I'll be the first to say what I did was unprofessional. I broke protocol, climbed down from my commentary booth amid the sounds of boos and jeers from experts, Zunkle trying to reach for me as I ran the length of the imposing pit and towards my friend.
Before I could make it to her body, however, someone stepped out and shot me a glance that froze me in my tracks.
It was Wendy. Her mask stained in red that trickled down her chin and eyes alight with rage. At this distance, in the same pit where many had already been slaughtered, I felt very much like a man who'd stepped into a tiger pit.
"You have a job to do, Mr. Sabotta. I strongly suggest you get your ass back up to that booth, because things are going to get messy." She stared up at the empty throne room where Alduin usually sat, calling out to the MIA champ. "Alduin! Bring me Abaddon, now!"
I stared at her for a moment before my body willed me back up to the side of the pit and Zunk graciously yanked me up by the collar, concern wracking his tired face.
"I can't take you anywhere, can I? Look, there's time to figure out what happened with Nelle, but we have a job to do. Once this is over, we can discuss next options, kay? Keep it together, Sal." Before I could even reply, a manic laughter rippled from the throne room and Alduin's voice boomed out;
"Since she's not yet passed her semifinal match, let's give her the next challenger!"
The elevator roared to life as the sound of dozens of footsteps, scratches and incoherent babbling grew in intensity as the elevator reached its destination and came to a screeching halt. As the doors opened and the multitude of eyes, teeth and claws tore at the doors to get out quicker, the lights were switched off and Alduin's voice tore through the stunned silence.
"BEGIN!"
NFC WILDCARD SEMIFINAL MATCH: "WENDIGO" WENDY HATHALE VS THE TEIHIIHAN
With the lights out and the sole lights coming from my recording equipment and a sea of at least 12 pairs of hungry, ravenous eyes darting around the place, I was unsure I'd be able to accurately provide commentary. After all, seeing and providing context is my job. Still, I persevered.
"Fight fans, I apologise for my lack of professionalism a few moments ago. Being unbiased is a part of the job, but when it's a dear friend, you struggle to quantify the line between professional and personal. I hope you'll forgive me and you'll be thankful to know Zunkle is back to keep me in check. Zunk, we've got ourselves our very last semifinal match of the Wildcard Tourney with a power outage! What happens next?"
Zunk stared down at the darkness below before his eyes fell upon the iPod still connected, spying Wendy's playlist and letting a small grin slip across his face for a moment as he saw the song playing.
"I think what happens next is we see just how far righteous anger can take someone, Sal."
Sure enough, as soon as he hit play and we directed our attention down to the pit, we could see flashes of brilliant light as these small creatures darted about the place, each looking for an opening in Wendy's guard to strike. Their bodies were small, nimble, and the ribs exposed as dark brown skin stretched across them like thin paper. Flecks of drool foamed around their mouths and the eyes, bulbous with a sickly yellow, somehow widening when they spied their chance to dive for Wendy.
The realisation hit me and I felt a mixture of horror and disgust wash over me. Looking at the Compendium for guidance only confirmed my suspicions.
Some of these were children.
The Teihiihan were a mixture of warriors that'd fallen in battle, and the others were inexplicably still kids. But the Cheyenne and Arapaho cultures had another title for their dreaded legends, named after the hunger they embodied in their emaciated frames; The Little Cannibals.
Wendy, to her credit, kept her gaze firmly upon the empty throne room and even in the flashes of light we were getting from god knows where, she did not move until they lunged.
Then, she struck.
In a scene as beautiful as it was horrifying, she leaned back while maintaining her stance, allowed the first of these creatures to lunge forward and swiped at its underbelly, spilling the insides across her torso as it flailed on the floor, two of its cohorts rushing over to feed upon it.
The next was no more fortunate than the last, going for her legs as she nodded her head to the beat and brought her leg up at the right time, stamping down on the skull in tandem with the beat until the crunching gave way to a sickening squelch. She did not cease even then, goading the remainder to come forward.
So it went, two would rush forward and both would be caught in midair, hands flailing deftly and screeching as a flash of brilliance highlighted the others tentatively stepping forward as Wendy's hands grew, claws stuck out and pierced the sides of their skulls, squeezing on the head until a popping sound rang out. Casting them aside, she practically danced as she threw the two corpses to a group on her left, directing her attention to the right as she did so. Ducking down, she darted forward and span her arms around, slicing at anything within her range.
When she was clear to the other side, 6 more gripped their necks, stomachs and eyes as they fall into a heap.
