There was little time to look at the body of Zanaya as it was carted off by the cleaner crew, a wave of concern washing over me as they carried his corpse away. Something didn't sit right. Zanaya was a phenom of strength and skill, possessing that other-worldly strength he'd tapped into during his quarterfinal bout. How on earth did he get overpowered here? Who would want to get involved?
My mind was ripped from questions as Alduin put one foot on the balcony barrier and stood like an explorer surveying her kingdom, running a hand through her bleach blonde undercut hair, watching Eustace De Kolta take his place as the elevator shuddered and the chain bringing it up heaved under the pressure. Eustace kept his hands in his pockets and grinned.
"Fight fans, we move on with our Openweight Grand Prix Semifinals and turn our attention to one of the two invitational fighters looking to keep his mystique alive. You know him at the nightmare catcher; Eustace De Kolta!" He bowed in that overly courteous manner and regained his composure as the doors opened and within an instant, that composure gave way to seething hatred.
Black hair, long bloodied antlers, a deer skull with small scraps of skin peeling away, a hunched over frame with a descended stomach and wild ravenous eyes; A Wendigo.
An old, hungry one.
Eustace looked up to Alduin with a look of shock and betrayal, she shrugged her shoulders.
"And his opponent, something I think will be most interesting to see… given his fixation on one of our wildcard entrants… The Wendigo of Algonquin Blackwood!"
It locked eyes with Eustace and began charging, horrific growling and screeching coming from the beast as Alduin's smile grew and she threw her hand in the air; "BEGIN!"
-
NFC OPENWEIGHT GRAND PRIX SEMIFINALS: EUSTACE DE KOLTA VS THE WENDIGO OF ALGONQUIN BLACKWOOD
Eustace made no effort to open his satchel, to bring forth a nightmarish creature under his control and end things in a snap. Instead, he threw it aside with his hat and cloak, rolling through the legs of the charging Wendigo and rolling up his sleeves as it turned to pounce.
"My, my. So I am to be made a fool of in this Grand Prix, am I? Oh, Von Trier, you are merely allowing me to show off my skills with the fiery passion of HATE!"
As he annunciated the final word, his right fist volleyed into the stomach of The Wendigo. It winced, but did not stop its trajectory as it bit into the soft flesh of his shoulder, tearing a piece off and leaping to the other side of the pit to feast.
"A stunning development! Eustace De Kolta has so far been the one to win this entire thing, yet he is now on the receiving end of some vicious punishment! Zunk, what do you think will happen?"
"If he doesn't get that satchel soon, he's gonna end up sliced, diced and not looking' so nice! Meanwhile, our cannibal boy over there is snacking on that piece of Eustace like it's one of my Stromboli's. De Kolta has gotta do something here."
The Wendigo stared up at us as we spoke. Fear gripped my bones when I locked eyes and saw the sheer madness driving this creature to feast. I thought about the legends I'd heard of families huddled up during bitter winters, the spirit talking to the men and urging them to give into their hunger and devour their family. I felt that primal hunger locked onto me and the terror on my skin.
"So this is how I am to be treated as an invitational fighter? I must reveal WHY I am here before you now? You could have simply asked Commissioner Alduin."
Eustace's angry shout snapping me out of the trance and looking down at him, hand clutching his wound as he stared daggers at Alduin. He wrapped it with some tape in his pocket and while circling the still feasting Wendigo, pulled out a pair of brass knuckles and began approaching. No, literally walking towards this hulking mass of muscle and meat. Was he insane?
"I loved my family. Growing up, we always enjoyed travelling the circus and plying our trade as the Devilish De Koltas. I was the illusionist in training, my Mother was our animal carer and expert, Father the fire devourer and weapons specialist with my elder brother being our master of ceremonies… Joseph loved the pageantry of performances. I wanted to be just like him; kind, passionate and beautiful." Eustace took several paces. He was 6 meters away now and stopped to ruminate on his past, The Wendigo finishing his meal and looking up with a melancholy expression, like he'd forgotten he was even in a fight at all.
