NFC OPENWEIGHT CHAMPION ALDUIN VON TRIER VS NFC ABYSS CHAMPION ABADDON THE DESTROYER
"BEGIN!"
The clock starts ticking. Wasting no time, Alduin rushes forward, gripping the top of her belt and slamming it into Abaddon's face, the sickening crunch ringing out as steel meets skull. His body contorts and leans back, but does not falter. The locusts converge around his head and begin pushing back, wrapping around her hand and the belt while a free gnarled fist finds its mark on Alduin's stomach.
The wind knocked out of her. She pushes the belt harder and forces his body to bend back; the joints creaking under the pressure. He reciprocates with two more shots, enough to stop her forceful push and back her up. Creating some extra space, Abaddon sweeps the legs and grabs an errant foot with one hand, holding her as if she were a child.
"Should you treat me lightly, Alduin Von Trier, I will make sure you carry the scar of that failure with you. Always."
In a flash, Abaddon gripped her ankle tighter and with ungodly force hurled her into the canvas, face buried into the mat and unmoving. He was unrelenting as he picked her hulking frame up and slammed her again in the opposite direction, flinging her around like a rag-doll.
"I… I can't believe what I'm seeing! He's throwing her around like she's nothing at all. Who would have ever envisioned this being done to the NFC Openweight Champ?!" This creatures power was horrifying beyond measure, 90 seconds in and he'd thrown her several times before flinging her across the pit and into a wall, head slumped forward and legs outstretched.
"I did not spend a lifetime of pain and suffering toiling against the denizens under the pit; the collective consciousness of so many people's fears, superstitions and cultures, just to fall short here against a mortal. Even a powerful one." The locusts screeched, and he pulled out a blade from his armour.
3 minutes.
"One slice from this and you will begin to rot from the inside out. It will consume your flesh, your bones and your soul. Once the rot has sufficiently spread and you are nothing more, I will take what remains as a memento, before moving onto… bigger things." His gaze flashed up at me and I felt the incessant buzzing in my head, more images flashing; A bald, beautiful woman in a fancy suit with the most unnerving grin about her. A young man in a dark suit with a pompadour and cold, dead eyes. A shadow with a monstrous spider-like face, devouring an unseen infant with glee. All of them flashing rapidly in front of me as they turn to stare in the same way Abaddon does. Cocking their head to the side, eyes narrowing ever so slightly and a twisted grin across their faces.
"They're the same. How are they the same?" I grabbed my head and felt faint. So much was being thrown at me in such a short amount of time and while it certainly wasn't the physical ordeal, the competitors had gone through, the mental strain was taking its toll. I focused myself, straining my eyes in protest of the splitting headache as the visage of Abaddon pulled out the glimmering black blade, a sickening drone filling the air. An unholy cacophony of suffering became Abaddon's marching music as malformed skeletal hands gripped the blade expertly at the hilt.
4 minutes.
"There is a reason The Abyss Championship was never within your grasp, Alduin." His droning voice undulating around the room. "And now, it never will be."
Bringing the blade down on her head, I don't think anyone expected her to lean into it, grabbing it with her teeth and staring up at Abaddon with eyes awash with passion. The sound of bone meeting steel splitting the air, the sound of grinding as she stood up slowly, purposefully. Her back beginning to split and let loose the dreaded wings. Pulling the sword aside and letting loose, she smashed her skull into Abaddon's and created some distance.
"You got some fight in ya, Abaddon. I like what I see. Let's turn it up a notch, shall we?" Pulling off her eyepatch, a pure white orb situated in her eye socket swivels around until a small symbol appears, fixating on Abaddon.
It's hard to put into words what happened next, but something… changed in Abaddon. Dropping his sword, the locusts swelled and burst around him; the light sending them into a frenzy. He clutched at his head and wailed, moving backwards in a drunken stupor until he fell to a knee, Alduin laughing as she took strides to cut down the distance.
5 minutes.
"You know why I never wanted the Abyss Championship, Abaddon?" She raises a cinderblock fist, every knuckle cracking and the muscles bulging under the pressure she was exuding. She cracked Abaddon on the skull, the force sending dust and wind flying in all directions as his face hit the floor and dragged itself to the adjacent wall. "It's simple; I didn't want it. It was a limiter I didn't need in my competition." Picking him up by the head, she hurled him into the air and waited for him to come down before timing a perfect flying knee to the jaw. He fell in a slump and every time he rose to his feet in defiance, she would strike him harder.
6 minutes. 7 minutes. 8 minutes. 8 and a half.
