38. You want a battle? I'll give you war

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No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

My heart was racing as I sprinted towards the direction of the sound, my mind spinning over the endless possibilities while beating myself up simultaneously for not going after him immediately. He had survived without me before I arrived, I thought he would be fine. 

Why did I think he would be fine?

I ran through multiple alleys, jumping over fallen objects, not bothering to hide myself from potential other fighters nearby. I didn't care. I had to know what happened. I had to know if I fucked up. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something had happened to him, I'd only known him for a day, but I loved dogs and animals in general and I couldn't stand to see them hurt.

My breath hitched when my eyes fell on the scene. H3 was snickering, standing over Sauron's lifeless body in front of him. It had been pierced with seven arrows and I noticed a smirking V2 standing near the edge of a higher floor from the skyscraper with H2's bow in his hands. The whole thing was under construction, so the outer walls hadn't been built yet, giving him the opportunity to shoot everything that came into sight with ease.

With a grin on his face, H3 nudged Sauron's body with his foot, but he didn't move, so H3 backed up, held up his thumb to V2 and started to walk to the skyscraper, leaving Sauron behind. Tears dwelled up in my eyes as my senses confirmed it.

He was dead.

Sauron was dead.

And they had killed him for sport.

My vision turned red and my inner warrior took over, ignoring all the cameras. Before I knew it I tackled H3 and we rolled over. I ended up on top, keeping him locked between my legs, and my fists made contact with his face, each hit harder and more brutal than the other.

I let out an enraged scream as I punched his face over and over again. Bones broke under my touch as I bashed in his skull, blood and brain matter sputtered everywhere. The ground, my face, his body, it didn't matter, the red substance covered everything.

Not registering he had stopped breathing already, my hand plunged into his chest, tearing through his skin, his muscles, his veins and breaking his ribcage. My hand wrapped around his heart and I ripped it out effortlessly.

Slowly, I got up, breathing heavily, moving my death glare from him to the heart in my bloody hand. My eyes fixed on my hands. Blood dripped from them over my arms onto the ground beneath me and I couldn't stop looking at it.

My mind began to trail while my eyes widened and it hit me when I realized I had done it, I had killed for the first time. I was a killer, a murderer. 

My gaze moved to his body. His head was unrecognizable, it didn't even look like a head anymore, it was just a heap of meat and bone. I tilted my head, the sight of it didn't want to make my stomach turn nor did it make me feel as bad as it should have.

It dawned on me. One of my worst fears had come true, not because I had just done it, but because a part of me found it oddly satisfying, exciting even. I knew it was wrong, human number three had family and friends out there who probably cared for him a lot, but there was a certain contentment to it, because he had deserved it.

Noticing the remaining fighters had gathered around, lurking in the shadows as one of the cameras had broadcasted the whole thing on the screen for everyone to see, I gave his heart one last glance and dropped it on the ground.

Squashing it under my foot, I turned to crouch down next to Sauron's body. I removed the arrows and stroked his soft fur, with tears dwelling up in my eyes again as I allowed myself a brief moment of sadness.

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