Proud to be a Sheep
Act II: Chapter 7
"Some monsters, believe it or not, managed to evolve into more civilized beings. Allowing them to blend in with society and hide among the crowds of humanity. Their true nature, however, rarely changes."
Justifying what I'm about to do with what the journal said, I went to find an underground arena that night, wearing a hoodie Echo gave me before coming here. "Take this, it gets very cold at night," he said, unaware of my plans. He wasn't wrong, it was freezing that night. I retouched the hoodie before heading out, adding streaks of blood red ink outlines, making the hoodie look different from what it used to look like. More badass, I would say. When I entered the arena, or tavern, more like, the temperature immediately warmed me up. The place was filled with sweaty men drinking beer served by waitresses wearing very suggestive clothing, covering only the spots that needed to be covered.
The waitresses in the tavern wore clothing that accentuated their figure, with a low-cut bodice that revealed ample cleavage and a tightly laced corset that cinched their waists. The skirts were shorter than typical, showing off their legs, and their blouses were slightly off-shoulder, drawing attention to their necklines. All of them wore pretty makeup, trying their best to seduce a male client into spending more time with them. They seemed confident, they were smiling, but none of them seemed truly comfortable, much less honestly happy.
I ignored my thoughts before I went off into another dialogue with myself and went to the bar at the far back of the tavern, past the fighting arena, where a Sireno, a fish with humanoid features and a body, was fighting with the monster I was looking for. The monster I need.
I took the closest seat to the bartender and asked for a drink. Even though I am, or was, only 16, I still had to play the part. I took my hood off and revealed a set of horns.
A Faun's horns are identical to those of a goat, they can curl in a spiral from the top of the head and extend outward and back, or they could do a simple curve, giving an evil, more devil-like look. They are textured with natural ridges, giving them a rugged, earthy appearance. The horns are often in a natural shade of brown or black.
"Quite a good-looking Faun you are." Said the bartender. "You almost look like a devil. What brought you here?"
"I want a shot at that ring."
The bartender lets out a condescending laugh, "With your skinny ass? Kid, do you even see that Aswang that almost killed the Sireno? It'll take one blow from him to send you back to Satan."
"I need to fight. And I won't die if that's what you're worried about." Though I doubt he's worried about me dying. He's probably more worried about where to hide the body if I did die. And if anyone will come looking for me.
The bartender, with his black vest and white polo, stood up, revealing himself to be the tallest man I've ever met (not including Tago, of course). He stared down at me through his well-kept moustache, and smiled. "Alright then, you'll have your turn. Stand by, we'll notify you."
So he thinks I would sell, huh? I'm glad he thinks a fight with me would do well with the audience. Be it for a good reason or a bad one, I really don't care. I wanted that Aswang's blood.
I waited in the tavern's bar, making sure my preparations are set. It seemed like I had everything I needed, and the only thing left to do now is watch and wait. The Aswang had a fighting style somewhat similar to Echo, he would attack very quickly and back off almost immediately. Poking, I thought, remembering the games I used to play. Welp, this should go as planned.
After 6 consecutive wins and the crowd cheering for the Aswang (he almost had a fanbase at that point), they closed the lights off all of a sudden. "UNDEFEATED. UNRIVALED. UNSCAVED. WILL AYSON REMAIN CHAMPION FOR THE WHOLE NIGHT?"
Ayson? That gave me motivation…
"THOSE WHO THINK THEY STAND A CHANCE," They turned on focused spotlights, and waved them around the audience, "STEP UP! AND FACE THE CHAMPION!!!"
I raised my hand, revealing razor-sharp fingers coloured with blood. I stared at Ayson, who stared right back at me. Smiling, confident, laughing. He licks his pointed teeth with his tongue, salivating like a hungry dog. Did the adrenaline get to him? An Aswang would usually act more carefully than threatening.
An Aswang is a fearsome creature, with a range of terrifying powers. It is renowned for its shape-shifting abilities, allowing it to transform into various animals, which helps it stalk its prey or evade detection. Additionally, the Aswang can become invisible, making it even more elusive and dangerous. It is also known for its ability to suck the blood or consume the flesh of its victims.
He is exactly what I need.