Looking at the timer, I wondered if this abomination in Abaddon could survive an onslaught by Alduin any longer. But no matter what was thrown at him, he would rise up and cock his head, the bone fragments that made up his jaw pulling at themselves to allow for a hollow smile. He seemed to know something she didn't.
Alduin's bloodlust was only growing. With every shot targeted, her growls and shrieks grew in pitch and fervour. "I like you, Abaddon. You may be the most interesting one yet!" She hunched over, those wings finally emerging from her back. They looked different; red tinged with black, larger and more imposing. In the place of jaws were several large fists, primed and ready to strike. Abaddon laughed, a hollow guttural hiss that when put with the sounds of these locusts, unsettled me to my core. Heaven help who had to face EITHER of these monsters next. His locusts formed in front of him and he reached behind his back for two shorter blades, priming himself for combat.
9 minutes.
"Let's dance, one last time." She grinned, the one working eye glistening as she stepped forward.
"I look forward to it." He hissed, a hint of something familiar in those words.
He pounced, slicing at nothing but air as Alduin backflipped dodged and pirouetted through the air to avoid his blades, small black lines emitting from the afterimage before fading, something dangerous lurking within them. She waited until she had an opportune position in which to strike; his blind spot on his back. Licking her lips, she opened her wings and let the fists explode on him.
9 minutes 30.
Strike after strike rained down on Abaddon, the pressure dropping him to a knee, Alduin's laughter growing more maniacal with every successive blow. The onslaught was unending.
"Now you know why I'm the whore of Babylon; And on her forehead was written a name of mystery: "Babylon, the great mother of prostitutes and of earth's abominations!" She cackled, reciting the unholy scripture and hastening each shot.
9 minutes 50.
It was over in a flash. The timer rung out as Abaddon slipped through the shots and the final pose stood before us;
Alduin, a fist directed at Abaddon's chest.
Abaddon, a pair of blades at Alduin's throat.
The challenge was over.
"UN-BE-LIEVABLE! The two champs of the most terrifying combat sport organisation have just put on a stellar display! Who wins? Who loses? Who cares?! These two titans of terror will now go on to their next challengers. The question on everyone's mind is; who the hell can stop them?!" The crowd gave uproarious applause as the two champions eased off, Alduin placing the patch on her eye and the cloak around her neck, Abaddon's Locusts calming themselves to form his usual black veil.
"A promise is a promise, you're onto the Wildcard finals. Win there, you'll get a rematch with me… or a wish. I look forward to seeing which one it'll be, IF you survive." She punched him lightly in the shoulder and walked off, laughing. "This rounds over, interval starts now! When we return, it'll be to determine the Wildcard winner and who the finals will be consisting of, so you'd best get your bets in now!"
I sat back in my seat, sweating and sickly as the crowd began filing out again.
This tournament will be the death of me.
-
"Rough day, huh?" Nelle's voice rang through my ears and I lifted my head from the desk, hoping I'd not wasted too much time napping. Looking at the clock, it'd been about 45 minutes.
"Not as rough as it'd been for you…what was all that about with the Lycanthrope? Why'd you let him attack you like that? What'd you say?" I couldn't help myself asking, exhaustion and lengthy times spent in this tourney had dulled my ability to be polite. To her credit, she sighed and smiled, offering me a hand.
"Let's walk and talk, there's something I need you to see." I took her hand, and we began walking through the bustling ring of fight fans, armchair experts, martial artists and pundits who were eager to either stay out of our way or hurl abuse.
"Your commentary SUCKS Sabotta! You can't even remember shit from match to match!" One man cried, throwing a drink at my head as we rushed past. "Nelle, you cost me 4 grand when you took that dive. It was supposed to be a flawless victory! You owe me!" Another bellowed, though this time smart enough not to strike her.
"Everyone's a critic, c'mon, we'll take the service elevator." Passing by the eldritch food shack that was now serving "Mr. Moloch's Takeout", I shuddered to think what was in that, but didn't have time to investigate further as Nelle took us down a small alleyway that connected the upper and lower rings.
Someone bumped into us, probably in a hurry themselves, and my grip was separated from Nelle's. Hitting the ground with a thud and still weak from the events, I took my time getting to my feet as the hand was outstretched.
But this time, it wasn't Nelles.
The moment I took her hand, I felt a soft, almost electronic "boom" that dulled all the surrounding noises. Looking at the body the hand belonged to, I came face to face with a young woman. She was no older than 20 at a push, blonde hair flowing down her shoulders and a disarming smile on her face. She pointed to something by her side and my eyes followed her hand to an unusual creature;
A tortoise.
I don't know what or how a huge animal like this was even here, but it looked at me with old, weary eyes. Filled with kindness and wisdom, he rocked his head back and forth before pushing it up against my leg with a small affirmation of joy. I awkwardly petted his head, feeling the love he was giving me but unsure as to why it was there in the first place.
