311: A Caring Crowd
“Hehehe, it looks like that’s all she wrote for Number Forty!” the announcer giggled as she watched Lilith get cut again and again by Ruby.
With Lilith no longer able to fight back, Ruby toyed with her. She pushed Lilith back while making quick, slices in a wide arc across Lilith’s body. Sometimes the curved dagger barely nicked Lilith’s flesh, and it seemed to only excite Ruby more as she practically danced forward as if performing rhythmic gymnastics, where the colorful ribbons were replaced by thin streams of blood flying through the air.
“She deserved a fair fight!” Uma protested to John, who did his best statue impression. “Since when is anyone supposed to have several matches in a row?”
“Are you stupid?” Number seven asked. “Did you forget that we’re all here to kill each other? If that white mask doesn’t kill her, you’d have to! She knew what she was getting into. And if she didn’t, that’s her fault. Nobody’s special, and she gets what she deserves if she thought otherwise!”
“There’s still supposed to be some semblance of rules and structure!” Uma did not relent. “However brutal, these games always had rules to determine the strongest! Since this round started that hairball kept making things up as she went along! Number Forty might have been one of the strongest and she got punished for it by the organizers!”
Uma walked even closer to John and said, “Look me in the eyes and say that whatever is going on with that announcer and the white mask girl is in the spirit of the games!”
“Intervening in an ongoing match is absolutely forbidden,” John coldly reminded the redhead in her white and blue uniform.
“Tch!” Uma turned from the skeletal black mask staff member and looked at the one-sided match.
“BOOO!” a great portion of the crowds expressed their displeasure with how the fight developed, despite receiving the bloody spectacle they usually so desired. That is the portion that was still sober enough to follow the match and wasn’t preoccupied with drinking and/or fucking.
“YEAHH! Cut her uph, Humbr Forty!” one guy cheered and emptied his cup.
“Drunken moron, she’s the one that’s getting sliced to pieces!”
“Bah, whatever! I gotta go take a piss, anyway!”
“The spectators indeed seem outraged with Number Forty’s piss-poor performance!” the announcer commentated, barely holding back her joy. “And who can blame them? After all the boasting, after all her pompous posturing, this is all that Number Forty’s fiery resolve has amounted to! What a disappointing embarrassment!”
“You didn’t give her a chance to rest!” people from the crowds shouted.
“This could have been such a better match!”
“Would it have been though?” others asked. “She did her 'explody' move and it got countered completely.”
“Yeah, she had no chance, to begin with!”
“That's horseshit! She was obviously tired!”
“She wasn’t even supposed to fight that bloody cunt in the first place!”
“I want my money back!” a furry beastkin screamed, red in the face.
“You didn’t pay any money!” a middle-aged man who stood in front of the beastkin shouted back at him.
“And neither did you!”
“A smart-arse, are you?”
“And it’s pretty too!” the beastkin turned around and lowered his trousers, wagging his furry ass right in the man’s face.
“Get that shit outta my face!” the man pushed the beastkin, which quickly escalated into a brawl of about a dozen drunks.
“Hey, could they like make out or something before this is over?” some guy in another spectator sector asked.
“That ~hic~ robed girl would have to take her mask off, then,” a woman pointed out while keeping herself on her feet by leaning against the rock face behind her.
“Oh, right… Well, what if she just spread her legs for a quick licking? Ya know, kinda like ‘I’ll keep you alive for as long as you keep giving me orgasms’?”
“You haven’t been paying attention, have you?”
“Welp, bottoms up for the grill!” a swaying, naked young man lifted a mug that was the size of his elongated head and then proceeded to empty it by taking gulp after gulp, after gulp.
“Kh!” Felicia snorted gleefully as she leaned against the railings of her platform and watched the increasingly drunken crowds.
That’s all that your heroics amount to, little fool! Felicia mocked the girl who was under Ruby’s playful but relentless assault. A few passive shouts and moans, before moving on to something else. Most of them will forget about you before the sun rises. You’re not meant to be remembered. Just a nameless, numbered piece of meat for entertainment. A piece of meat that should have known her place! Just like that old fucker!