"I remember the night it happened. Father said a new attraction was coming to the circus we were contracted to, and he was concerned, Mother and he went to check it out while my Brother watched me. I was 5, he was 13. I remember the blood-curdling screams, my mother rushing to our wagon door with her arm hanging out of its socket, the fucking animal leaping onto her scalp and ripping it off with its teeth… the beating my brother sustained as he lured it away from where he'd hid me. The screams, ripping of flesh and gurgles fading to nothing before the deafening silence fell once more… "
The Wendigo charged and ran straight into an uppercut from Eustace, brass knuckles firmly attached and sending the beast and some of its teeth flying as it toppled to the ground in a heap. Eustace breathing heavily. This was not a man accustomed to fighting with his fists.
"That abomination took my family in an instant. I vowed to never let it happen again. I joined The Order of The Moth and dedicated my life to finding, capturing and where control wasn't possible; eliminating these creatures." He looked down at The Wendigo with disgust as he stepped over it, standing above its head and spitting on it. "I have never seen such a thing like Wendy, my interest in her is… unique. But, she is the prize I have come to claim here. When I got word, these creatures were housed here, I sought an invitation and acquired one with my then most recent capture. Here I am, waiting for my moment and now with my eyes on a wish…" He leaned down over the still dazed Wendigo and raised his fist, brass knuckles still attached, into the air as he spoke.
"A wish to wipe out every abomination, good or evil."
He drove it down into the skull of the creature with prejudice. Two strikes, then three, a fourth shattering part of the skull before the creature twitched and fell limp. Eustace, sweating and still bleeding, rose to his feet and walked back to his bag, Alduin's eyes watching him the whole time.
"What a come from behind victory by The Nightmare Catcher himself! Zunk, why did he not use his satchel?!" I knew the answer, but that only made it more disturbing to hear someone else confirm;
"I'm assuming he didn't think it worthy of being in with his other captives, Sal. I'd guess that he wanted to finish it personally, but uhh… well, if he wants to eliminate ALL of us creatures, that's gonna make it hard to root for him, huh?"
I nodded, looking back at Eustace and waiting for Alduin to call the fight. Instead, she was looking past him and to something else lurking in the corner.
As he picked up his satchel, he noticed it had fallen open. Not in time to stop the pincer like stinger rip into his shoulder and tear it open as the visage of Mr. Stares crawled up his back, the face twisting around as it cackled.
"You thought ya had me locked up in that bag for aeons to come, didn't ya? Well, you made a biiiig mistake, pal. If I'm not trapped in there, I've got free rein and I'm in the mood for a new body… how about yours?!" He screeched with a sick laugh, readying himself to burrow into the mouth just like he did at the exhibition match.
But Eustace whistled and all other sounds faded away. It was a single note, but it rang through the venue, stupefying us into a silence. As several hands began blindly searching from the satchel, each with the EDK branding on the tops of them. They moved in the same way as a spider, but with a greater sense of agility. Within moments, they sensed Eustace and crawled up his person, grabbing at Mr. Stares one by one until they completely enveloped him, squeezing his wooden frame. Eustace's whistling grew higher in pitch as they tightened their grip, the wood splintering under the pressure and making the hairs on my body stand on end.
When it hit the apex, the doll snapped and with a powerful gust of wind, a smog escaped the doll and floated out of the pit and down the elevator shaft.
Eustace's eyes followed it for a moment and it looked like he was intent to chase after, but he sighed and grabbed at his now pouring wound, grimacing before taking himself to the dugout, satchel dragging on the ground behind him as Alduin declared him the winner.
"A damn interesting story, Eustace. I knew this fight would bring out the best in ya ahead of the finals! Let's keep this party rumbling and find out who will be joining ya in the finals from the Wildcard bracket! He's in The Nirvana state, he's got that pure zen that could snap into violence at any moment! Mr Game of Death himself; Qwong Xiao!"
The attention moved to the dug-out, but nobody emerged. Normally, up to this point at least, the fighter would be standing and waiting when Alduin called them out. A courtesy, more than anything.
Plus, after all he'd gone through to get here, you'd think Qwong would want to be right out there and claiming what he sees as his rightful spot. But, 2 minutes past and nobody came out, much to Alduins chagrin.
