Kombat- The final trial – By Pierce/RoadKill

Sweat dripped off of his forehead and onto his leather uniform, he was dreading what was coming next. Only the finest warriors pass the trial of Kombat and no one had ever beaten the challenge. He stepped onto the stone platform, the crowd was roaring, their cheers blocking out all other noise. He steadied his breathing and looked his first opponent directly in the eyes. Its eyes were bottomless pits and it showed no emotion, it didn’t care that it was about to kill another innocent person. These things were supposed to be fallen angels and maters of fighting. All he had to do was kill this angel and he would proceed to the next round. He had killed before and was extremely good at it so why was he so nervous? Was it because the fallen angels were rumoured to be immortal or was it the fact that no one had ever faced one and lived? He asked himself these questions as assumed his fighting stance. His opponent matched his stance and a deep unknown voice bellowed “Fight!”

He struck out at the angel and made contact with it and immediately regretted his decision. The angels’ skin was rock hard and seemed impenetrable. He cried out in pain yet the angel didn’t even flinch. This time the angel struck out and made contact with the man’s head. He was sent flying to the edge of the arena and the angel, quick as lightning, sped to catch the man with his other fist. The man fell to the ground unmoving and the angel returned to its original position awaiting yet another victim to its unending slaughter. The crowd screamed even louder as yet another person had died for their entertainment.

The man waited just before the stone stage, his black hood covering his face in shadow. He seemed extremely calm for a man about to face certain death. He stepped up onto the stage and the crowd roared again, waiting for yet another person to die. This man was clad in leather black as night and had a katana sheathed at his side. He proceeded to change to a fighting stance, yet he was different he

stood differently, more relaxed, as if this was just another regular day for him. The angel ran at him unnaturally fast and the man dodged at the last second and unsheathed his katana. The katana shined in the light of the setting sun. Black words were inscribed onto the blade. The man swung the katana insanely fast and it was a blur to the crowd. The angel shrieked in pain and black blood gushed out of the wound the man had just created on its chest. The crowd became eerily silent as no one had ever hurt the angel in any way before. The man then swung his katana cleanly cutting off the beasts head and it made a thud as it hit the ground. The deep voice returned and shouted “What is your name, champion?” The man replied “I am Krakator, the forgotten God”. The arena was silent as the man removed his hood. His skin was inhumanly pale and his eyes were watery blue.

The crowd cheered as someone had finally beaten one of the “Immortal warriors”. The crowd was ecstatic but the man wasn’t, he knew this was just the beginning of the trial and it would only get harder form this point onwards. The next of the fallen angels entered the arena from a steel gate that was on the North side of the arena, its body covered in muscled flesh. This one carried an axe with it, it was large and made of some sort of metal, rusted beyond recognition. The moment it stepped on the stone stage it charged at Krakator, swinging the axe at his head. Krakator parried the blow with his katana and sent his own at the beasts arm. The katana sliced the arm open and green blood flowed this time, sheeting down to form a pool of blood at its feet. Krakator stabbed the beast in its heart and dragged the blade skywards until it emerged at the beasts shoulder and it howled in pain before dropping to the ground, dead.

The crowd were going insane, screaming, chanting “Krakator!” This was unbelievable, this unknown man had just killed two deathless challengers and had done it with ease. The next angel stepped onto the stage and the crowd started clapping on Krakator. This angel had

silver skin and duel wielded curved swords. Krakator assumed his fighting stance and the angel started spinning the swords and walking steadily towards Krakator. The angel feinted a blow and Krakator went to parry it, leaving his right-side open to attack. The angel didn’t hold back and hacked at the defenceless man and blood spurted from his wound. The wound healed instantly and Krakator chuckled, his secret revealed. The angel had a confused look on its face as Krakator decapitated it with one swift blow.

The gate rose for yet another angel to try to defeat Krakator and he caught a glance at what was behind the gate. Millions of angels stood shoulder to shoulder waiting for their opportunity to kill this deathless God. The army of them stretched for what seemed forever and there was a lot of variety. Some had gold skin, blue skin, wings, claws and some were ten feet tall. He saw all off these angels and sighed. None of them were going to beat him because he had one thing they didn’t, immortality, not the stuff of legend, not rumour, He had actual immortality. He awaited his next opponent and said to himself quietly “It’s going to be a long-ass day”.

The End?

(In dedication to Adelaide)