A deep breath followed shortly after by a stream of vomit. I screamed in abject terror at everything around me. Men were dying, blood and guts and the stench! My God the stench alone was one of the worst things I have ever had the dissatisfaction to smell. I was currently trying to hide behind a small line of my men. The plan had been simple. I would send them in to wipe out the enemy in this Tutorial, earn EXP and level up to become stronger.

Things had gone so far from the ideal I didn’t even know where the fuck it was anymore. It had started well enough. The square formation that had been comprised of my men had slammed into the side of the enemy. When I’d gotten closer, I’d seen what they were wearing. A mixing of animal hide, leathers, and each of them wore some sort of war-paint. They screamed in mindless rage at the other Mercenary units that were engaged in the battle as well. My men, after making contact, had thrust their shitty spear into the ranks of the Barbarians and managed to kill several dozens before things began to take a turn for the worse.

I had also made it a personal note to upgrade their weapons and armor at the earliest opportunity because as soon as my men engaged and took the first few lives the Barbarians had rushed into the shield wall like madmen. They slammed into the shields like a tidal wave crashing against a cliff. At first, I swore the shield wall would hold, and my men would start thrusting out with their spears, like in the movie with the Spartans.

I was quickly shown the error in that logic.

The shields held, but their spears were cut by enemy axes or broken upon entering an enemy soldiers body. Shortly after the weight of bodies buckled the line of Hoplites. They cut through their ranks like screaming reapers with but one goal, the utter annihilation of their enemy.

The Centurion, Silvius, was oddly still alive. The man had used the broken shaft of his spear to gut a Barbarian and stolen his ax. He and a few Hoplites that followed his lead had created a circle while their brothers fell around them. The ring they had formed was strewn with the body parts of the Barbarians, heads, entrails, arms, and legs.

My location was a bit more, well, pathetic. Silvius had sent two of his little circle after me, screaming at the top of his lungs “protect the General!” He was lost from my view a moment after when the biggest motherfucker I had ever seen in my life came rushing at me, waving his ax around his head and screaming bloody murder. It had seemed so surreal at the time. These were NPC’s, useless bits of data in the grand scheme of whatever the fuck the System was that had intruded itself into our reality. That didn’t keep me from screaming like a little girl, and gripping my pathetic sword, try to make him stab himself on the blade.

The Barbarian had knocked my blade aside, almost casually. With what I could only assume was a sneer he then moved in for the kill. I saw my life flash before my eyes.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was a Tutorial, and I was meant to dominate this shit, earn rewards, and conquer the first game with ease. Even on hard, it should have been possible. I mean, that guy in the Starcraft game was continually overcoming horrible situations and being granted overpowered rewards! It wasn’t fair!

I opened my mouth and closed my eyes, about to scream and beg for my life. Even knowing it would do nothing. A second before I could speak I felt something warm splash my face. It smelled of copper and spice. The sound of a gurgling man came to me. Oddly that single sound overcame the chaos surrounding me, the screams of dying men and the clang of weapons. I opened my eyes and was shocked to see what had happened.

The barbarian was dead, slumping to the ground as the raging fire that was his life left his eyes. Behind him stood one of my Hoplites, he was one of the few that seemed to have maintained his initial spear. He ripped that same spear free of the corpse, kicking it to the side while lunging forward in a massive step while thrusting his spear...at me! Oh, fuck!

The spear went past my ear, grazing it as it did, I heard another gurgling cry and turned to see another Barbarian fall to the side in death. I looked at my savior and was about to say thank you when he fell forward. His eyes wide and panicked, asking me to save him. A strangled cry and then a sword was thrust through his chest from the back.

Oh God! I felt the tears then, the actual horror of my situation all but breaking me. I had entered a battlefield in one of the most violent and horrific game series ever created thinking that it would be like the game and still be in favor of the player. I was wrong, oh so wrong. If this was the Tutorial then what the hell was the actual game going to be like?!

I saw my savior fall to the ground. His eyes had long since grown dim as death took hold. Behind him was a slim man who was smiling, covered in blood and gore. He was bald, wrinkled all to hell, with brown eyes. He wore leather armor scarred with age and use, with a necklace of ears around his neck. He looked at me after my soldier had been killed and slowly, to my eyes at least, brought his blade up and licked the blood in one long swipe off the blade. Then he grinned and lunged at me again.

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I screamed then, falling back in a mad scramble to survive. I had to move, had to find something to keep me alive. The chaos around us, this Barbarian and I, seemed to flow away and around without interfering at this moment. I searched around me in my stumbling attempt to flee backward for something, anything. I found a shield, rent on the side and all but useless. I used it to block a strike aimed at my neck. I saw a brief frown grace the man's face before he yelled and struck again.

