Seven jumped to his right, "come on, come on" he thought to himself. Blood ran down his stomach and legs, in front of him was the prodige. All he had was an excuse of a swordsman to with, the spirit he had come to call Loser.
The spirit that always said something negative, that had the weakest skills. He had no issues holding this spirit down. Resisting Loser, was similar to resisting an itch. A joke really, hence the name, and right now his life was on the line of this joke.
He preyed that another spirit would inhabit his body. Over the training period he noticed that Loser had been the only consistent spirit he could summon, sometimes he'd ignore him as well. Sometimes a new spirit would inhabit him, rarely where they strong.
"Swish", a clumsy strike flew by him which he easily dodged. Every other day he'd have to fight a battle to the death, and everyday he had managed to survive by a thin margin. The person in front of him was quick and strong, but equally clumsy.
Seven didn't have the courage to fight him, but strangely Loser did. To Loser, this person was nothing more than an uncivilized animal, which he was. Seven used his spirit attraction to his fullest, Loser wouldn't be enough to finish him.
Thats when he felt it. Like a large wound stretching over his body, when Loser tried to take him over it was an itch, this was more like seeing water after months of dehydration. He lost control, an red aura started circulating around him.
A sword flew towards him, aiming to pierce him. He didn't dodge, it stopped at his skin, two millimeters away. The spirit inside of him had used a spell which was intended to protect the user against temperature, but because of their skill differences it had blocked the sword.
The kid jumped back, it was raw instinct. He knew that the person in front of him changed. "Fuck", he whispered under his breath, he knew what class Seven had. He had lived with him for the past weeks, and this was a spirit taking over his body.
The guardian watching the battle peered at Seven. To him killing Seven was as easy as breathing, but the aura emanating from him right now made him vigilant. Seven stood in a large black room and watched on.
Seven breathed in, he began laughing. The sound, the feeling, the air, the glares, he had missed it all. He would take his time in defeating the pescal in front of him, then he would slaughter his way out of there.
The boy began shivering, Sevens ill will was aimed towards him. Seven walked towards him, and the boy subconsciously walked backwards. Suddenly, both his arms were felt tied to the air.
He was stretched apart into a large x shape, In sevens hands was now an air dagger. He walked up to him and slowly penetrated his skin. The blade moved ever so slowly through the body stomach, Seven enjoyed the screams and shouts.
Inside of his mind, he was throwing up. He hadn't the stomach to bear what was happening in front of him, but he was powerless. He was no longer the person in charge. Suddenly the guard stepped in, and Seven's vision turned into pitch blackness.
The guard had been lucky that when a spirit took over Sevens body he would only inherit some of their best skills, their mentality, and a fraction of their stats. Because if not, the guard would have suffered the same fate as that boy.
...
Seven woke up in his metal cage, they always threw him in there. He looked around and noticed that the multiple iron cages were empty. He broke into tears, the vision of him cutting into that boy's stomach echoing in his mind.
He calmed down, the cage was calming. It was natural, its restrictive properties, it being hard and unbreakable, his helplessness. It was all calming to him, freedom slightly scared him now.
He put his head against the cold metal floor and laid like that for hours, then he fell asleep. The next day he was ushered out of his metal cage, they had started off as 40, now there was four.
The people around him felt like lions to him. He knew he didn't deserve the place he was in, he was simply lucky. He walked to the meditation room, and begun his training. Consistently saying no to your urges was the best way to practice for his class. Apart from putting himself in pain, meditation was the only option.
His teacher wasn't calm or grateful. He was a spirit tamer, he had repeatedly told Seven how fortunate he was to still be alive. Apparently, almost every person who picked his class would soon run themselves into a fatal scenario.
Losing control over your body at random times in a city was a sure way to anger the wrong people. In a twisted way, this was one of the few occurrences picking his class made sense.
He got down into his meditation position and begun ignoring his thoughts, and focusing on his breaths. Then, when he thought he had begun, it ended. He got pushed back into his cage. A new spirit was hovering around him.
He could sense it, the air around him almost grew a different smell. It was as if he had grown a new sense, the spirit around him looked curious. He felt it come closer and closer, it was an eerie feeling, similar to waking through a graveyard.
It wanted to enter his body, the itch he received had been weaker than that of Losers. "what a surprise" he thought to himself sarcastically.
Extremely weak spirits came to him all the time, afterall it was the weak who died. Especially in this place there were countless children who had been murdered. They all created their own small itches.
This one did not. There was a knock but nothing else, no matches at all. Seven decided to allow it in out of boredom. His body grew calmer, and a lot more happy. He heard a voice resound through his head, "Hello".
The spirits could talk to him, but it didn't happen very often. They had no reason to but sometimes they did, Loser would usually utter something pessimistic. Seven usually agreed.
Seven thought out to the spirit in his head. "Hello" he said. He was enjoying these few moments, calmness was something rare. "Hey!", the spirit childishly said. "Hello". Seven responded. "Hey!!!" the spirit continued.
Seven grew a smile, an uncomfortable smile. "Hello" he went again. The two continued like this for the entire night. Seven thought it to be the best night in his life. He woke up refreshed instead of beaten down.
Today he'd have to fight. The spirit seemed to have slept alongside him, he grew sad that he'd have to kick it away. He wished that it would come back, but he had to survive, after all, he had to kill his master.