Destroyers Little Pet | 18+

╬ nine

"I will show you how I received my identifier." He stands suddenly, staring down at me with expectation in his eyes.

It didn't sound like a threat but it was similarly menacing. Show me how?

Standing, I follow him out the door. I know I should look at the ground but I can't help myself. Everyone moves quickly out of his way as he walks. His head is high as he glides down the center of the ramp. He doesn't slow down or move, everyone else parts around him.

They don't even seem to notice me.

We walk the entire length of the dome, to the bottom. The more I see it, the more I'm convinced they couldn't have built it. His large, rough hands could not have made this place. They must have taken it from a group they destroyed. The delicate crystal looks like it would crack if he touched it.

The prisms reflected on the ground remind me of earth, of childhood and innocents, of chasing rainbows. It makes me long for home in a way I haven't in such a long time. The unexpected beauty of this place is actually painful.

I'm so lost in my own mind, trapped under the rubble of my broken world that I hardly realize that we've left the crystal dome. We're under the ground and going deeper.

Down, down, down.

Things look more clinical down here. Bright white metal that looks sterile and cold. He stops at a door, placing his hand against it. There is a beep, then an orange light, and the door slides open.

"Touch nothing." He looks over his shoulder.

Clasping my hands together, I follow him inside.

On one wall, there are rows of seats but otherwise the room is empty. He points, sending me to the seats while he presses buttons on another screen.

Having no basis to even formulate a thought on what's about to happen, I just sit, watching his every move. The far wall begins to drop down, lower into the ground to reveal a very different scene behind it.

The empty room opens up to chaos. As far as the eye can see, a muddy wasteland stretches out in front of us. Monturians are running around, fighting each other, fighting terrifying creatures and attacking several of these warriors.

Did they capture them and bring them here to kill them?

When he pulls his sword from its sheath, the crisp pinging sound catches my attention. He walks out of the room into the mud and suddenly, everything else looks smaller. He is large, sure, but it's more than that. His presence demands attention and respect.

His body sinks down into the mud, almost up to his knees but he walks through it with ease.

Several Monturians have joined forces, standing in a circle to fight anyone that approaches while keeping their backs protected. He goes right for them. A group of five against one.

I'm surprised that they are armed. This is more than a fair fight.

His movements are so graceful it's easy to forget that he's killing people. The swing of his arm, his sword whistling through the air, it's poetic. Where the Monturians are loud and aggressive, screaming and grunting, he is completely silent. I can't peel my gaze away from him. It's beautiful, in a terrible way.

He doesn't just kill them. He completely obliterates them. One hit with his sword and their bodies are irreparably broken. He cuts right through the middle, separating the top half from the bottom like cutting through warm butter.

The group of five falls easily, they weren't even a challenge. They're lying in pieces, large gray chunks all over the field.

When one of the creatures runs toward him, I shrink back into my seat. I've never seen anything like it. It's something out of a nightmare.