This blow numbed my hands and arms, the weight cleaving the shield more. The blade landed just beside my head in the ground. Eyes wide with terror I questioned how I hadn’t been killed and rammed my leg up on instinct so I could have a few more moments of life. I felt my kick connect with the man, a primal cry of rage and pain was ripped free from him before he started cursing in a language I couldn’t understand. I used all the strength I had in that kick. Hoping beyond hope it would buy me a few seconds I gripped the useless shield as hard as I could and flung it to the side. I got lucky because the shield went with little resistance, followed by the sword that had gotten caught in the damn thing.

The bad part was that I now saw just how much I had pissed off the Barbarian. He pulled a knife free from his belt, quicker than my eye could follow and threw himself on top of me while screaming out his anger again. I saw the knife flash toward me and felt something click, instinct, something primal and ancient locked inside of a Human's brain. I didn’t know what the fuck it was but I grappled with him, screaming back while fighting for the knife. We rolled around for a time, struggling and fighting for dominance. He ended up beneath me and I had managed to grip his knife hand and was grunting with exertion as I forced his arms back, turning the blade toward him.

I could feel the veins in my arms popping out while he fought back with all he had. Finally, the knife found its home, inside the man's chest. It slid through his leathers slowly, the armor fighting the blade, but it still slid its way into him. I heard him gasping then, his arms still trembling as he attempted to change the outcome. My response to that was to put more of my weight on that knife, forcing it fully into his chest. Surprise filled his eyes. A mixing of that rage and surprise was all I saw before yanking the knife free of his chest and limp hands and stabbing him again, and again, and again. Over and over I stabbed the man while crying out in fear and my own rage at nearly being killed.

I stabbed the man as though he were all that had gone wrong with me, forgetting my surrounding entirely during the process of losing my sanity.

When I finally came to I sat atop what could only be described as a piece of minced meat. It took me a moment before I realized that this had been the Barbarian that had tried to kill me. It took me a moment longer to realize that I had done this. I had done this to another person. I’d stabbed him so much that nothing about this...thing, could ever be considered Human again. That was when I took in the scents around me and vomited onto the corpse beneath me.

I threw up again when I realized that some dark part of me felt proud I’d turned the man into a lump of flesh. The battle was still happening as well, though it seemed to have moved further away, toward the Barbarians. Gasping for air while I came to terms with exactly what had happened I looked around me and saw a few of the Hoplites around me. Just four of them, but they were wandering the battlefield and sliding weapons, no doubt looted from the dead, into still writhing bodies as they cleared the battlefield.

Again a sickening sense of pleasure at seeing lives being ended reared its head and I fought to ignore it. I wasn’t like that, I was a fucking gamer and this was a game. It had to be, none of this could be real, what I’d done could not be real!

I had once heard that denial was the leading cause of all self-harm. To deny what you were, what you had become, or what you were capable of would lead you down a dark and pain filled path. In this case, I chose to ignore those old words and deny the ever living fuck out of that dark part that seemed to revel in all of this carnage.

Throwing up one last time I rose to my feet, unsteadily, while avoiding as much contact with the corpse beneath me as I could.

One of the Hoplites noticed me and jogged over. He looked young, fifteen or sixteen. He had looted a better-looking spear, though it still looked a little bent, his shield held several dents and rents as well. The armor wasn’t much better. His eyes though, they scared me. They were blue in color but cold, and I mean cold. It was like looking into the eyes of a doll, no emotion.

He stopped a foot from me and did that weird salute, fist over his heart, before speaking.

“Sir, Centurion Silvius has bid myself and my squad to remain with you and protect you for the duration of this battle.” He paused, looking at me, his eyes flicking briefly toward the corpse just a bit behind me, the blood steaming in the heat of the day as it cooled. I ignored the look of pride that flashed through the little psycho’s eyes before he continued.

“The Barbarians began falling back after you killed their War-Leader. You were rather, occupied, during the event but the fighting had stopped around you for a time during your duel with the man. Your display put the fear of the Gods into them and they began to retreat. Centurion Silvius took the remainder the men to give chase and earn more esteem for our Company. Would you have us give chase as well?”

The raw hope that filled his eyes made me almost vomit again. What kind of person would willingly want to follow that and keep killing? This is a game, I have to remember that. During this time period, people were more battle-crazed too. I needed to remember...just a game, a game.

I took a few deep breaths, ignoring the stench as my stomach roiled in protest. It was a game of death. One I had to win. I tried to speak a few times, finally forcing my throat clear with a cough and gave my order while stowing the knife I’d used into the odd cinch in my leather belt so it would stay put. “We follow. Gather what weapons you can and be ready to move in a moment.” I paused, regarding him and ignoring the fucking doll-eyed stare he gave back. “What’s your name?”

He smiled then, a slow and brutal smile while bending down to pick up an ax, more a hatchet really. “I am Sejanus.”