"Alright, someone fuckin' wake up the monkey king and bring him here. He's had enough time!" She slammed a foot down and the ground shook a tad.
"You too have been on your own journey through hell, Sabotta." I looked behind me and Qwong stood here, his eyes white and his jaw slack. Someone was speaking through him. Someone sinister. "This one climbed through the Gashadokuro for aeons and attained a higher state, he flitters between planes of existence and needed to suffer the most gruesome of fates in order to make the leap. But you… my word… you did it without even trying." He reaches out cold, clammy hands and grips my forearms, Zunk looking on nervously and unsure how to act. "I have watched you travel between spaces, dip beneath the static, ascend the floors of inertia and fly across the valleys of death. I have seen you live, die, love, suffer and struggle countless times and yet you sit here before me, unable to even comprehend your brilliance or your danger."
My eyes burned and I felt the aura of a migraine rising in the back of my skull, like I was dipping my head into hot wax. I felt sick and the more I heard him speak without moving his lips, the more terrified I became.
"This one has been borrowed to pass a message onto you, Sal Sabotta. One that you need to hear, even at the cost of this one's safety." Alduin looked up and began shouting to her security. As Zunk pried Qwong away with ungodly strength, he uttered something that chilled me to the bone, though I couldn't place why;
"He's already here, waiting to drag you into the void. Be aware."
With that, his body seized and his nose bled profusely as he was dragged away. I stood there dumbstruck and feeling like someone just walked over my goddamn grave. Alduin muttered something about "fuckin' enlightened minds, can't trust 'em" before declaring Qwong eliminated due to incapacitation and moving on.
But I couldn't shake the inalienable feeling that something was watching me, piercing eyes from somewhere unseen in the venue and a malicious intent that separated itself from the competitors below.
The kind that threatened to take me at a moment's notice whenever it saw fit.
-
Much like Alduin, the crowd had grown restless and their bloodlust had risen to an all-time high. This was to be expected; most didn't leave the pit alive and to forfeit voluntarily or otherwise was absolutely unthinkable. I was trying to calm myself down by scratching my palm when Zunk placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and smiled, staring at the sheets in front of us.
"Hey, know what I do when I'm nervous? I focus on colours in my mind that made me feel calm. Sounds dumb, I know, but if I get those urges to revert to what I was… Well, I just think of the colour Magenta and I feel at ease. Sometimes I try to fabricate smells too, the kinds that I can cook in my safe space and bring me joy. Try it sometime, it might help." He smiled and briefly looked over, kind weary eyes meeting mine and putting me at ease as I grinned back and thanked him.
"Well, whatcha gonna do, some are duds… happens, am I right? Moving onto our next Semifinal match though, I don't think we're gonna get ANY disappointments. Ladies, gents, freaks of all kinds, he's the master of the death clutch and our other invitational fighter for this years OpenWeight Grand Prix: "Ultraviolence" Rex Chugg!"
Rex emerged from the dugout draped in the flag of his people; the brilliant Netherland colours proudly sporting his shoulders as he completed the walk and imitated a sumo wrestler, stomping his feet onto the ground before clapping his hands together and staring down the elevator opposite, much to the crowd's amusement.
As the doors opened, a familiar foe stepped out for the first time in a while. His mouth still covered in nails and sporting no signs of major brain function, The Puppet Master stumbled out of the elevator and flopped to the ground, drooling and making no attempt to right himself. He looked exactly the same as when Eustace took Mr. Stares and put him into the satchel.
Rex stared at him for a moment and cocked his head before looking over to Alduin:
"You uhh... you sure about this? I don't wanna beat on someone who can't even fight. Ain't that against the rules?"
Alduin's eyes flashed, and she smiled wide at Rex, leaping up to her perch and laughing.
"You really shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Rex. BEGIN!"
NFC OPENWEIGHT GRAND PRIX SEMIFINALS: REX "ULTRAVIOLENCE" CHUGG VS THE PUPPET MASTER
"Well, fight fans and freaks of nature, we're once again greeted with an interesting match-up between the man who made violence a part of his nature and a puppet master who used his nature to inflict violence. That being the case, I'm finding it a bit conflicting to call a match wherein the latter is at the mercy of the former from the get go... Zunk, what are your thoughts?"
