug. Too close to escape it, his other arm wrapped behind me and I was pressed against his bulbous stomach.

It was slick with some manner of mucus. Yellowing and foul. He was also remarkably cold - perhaps the coldest thing I’d ever felt in Hell. Then again, he was dead, so that made some sense. What didn’t make sense was I could barely move myself. Sure, there was strength there, but it was something else… the mucus? The stench of his breath as the dead-eye glare loomed closer, mouth agape?

Whatever it was, I was unable to take a good stab at him with my weapons. Tuppa was engaged in combat still, I could hear it.

Looking up at the decayed teeth eager to consume a warm meal, I saw something else deep inside that maw. Deep in the recesses, two small, yellow eyes were amongst the darkness. An alien look to them that I couldn’t help but read as joy in finding another potential host.

The true face of the parasite.