Vatu, Vixus, and Faye are sober this time as they watch me from the arena stands. Dior has her hands deep into the popcorn bag and stares at me without a care.
The crowd goes wild at the sight of me re-entering the hellhound arena. I hate the sound. It hurts my ears.
Chants of my nickname echo throughout the stage as I prepare myself to face the next ghoul they will put in front of me.
It has been three days since my first appearance and everyday I have appeared in the arena, failing to portray the weak and helpless character that Zara wants me to.
I try. On gods I try. I try really really hard; but every time I slip up and get swallowed, I end up clawing my way out, recreating the gruesome sight that created my cult following.
I continue to pray over the victims I slay and the nickname lives on: Ghoul Whisperer. A visceral cringe enters my being at every mention of it.
I've had several highlights of me looking helpless, being thrashed around by various ghouls, tossed, ragdolled, and used as a chewtoy;
but when it comes time for me to kill it, I lock eyes with its helpless little eyes and I sink into them, reminiscing of our pure hearted Panpun back home.
I just can't do it. These domesticated bred ghouls aren't like the savages of the abyss; but they are still desperate to survive.
So when I give them the chance to eat me, they do. It all goes to shit when I drown in its stomach and claw my way out.
You'd think I'd learn my lesson by the third try, hell by the hundredth try by now, but nooooo, I'm just a soft hearted bitch.
This new ghoul has cute features. It is a giant gerbil. A low tier ghoul that studies its surroundings before laying its large round eyes on mine.
Fuck, It's happening again. I can already hear Zara scolding me in a few hours. Dior seems to not give a shit, as if she wanted this all along.
She cheers for me to win just like the others in the crowds; although I'm not so sure if she's doing it to fit in or doing it in hopes that I actually become some kind of legendary icon when I enter the academy.
I am once again frozen in place as the cute ball of flesh eating monster marches towards me. I'm trapped in my head. Too deep in pity and mercy.
The crowd goes wild, knowing what happens when it eats me. They think this is some kind of sick game I'm playing.
They think I'm toying with my food, allowing the ghoul to think it's achieved victory by letting it eat me, only for me to brutally slaughter it, clawing out of it from its insides.
I close my eyes and I can see… Panpun, our sweet little pup back at home. But this isn't him. The fate of our entire operation lies within my mission of making myself look the fool.
Damn, I need to get ahold of myself. I open my eyes just as it approaches me. I can feel the fear welling deep inside its gut.
The ghoul knows I'm capable of annihilating it. All creatures who have been forced to fend for their lives have a sense of the gap in power between their opponents and themselves.
I for one have never sensed that fear. My fear derives from my lack of control. My inability to protect those I love and my incompetence in tactics.
This is my chance to prove myself. The giant gerble's mouth opens, centimeters from my face, ready to tear it off.
This time, instead of being caught my surprise, I prepare myself for the lack of air I'll soon be encountered with.
My enchanted lungs breath in compact air to maximize the efficiency of holding my breath. Just as I fill it to the brim, the ghouls chomps down on my neck and proceeds to rag doll me.
I can hear the crowd chant my name. This is usual to their routine; but I can make out an unusual break in the cadence. Dior and Soza shout at me.
They sound concerned. Huh, that's weird. My head stays on and my skin doesn't break, no matter how hard the ghoul tries.
Eventually, as all the ghouls of the hellhound has done before, it chucks me in the air and swallows me whole.
The crowd gasps in awe, not in any concern for me, but in anticipation of my glorious carnage that is about to ensue.
The bile in its throat reeks of dead flesh as I slide into its digestive organs. I hold back my gag and stay calm.
I have enough breath to make it for over an hour. What is my plan exactly?
Well instead of bursting out of its stomach and brutally killing it. I plan to swim past its stomach, straight out of its anus.
Nothing more humiliating than getting shat out by a ghoul. Hopefully that will dispel the rumors of my terrifying legend.
I wiggle my way through its tracts, fighting the urge to vomit, focusing only on making it out of this thing without killing the creature or myself.
I can hear echoes of the crowd roaring past the layer of blubber I'm burried under. The ghoul moves slowly, trying to walk off the bulging snack it just swallowed.
I can sense that I am near its asshole when suddenly a buildup of gas shoots me out, launching me out of its anus like a rocket.
My eyes water from the sheer rancid stench of the fart. I land on the ground with a thud, covered in shit and rotting flesh;
But there's a new coating of familiar liquid around my head. Warm, yellow ghouls blood drips down my face.
Oh no. I slowly pan back to look at the creature. It's rear is ruptured and it squeals in pain as it spasms and bleeds out.
I mutter curses under my breath.
It's a horrifying sight but the crowd goes wild cheering my name and adding new compliments to the mountain of already made up ones.
"The whisperer continues his reign! He's like a magician, coming up with new ways to entertain us!"
My legendary status only expands and my fans drink in the fantasy they've created of me.
I lock eyes with Dior, she's smiling from ear to ear. The other friends are all applauding with a look of terror on their face.
***
I can hear Zara's menacing voice through the bathroom door. I have just washed off all the grime from the hellhound but the true hell has only just begun.
"We have two days… two days to change this narrative! How did you guys manage to fuck it up this bad?" Zara shouts in Dior's face.
Dior shrugs and reaches into her bag of chips. I have just stepped out of the shower, dressed only by my towel around my waist, and this is the scene I am greeted with.
"Listen… I'm trying okay? I think this plan was doomed to fail off jump. This isn't looking too good for us…" I mutter under tired breath. It's been a long day.
Zara studies my flawless skin. Even though I've been ragdolled and tossed like a chew toy by a lethal ghoul, I don't have a single mark on my body.
I blush under her gaze and she averts it when she notices.
"I'm going to get dressed, we can talk over dinner." I say.
"There's nothing to talk about. It's fucked… it is what it is…" Perada says from the couch.
"How can you say that?!" Zara snaps.
Their voices fade as I close my bedroom door and change into my night gown. I put on my fuzzy bathrobe and a pair of boxers that was gifted to me by Dior on our first trip to the vendors.
It has a colorful dragon on it. It's her way of teasing my marking. I like the way it looks though. I think it's the first gift I've ever received after my mothers pendant.
I've learned to leave that behind before going into the fights. Wouldn't want to ruin the smell.
I put it on and enter into the chaos that awaits me outside.