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Chapter 13 - Chapter 13: Endless Tourment: The Last Straw

More and more wolves just seemed to keep coming until finally something inside Alex snapped. Lying in the snow, covered in blood from the cuts in his skin, a wave of anger suddenly welled up in him.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be some sort of hero, right? Strong enough to fight back, to survive. But here he was, reduced to a worthless, no good, broken shell.

His fists were clenched, the knuckles white with strain, a scream torn from his throat. "No! I won't die like this!"

With one final surge of strength, Alex swung his sword wildly, catching one of the wolves across its muzzle.

It yelped in surprise and backed up. For a moment, the pack faltered. Alex took that moment to scramble to his feet, his body hollering protest as he tottered backward, hardly able to keep upright.

 

But it didn't matter. He knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Later that night, back in his cell, Alex was lying on the cold stone floor, panting heavily. His body was deeply lacerated, his skin distorted by wolf bites.

The fight had left him more shattered than ever; he had never felt this weak.

Yet another day arose, no different from any other.

The heavy iron gate slowly went up, revealing the arena once more. Alex took a deep breath-he was still in agony from the fight yesterday. His muscles all hurt, and his wounds were not fresh.

He had barely recovered, but they did not care, so it was amusing for the demon king and all his minions that he was at their mercy. Their cruel laughter was ringing in his ears as he was pushed forward.

This time it was something with razor-sharp claws and glowing red eyes, another beast designed to break him. Alex hefted his sword, his hands shaking.

The weapon was too heavy in his hands, his arms too weak to hold it up properly. He had no chance of winning, but he had to fight. He had no other choice.

In an instant, the creature was upon him; its terrifying speed made it so that Alex barely dodged it. He fell to the ground-his wobbly legs managing to swing his sword in a weak gesture of fending off the attack.

The blade missed its mark and the creature retaliated, its claws tearing into Alex. The pain was instant, sharp, and cut through his side like fire.

Alex gritted his teeth, willpower stronger than his body as it forced him onto his feet. He couldn't let them see him fall, not yet.

But with each step, with every swing of his sword, he felt his body grow weaker and slower. His trash stats made every little thing in the world harder.

No matter how much he tried, no matter how much he fought-he was always one step behind. His health was too low, his strength too pitiful. Just couldn't keep up with monsters they threw at him.

The creature knocked him to the floor, and Alex gasped in pain. The vision blurred, his breathing struggle beginning as blood flowed from the new wounds.

His sword fell loose from his grasp, clattered upon the ground uselessly as the beast hovered over him-which, in another instance, would plunge an assault into his heart once more.

But then the guards came along, pulling him out of the arena just in time before the creature could deliver the finishing touches.

The less and less Alex knew it: the beatings down, the draggings back to his cell, the recovering just enough until the next round. It was endless, a nightmare with no wake-up call into a new reality.

### Chapter 8: The Last Straw

Time blurred together. With each battle, Alex became a little more shattered. It wasn't his body alone that grew weaker.

But long since, his body had stopped keeping up, and the demon king just kept on pushing, finding new ways to make him suffer.

Yet another brutal fight with some kind of creature he had no hope of defeating-this time, some towering beast, its skin as rough as scales, its eyes aglow with malice. At once, Alex knew he had little chance upon seeing it.

He could barely stand, his legs quivering beneath him as his hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword. His hands were slick with sweat; his heart raced in his chest.

The beast let out a loud roar, and instinctively Alex raised his weapon-up he knew it wasn't going to matter. He was too slow, too weak.

It came fast for the first attack, which flung Alex to the ground with a single swipe of the beast's massive claw. Pain coursed through his body as he hit the ground, his sword falling from his grasp.

He struggled to get up, but his body refused to cooperate with him. His arms were too heavy, his legs far too weak. He could not move.

The beast roared again this time, towering above him. Alex sat and looked up to it, his eyes foggy from the ache and the weariness. This is it, he thought. This was the moment he had been dreading.

The voice of the demon king echoed in his ears, taunting, merciless: "You're pathetic, hero. You're not even worth the trouble."

In a flash, something snapped inside Alex. It was enough. He couldn't take anything more. He was through and didn't care any more. He would fight no more.