The two that were feeding now directing their blood stained faces towards her as they leapt into the air, mouths open to chew away at her flesh. She responded by simply sticking a fist out and allowing one to chew on her; the latter being swiped mid-air, taking the head clean off. She held this final one up as an example to the crowd, her expression unchanged even when bathed in this light.
"Do you like hurting other people?" She asked, seemingly to nobody as the main spotlight began to flicker to life, intermixing with the deep purple. She tensed her arm, and it grew, the small creature desperately trying to get away, scratching at her forearm in vain with the teeth no longer clamping onto the free skin. In a flash, she ripped the tongue and organs from its mouth, throwing them into the air as she held the remains of the skin and bones, using them as a bat to smash the viscera towards the throne room. Towards Alduin.
There was a splatter, droplets of blood falling down from on high as the crowd cheered the absolute carnage Wendy had left in her wake. She pulled down her mask, and it became obvious where the blood from before the match had come from;
She'd been so fraught with rage that she'd bitten clean through her bottom lip, the blood soaking her chin and the teeth clenched and caked in a dark crimson.
"I do. I will rip and tear everything you put in front of me." She cracked her neck with malice as the song began to fade.
"Give. Me. Abaddon. NOW."
-
As the clean-up crew worked around an indignant Wendy, I began my end-match spiel. But something felt off, both in how I felt and the surrounding atmosphere. It was the same as that perpetual moment of losing your balance and falling, but stretched out to impossible lengths. A sense of dread washed over me, seeping into my bones and gripping me with the same fear I felt back in the cafeteria.
"This is how it always goes, you know. There's always a struggle, there's always a goal, and there is always…"
Hand's grip on my throat and squeeze, my chest burning and arms refusing to fight back, fingers tensed and toes curled in protest, but I could not break away. I could feel my eyes bulging as the world started to fade.
"A great loss."
Flashes of moments I'd never experienced once again flooding my mind; a thick underbrush with a younger Nelle, a bar with hooded figures, a manor house with a monstrous skeletal hulking mass out the window, a flight over the seas of the dead with innumerable figures rushing through the seats to reach for me, a hotel with floor after floor of incomprehensible terror… and then, an isolation room.
Looking around, it was pure white, a basic bed and toilet with nothing else to focus on. A straight-jacket wrapped around my body and as I turned, I saw someone peering through the slit in the door at me. Two pairs of eyes, to be exact. One upside down, a thick mono brow stretching across their forehead and curling into a shape on their forehead, eyes wide and bloodshot, their hands and feet tapping at the frame of the door impatiently. The pair that were right side up were half open, milky white and gazing around the room.
"You have repeated this tale so many times and it ends the same. We have tried guiding you, whispering in your ear and pointing you in the right direction. But it seems a more… direct approach is necessary. We see many forks in the road and paths to take. We can only point you to the right one." The voice below called out after repeated tapping from the one above. "She… WE feel that you will not understand without our direct invention. Our goal is to end the cycle, to put a stop to the violence. At any costs."
My head swirls, I feel the need to wrench my arms free, but I'm unable to do so. I simply stare ahead and ask what comes to mind without thinking.
"Why can't that one tell me? What does this mean? How the fuck did you put me here when I was JUST in the pit?" I was growing frustrated, the fear ever-present, but my fight or flight instinct kicking in. She sighs and the tapping resumes as furtive eyes above burn with anger.
"She cannot speak. Clodagh sees what I don't, but hears what I, Moirah, cannot. We are two of three sisters that are tasked with ensuring you go on the right path, as all things should. SO many have died because of your conflict, and we cannot abide it. You are a part of something that has existed in a balance for aeons, and it is up to us to end the cycle. We brought you here to help you remember, to help you act. As for the pit…" She clicked her fingers and one of my arm restraints grew loose. As I moved it, she beckoned me closer, and the air trembled around the door as I took each step, offering out a hand through the slit that, despite my better instincts, I walked towards it and took it. The second I got into range, she gripped me tightly. Her brown skin starting to tinge an ugly puce, the veins coming to the surface and pumping rhythmically with the beating on the door as Clodagh began smashing her skull against the metal frame. I could hear something muffled in the distance, the beat of a drum.
Flashes of images flooded my mind as I saw the visages of my friends laying dead at my feet; Rex, Landry, Zunkle, Nelle… Nora. All laying at the feet of Alduin and Abaddon, both laughing in utter madness, hands soaked in the blood and guts of every competitor. Everyone I loved. Overhead hung a black sun, the dazzling glow casting both of these beasts in an unholy glow.
