Blood slowly dips from a sharp mirrored tip. You stand tall, taking large breaths as you step back. You clench your right arm, not realizing that a gash of skin opened vertically down reveling bone like a curtain opening on a theater act. A sharp pain shoots up your arm feeling like a million needles repeatedly stabbing you. Then as you fall to the ground, breathless. Your opponent takes the chance and launches toward you at full speed and strength. You suddenly see nothing but black as the other's sword pierces through your rib cage then your heart. You feel the crunch and crack of your own spine and ribs breaking from the foot of your opponent. Those million needles turned to a billion, then suddenly nothing at all. You feel light, airy. You wake up and find yourself looking back upon the bloody scene. Your blood becomes a river beneath you, staining the sand. The crowd lifts into a standing ovation of claps and cheers as your opponent stands on your body once more and crushes your skull with his feet, but you feel nothing. He holds your skull to the crowd, receiving more cheers. You only hear a defining ring. You lost this long battle, but you gave your best fight. You feel a slight tingling pressure on your shoulder; you turn around to see a beam of light falling toward you. A soft hand reaches through the light and you grab it, feeling warm and fuzzy. It's your time to go.