Ayson jumped out of the ring, and landed right in front of my face. His stinky breath oozes out of his mouth as he whispers, "I eat your kind for supper…" I stayed silent, staring at his twisted and sinister face. He tried acting like he was about to bite me with his sharp, elongated fangs, protruding from his gaping mouth. It's perfect for tearing into flesh or sucking blood, I thought. His eyes glowed through the darkness, a predatory gleam that intensified in the dark, reflecting an unnatural yellow hue. His nose was hooked, reminding me of a bat, and his face's skin looked so leathery and gaunt, giving it a skeletal, almost decaying look, with pronounced cheekbones and a forehead that may furrow in a permanent scowl. I wonder if there's dermatologists left in this day and age. Or maybe even a dentist, I mean, my guy's teeth are—
"HEY." Ayson shouted, "I'm talking to you." He said, growling each word like a beast, trying to intimidate me, sending me a message. You're a prey, who walked right into the hands of its predator.
"Sorry, I wasn't listening. Could you repeat that?" He grabbed my hoodie and tossed me into the ring. It didn't hurt, but I felt the impact. He, too, entered the ring, slowly, menacingly, walking towards me.
"You think this is a joke?"
"Nah, but you're not someone I need to take seriously." Good. Keep it up.
He lunged towards me, head first, with his mouth wide open. I managed to dodge his attempt to bite me. That was too fast, next attack.
"You're weak." He said, as he transformed his fingers into claws similar to the ones I currently have. He slashed at me multiple times, with some of his hits almost grazing me, but none giving me a cut. The fight went on like that for some time. Ayson throwing away slashes and bite attempts, and me simply just dodging.
"WHY AREN'T YOU FIGHTING BACK?" Someone in the crowd shouted.
"YEAH, WHAT THE FUCK?" Another one followed.
"GIVE US A FIGHT!"
"WHAT THE HELL ARE WE WATCHING?"
"FUCK THIS MAN!"
"THE HELL IS THIS??"
They're right. Why aren't I fighting back?
It's because you're weak.
No I'm not? I'm literally not getting hit.
Congrats, you're good enough to survive a fight. But still too weak to win it.
…
It's the perfect chance as well. Didn't you inject yourself earlier for this exact reason? You knew you couldn't do it without the syringe. But even under its influence, you're still far too weak to do what you have to.
…
What fear are you afraid of? What guilt are you avoiding? What are you running away from? What kindness do you have to fake? You've always had it in you, but you were too weak to face the consequences.
But now, there's nothing in your way.
When you feel nothing, then there's nothing you can't do. Nothing you can't achieve.
You're now free to reach for whatever it is you've ever wanted.
The only question now is: Will you, or won't you?
I closed my eyes, took a short, deep breath, and opened them. Everything became yellow once more, but no longer was I scared. In fact, it felt… Comforting? Correct? Right? As if the universe was telling me that I was doing the thing I'm meant to do.
Ayson's movements seemed slow, predictable even. He took one more slash, and I grabbed his right wrist with my left hand. He seemed surprised, but he tried to seize the opportunity to bite me. It was clear he was after the arm I used to grab him. So, I simply placed my right hand right in front of the area where he was lunging for, and stabbed my claws right into his eyes.
We fell to the floor. Ayson's back took all of the impact. He let out a screech of pain, similar to the sound of a pig squealing after getting stabbed. Or more accurately, a bat trying to run for its life. Ayson tried backing away, throwing slashes and kicking everywhere. I took some cuts and hits, and pressed my finger further into his eye sockets, injecting it. Earning me another screech. The loudest one yet. One that was no longer a cry of pain but now seemingly a cry for help. He kept screeching, twisting and turning, screaming for help every now and then, but no one could move a muscle. My fingers came loose because of how slippery the blood was, and Ayson got freed. I guess it's full now.
Ayson turned his back on me, from the floor, crawling away into the corner. His escape attempt was sad; he was moving no faster than a worm, and his arms were too shaky to catch a good grip on the ring's flat wooden floor. His blood dripped all the way down from his face to his fingertips, spreading it across where he crawled, and the spectators were all silent. I didn't understand, most of the previous battles turned out like this. They cheered for monsters biting and clawing each other to near death, but why are they silent now? Am I supposed to end it more painlessly and quickly? I mean, I can do that if they want me to.
Ayson let out another screech, one that was soft and tired, almost like a sigh, and the bartender screeched back. The bartender lunged at the ring, his eyes glowing blood red and revealing a set of bony wings from his back. Are they related? I pulled out the Fountain Pen hidden in my sleeves, revealing the small tubes connecting it to my claws. I bled out the pen all over my body.
"One of the Aswang's abilities is to turn invisible." Said the journal.
The bartender then hacked, slacked, bit, and screeched. Every direction, every person he could reach, every smell he could sniff. He tried his best to slash thin air, but I was already far gone. I also left behind a little safety measure, in case I ran out of ink for the exam.