"You never left. We just needed you to reach out and set the next reaction to an action, through a little divine intervention. Music is something that transcends time, space and reality, it holds within it so many emotions and ties that cannot be broken. Some embolden the weak and others decimate the strong. We're most curious to see what this one will do…"
The visage of these two women in front of me flickers in and out, like a television losing signal. Before I realise anything was wrong, I'm sat back in the booth and my hand is outstretched onto the next song and Zunkle is staring at me quizzically, ready to switch the volume dial back to an even number.
Sure enough, the screaming of locusts joins the music as a weathered Abaddon glides from the dug-out, still holding at his skull where the jagged wound sits, decidedly less of his locust swarm with him as exposed bone and scratch marks are visible from his previous battle.
Alduin walked back to the throne room, cape wrapped around her and arms folded as she grinned.
"You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention, Wendigo Wendy. Its looks like we've already reached the end of The Wildcard Tournament! Only two remain and the winner will meet Eustace De Kolta & Nora Zayne in the Openweight Grand Prix Finals. I'm excited to see who has the balls to do what needs to be done, who among ya is ready?!" She screams into the mic, the crowd cheering. Some for Abaddon, a lot for Wendy, who had by this point hunched down onto all-fours and kept her eyes locked on a stoic Abaddon.
"I don't give a fuck about any of that. I just don't want to lose another friend to a fucking animal like this, to a tournament that pits unwitting contestants against creatures in a game they KNOW they'll lose. I'll take him out before he can go any further. And then… I'm coming for you, bitch."
Alduin chuckled and threw her hand in the air to signal the start of the bout.
"BEGIN!"
NFC WILDCARD FINALS: "WENDIGO" WENDY HATHALE VS NFC ABYSS CHAMPION ABADDON THE DESTROYER
Perhaps it was the fear of losing respect from the crowd. Maybe it was a desire to finish things quickly and heal up, but Abaddon did not hesitate to rush forward. Throwing his locusts in front of him like a thick cloud, this was the first time his entire frame was visible for all to see. A thick metallic plate covered his lower half, inscriptions littering the sides and a black belt holding it together, two small holsters for his swords on either side. He was nimble, so much so that within just a few seconds he was behind Wendy and striking her with a blow to the back of the skull, the force sending her flying across the pit. The locusts were waiting for her body to drop, picking her back up and holding her in place as Abaddon ran in for another strike.
"A stunning start to what we could argue is both the finals AND a grudge match! Wendigo Wendy showcasing how much this fight means to her personally as well as the desire to take on our queen of the NFC. But as Abaddon has shown us in his last fight, he is the Abyss Champion for a reason. What do you think will happen next, Zunk?"
Zunkle leaned back in his chair and pulled some food out of his bag, a piping hot Stromboli that he took a hearty bite out of. I stared for a moment at his lackadaisical approach, waiting for him to finish.
"I think we've only just begun to see the violent delights this tourney has. And seeing all this competition, this bloodshed… it's making me hungry. Not just for food, but for my own shot in that pit. I'll tell you one thing though; Abaddon is making a grave mistake rushing forward."
Looking down, Abaddon connected once again with Wendy. This time a kick to the side of the neck that drove her into the side of the pit with a sickening thud.
"You are mortal here, Wendy. You cannot rely on those gifts from your own home. For here, you are nothing more than another nightmare in my division to be conquered. I have my own desires for this tournament that cannot be stopped or interfered with and rest assured; I will take as many of yours or HIS friends as I need to in order to get there." He shot a glance at me and for that moment, my hairs stood on end. Even just having him gaze at me sent me into a panic.
"Well, you're unfortunately going to have a tough night, Abaddon." Wendy coughed, pushing herself up and cracking her neck, bruises and cuts all over her body. "Because now I know what you are, where you come from and my role in all this, I can't let you progress any further."
Abaddon cocked his head to the side, and the locusts returned, forming around his arms as he began to pull at his swords. Both of them. Where the shimmering black was familiar, the sickly bright white of the alternative blade was a new kind of horrifying; faces etched in permanent suffering rippled across its fine steel and a soft moan lashed out as he swiped it through the air, crossing both blades in front of him.
"You are a bold and arrogant one, child. But I have seen where your path began and I know what you are, where you came from and what you did. You were powerless to stop death then, and you are no different here."
He began inching forward, careful not to dash into her guard. Wendy stretched back and for the first time in a long time; she smiled.