"There's always a cycle. There's always an end." She said, handing me the same card I'd seen on the table a few hours ago. "You are the one to break it."
"I… I don't understand. I'm just an ordinary guy, I don't have anything special about me." I retorted, confused and overwhelmed, expecting her to be annoyed, but she smiled.
"Neither did I, Sal. But, sometimes it just takes a little time and help from our friends." She kneeled down to nuzzle the tortoise. "Malachi has seen so much in his life and beyond that, he knows you're special just like I do. He even picked the name for me after my part had been played, when I defeated Albert... when I no longer wished to be Elizabeth Williams. When I became Sema. That was when I continued the cycle. " I looked at the card, a small albino snake eating its own tail, a powerful king sat behind it on an imposing throne, sceptre in one hand and sword in the other, slicing through the top of the snake with impunity. A small title at the bottom:
"The Emperor."
Looking up, I felt confusion and wanted to ask more, but the two were gone. In their place was a perplexed and frustrated Nelle, ushering me on.
"What are you waiting for? We're on a clock here, Sal. Come on!"
Following her lead, I pocketed the card and entered the small archway that housed the service elevator. She pushed the B3 button and we descended.
"You asked me what that fight was all about? Well, I told you I had my reasons for being here and that we'd be killed if we left. That wasn't entirely true…" She gripped the edges of her gloves. "YOU would be, but I didn't want you to feel alone and more frightened than you understandably were at that moment. But I told Landry that I had something I was fighting for in the NFC. Someone I needed to face…"
"It's Abaddon, right?" I pressed, looking to try and understand her plight. She smiled weakly and looked back at the soft light running through the slit in the elevator.
"The monster I faced was once a man. A beautiful man that taught me the ways of cryptid research, catalogue and, when necessary, hunting. He was my mentor, my friend… my everything. Buck "Nasty" McGraw, the man who caught the scourge of the Monongahela forests, liberator of St. Martin's Land and countless battles against terrors of the night." She smiled and I could see tears in her eyes, her voice cracking as she spoke.
"We found something on one of our last ever hunts. It lurked in something we called "The Cave Of The Void", it waited in the deep and the dark for us to make a mistake. It… took Buck. Twisted him into something otherworldly and fed off of him, producing new creatures while building its form and growing stronger. I fled and recuperated, learning along the way that there was a chance to stop this thing buried in an ancient tradition. A cycle, if you will. Alduin knew I had my reasons for being here and so she saw fit to torment me with a fragment of what Buck is now. I did what I had to and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
She turned to look at me, sincerity and pain plastered over her face.
"Because that's not my Buck. Not anymore. I don't know what I'd have done if I hadn't ventured down here and seen what they're keeping in the belly of the beast, I'd have never had the courage to set him free…"
The doors opened to a blacked out room the size of a warehouse, small lights flickering to life as we stepped out.
When the room was fully illuminated, I screamed.
On one side of the building were an endless sea of beds with humans of all ages and sizes strapped into their frames. Metallic, bloodied shackles strapped around their emaciated joints. Their eyes pried open with thin pincers, pupils dilated and eyes darting around constantly. A thick, rusted feeding tube running down the course of their gullet and into their stomach, their muffled screams growing louder as they felt activity around them.
"Oh my god, they're aware?!" I cried out, wanting to rush over but knowing better. Nelle shook her head. "To a degree, but they're dreaming. Always dreaming. These are where the failed captives go, the missing people we don't care about. The losers of those bumfights and dark web contests. The NFC shoves them down here, hooked up to their special machines to do… well, you'll see."
I look back in horror as one bed near us houses a thrashing, terrified woman. She shrieks and chokes on the feeding tube until it roars to life, her essence slowly ebbing away as something black and formless is ripped from her mouth, the tube running up the rafters and towards a large machine in the centre. As it finishes its journey, a creature is dropped into the central chamber, soaking wet with fluids and screeching.
It's a Strigoi. A Romanian Vampire, to be exact.
As soon as it spies us, it tries to rip through the bars and lunge at us unsuccessfully. The central chamber whirs to life and something unseen throws The Strigoi into a now-open portion of the chamber, along a small walkway and into a cage with food and a bed, alongside thousands of others housing ungodly figures big and small.
"This is where the supply of Nightmares comes from. This is why I need your help to take this place down."
I couldn't count how many nightmares there were, rattling their cages incessantly. Nor could I tell how many victims there were strapped to their beds in an endless nightmare until they were used up.
I felt my world crash around me, able to only speak briefly before I felt myself grow faint.
"This is where the NFC gets its roster."