I looked to him, but he was fixated on the fight with such intensity that his grip on the table was beginning to bend the wood. He looked indignant at the sight. Rex walks forward and rotates his right arm as he does so.
"Ahh, I hate to do this... but I got a reason for being here, buddy. A lot of kids back at the DeathClutch gym need to know how to protect themselves and deal with that anger healthily, I need this W. Ain't nothin' personal, I promise." He picked The Puppet Master up and let loose a brutal combination; fist to the stomach, front kick to the kneecap and a ferocious uppercut to the jaw as he dropped down, doubling the impact and sending him swirling into the air. He wasted no time and caught him with a picture-perfect dropkick to the jaw as The Puppet Master hurtled back to the ground, the shot careening him into the wall and leaving him in a heap, still drooling.
"What. A. COMBO! You can slap 4.50 on that badboy and bill me for the happy meal separately. Rex showing us that he lives up to the moniker 24/7 and his students at home must be proud! Though I find it hard to cheer with the opponent limp, it looks like this one will be over soon and Rex Chugg will be moving onto the finals!"
"No, he's just biding his time." Zunk breathed, leaning forward to such a degree that he threatened to topple the table, his body quivering with anger.
I looked back and The Puppet Master still looked catatonic as before; his head slumped forward as blood and drool, Rex walking over to pick him up.
"Man, I really thought you might perk up, but I guess not. I'm sorry, I promise to make this quick."
Rex's left hand rose above his head, the fingers twisting into that unusual pose as they gripped The Puppet Masters chest. At this, the puppet master reared his head up, placing his hands on Rex's chest and opening his mouth, the nails driving further through his flesh as they split and fell out. Gone was the dazed over look and in its place was a man who knew full well where he was.
"Made you look, Rex." He hissed. "But it feels so… SO good to be back in my body. Shame you can't relate, huh?"
He pushed Rex away and in that moment of separation, punched the air as Rex had done previously. The crowd and myself holding their breath.
For a moment, nothing happened. The Puppet Master stood up and wiped his face, holding his stomach.
"Well, I never expected this to be an easy ride, but man am I lucky this happened when it did! You pack a hell of a punch, Rex. Shame it had to be me you met, but take out one meathead in Zanaya, take out them all I suppose."
Rex didn't respond. He couldn't. Whatever had infected Zanaya in those closing moments had made its way into him. He stared vacantly at The Puppet Master as he chuckled and threw out his hands, twitching the fingers and making Rex stretch out his arms and look up. Directly at Alduin.
"I told you we wanted in, Champ. Can you see me now?"
The shot rang out, and the hole punctured through Rex's chest created a small window for Alduin and The Puppet Master to see one another clearly; he posed as if framing a photo while Rex stood there, gasps of air escaping his lungs before he dropped to his knees, falling face down into the mat.
The crowd roared as my lungs burned in my chest at the sight, but before I could even say anything to close out the match, Zunk flipped the table and sent it crashing to the bottom of the pit.
"He always loved toying with others. If it wasn't small animals, it was locals in the towns we inhabited, unsuspecting passersby or people he could con. His craving for more got so ambitious, we managed to separate his body from his soul, who'd have thought he'd end up here of all places... WHY WASN'T I INFORMED?" He yelled to Alduin, who snapped her eye to him and glared. Even if he was upset, he clearly made a mistake.
"Guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree, did it, Jersey Devil?" The Puppet Master quipped, holding up Rex's body and making it agree with him before unceremoniously dropping it and laughing that foul laugh Mr. Stares let out before.
"What the hell does he mean, Zunk?" I asked, seeing the anger building up in him as he darted his eyes to both sides.
"That man down there, the one who just manhandled Rex Chugg... he's my son, Malphas. But he goes by another moniker, from his terrorising days."
He swallowed, and his fists clenched. The tension in the air was palpable, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Rex or shake the anxiety of this creature's intent.
"They called him The Black Dog of New Jersey."