"Y'know, back where I'm from, in the Hotel... We have this guy Sigurd Jónsson, but we call him "Ros", he's a total music head. Arrogant, rash and full of the worst jokes you'll ever hear. He saved me from a cycle of violence in my own community, bringing me into his without even realising it. He didn't make it out of there, at least... not in the way we wanted him to. But that's because he made a choice to stand and protect the things he knew were important, even if his dumb brave ass didn't realise it at the time." She flexed her fingers, and the joints grew with the nails, looking down at them with curiosity and melancholy.
Abaddon inched closer. He was almost in range.
"I guess we're pretty similar, in the end. That's why he's a brother to me. But, there's one big difference between him and I." Abaddon lunged and slashed with the swords. A horrid groan left the white sword as it hit nothing but air. Wendy leapt into the air and landed on Abaddon's shoulders, hand tensed like a spider ready to bite.
"I'm not bound by that cycle anymore and that means I will do ANYTHING to pull him from it."
She drove her hand into the wound on Abaddon's skull, and immediately the atmosphere changed. There were no screams. There was no time. The locusts stood in place, silent and paralysed as Abaddon mirrored them. She stood there for a moment before releasing her hand, covered in a thick tar-like substance and jumped down, throwing her fist into the air to uproarious cheers. Alduin jumped down, clapping slowly and mic in hand.
"Well, I'll be… the kid's got skill. I live only for the best competition and you just proved exactly why this is the best fuckin' tournament out there. You're in the finals, kid. Good luck…" Alduin's eye flashed, and she looked past Wendy to the sight of Eustace De Kolta sauntering into the centre of the pit to greet her, Nora standing at the foot of the dugout, one leg raised and arms folded, watching.
"A pleasure to watch, despite your… maladies." He extended a hand that Wendy reluctantly took before he raised it into the air to louder cheers. "I'll be taking him for now, wouldn't want him interfering in our bout, would we?"
In a moment both relieving and horrifying, Eustace clapped his hands and laid the satchel down as his first pet from the opening round crawled out; the devourer. It reached for the still frozen body of Abaddon and as soon as its pale fingers had a solid grip on him, it ripped him from where he stood and dragged him into the satchel, locusts and all.
Alduin, to her credit, laughed heartily.
"And there's our second finalist, The Nightmare Catcher Eustace De Kolta! Now adding the Abyss Champion to his repertoire, though I don't think he'll be able to hold him for long, he still has a near endless supply of horrors in that satchel!" She cast her eyes to the dug-out and as soon as Nora saw her, she walked forward. Perhaps determined not to let Alduin get even a moral high ground on her, let alone a physical one. "And lest we forget our third and last but by no means least competitor in the finals. Someone I'm sure will do great things… Nora Fucking Zayne!"
As the crowd cheered and confetti rained down, the computer screen held up a timer once more to signal the interval. Zunkle got to his feet and with eyes focused on the ground, thanked me profusely, his enthusiasm causing his voice to raise slightly louder than he intended.
"Sorry, sorry. Got a… lot on my mind, y'know? The NFC granted my match with Malphas and… well, I better get ready. But Sal, don't judge me for what you see down there, okay? I may be Zunkle now, but I'll always be The Jersey Devil, I hope when you call the fight, you give it everything you've got. Because I sure as hell will." He patted me on the shoulder before heading off as Alduin finished her announcements.
"3 hours time, we will crown the NFC OpenWeight Grand Prix Winner and the next contender to my title, betting odds and food are open now. See you soon!"
Eustace chuckled as he let Wendy's hand go and began walking back, a bitterness to his voice.
"It's a shame we have to do this, if you weren't what you are, I think we'd be friends. But given your showing here, it's clear that you're no different to the rest of the division… to what my family dealt with before."
"Oh yeah? How d'you figure that, David Blaine?" She snarked, folding her arms and wincing from her wounds. He stopped and held up a hand as he circled around, a concerned look on his face intermixed with an uncontrollable excitement that I could sense even from here. Though I knew I had to rush to the infirmary and more uncertainty gripped me now than it had done when I stepped through those doors, I also knew that the finals were going to be the bloodiest of them all.
"Because after that showing, I sense there's a changing of the guard. One that would send a dangerous message to the far-reaches of all worlds." He slings his satchel over his back and as I make my way to see my friends, those last words ring in my ears and once again bring forth the mentions of the cycle those strange women whispered into my ears;
"The only thing the NFC fears now… is you."