02-12-2018, 08:53 AM
Gilgamesh awoke to an all familiar cell, in an all familiar dungeon, only this time, there was no Jonas. Wait, how did he die? What happened? A pain on his wrist began to sizzle and sear. He cringed as a new line appeared, marking a new death. But how? The king closed his eyes and concentrated on remembering.
Gilgamesh proved to be entertaining. Bloodied and battered, he refused to be obscure on the battlefield, vowing to submit his legacy here and now, in demon canine blood. The loud roar of the crowd grew with every one of hell’s hounds slain, until suddenly, it became the hushed chorus of a whisper. Twisted wonder befell the audience as malevolent treachery became the undoing of an aspiring, but gullible ally, Jonas. In exchange, Gilgamesh gained notoriety and a small following. Enamored by the gilded king’s unabashed betrayal, many fanatics began to cheer his name. Not to mention the fact that everyone also loves an underdog story…
SMASH
Once the words, “…this is a fair fight.” left the king’s mouth, Allanon’s war-hammer took their place, clobbering Gilgamesh, and launching him airborne several yards. Three remaining gladiators reluctantly broke his fall, knocking them all to the dirt. Disoriented, the king’s senses eluded him as he struggled to stand, and once he managed, Allanon had already closed the distance.
Chiming in over loud speaker, the announcer’s voice boomed, “Hot Damn! The action doesn’t get any better than this folks. I tell you this, I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of Allanon’s wraith!”
“You INSOLENT CUR!” Gilgamesh screeched whilst using a nearby gladiator as a shield, shoving him in between him and the brute. Without missing a beat, Allanon repositioned his hammer, swooped the foreign combatant into his two giant hands, and tore the man asunder with brute strength. A cascade of blood, flesh, and organs blotted the king’s vision, while Allanon roared a thunderous war cry. The crowd went into a frenzy, and Gilgamesh stumbled backwards onto his ass.
“Wow!” the broadcaster’s voice beamed in a perverse admiration, “Absolutely amazing folks! You won’t see anything like this anywhere else!”
Relentless, Allanon was upon the gilded king with vicious intent. The confident looks of superiority had all but vanished from Gilgamesh, as the golden warrior was forced on the defensive. Blow after blow, he resisted Allanon and his hammer, but each thunderous exchange left the king with less wear and tear. All the king’s guile and clever sword play was for naught against such a tenacious might. Collisions with Allanon left tremors in his wake and blocking did little to dull the pain. The savage was too fast, too powerful. One false step would be the king’s last and he couldn’t allow things to continue in this fashion. Ravenous and fickle, the crowd grew bloodthirsty as cries of “kill him” and “finish him” became more prominent; the king’s visage, noticeably flushed.
“You hear that Allanon?!” the announcer antagonized over loud speaker, “Give the people what they want!”
Knowing escape was futile, Gilgamesh rolled onto his back and used the brute’s own momentum against him. Inept and void of grace, the brute fought with wild indignation and little tact, nothing like that of King Gilgamesh. He never saw it coming. A blood piercing howl rattled the arena as Gilgamesh brought the hilt of his blade to his chest, and plunged it into the advancing abdomen of Allanon. The crowd went silent with anticipation and not a soul stirred, as blood and glee decorated the king’s face alike; Allanon’s blood.
“Holy F*cking Diablo!” exclaimed the broadcaster’s voice, breaking the silence, “Allanon is down! I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes folks!”
An eruption of mixed feelings consumed the audience as their revered champion fell for the first time, followed quickly and unanimously by their call for his execution. How quickly they turned. The resounding, “Finish him” chant grew popular, exposing what a loveless and wicked place the underverse truly was.
The few gladiators who had managed to keep their lives so far stood in awe of Gilgamesh. No one had ever so much as landed a scratch on Allanon, let alone thwart the bastard. His defeat would be monumental for the lost King of the Dunes.
Face to face with the monster, Gilgamesh sighed in relief and took the opportunity to savor his upset over the giant, though it would be short lived. Allanon’s once motionless frame stirred, then suddenly his hands fashioned themselves around both Gilgamesh and the sword. Startled, the king’s eyes widened and the visage staring back at him revealed a devilish delight. Saliva dripped from fang-like teeth as the beast used his grasp on the sword to pull both it and Gilgamesh in closer, further impaling himself but also advancing his intensions.
“What are you--get off me” resisted the king, but it was too late. “Arrggghhhhhhhhh!!!” his cries and shrieks rang throughout the coliseum. Allanon had sank both thumbs into his opponent’s eyes until they were submerged in blood; two fairly distinct pops sounded shortly thereafter. Satisfied with the gruesome deed, Allanon’s gigantic frame slumped off the king, rolled onto his own back, and retrieved the impaled sword from his abdomen. Blood spewed henceforth from the wound, but not that of a dire amount. On top of everything, the brute seemed to possess great vitality as well.
“That hurt,” Allanon spoke as he stood, tossed the bloodied blade aside, and revered it for the damage it inflicted, “a little.” The Goliath smirked while observing the carnage he’d wrought. His victim had been so exuberant, so defiant, and yet, here he lay, broken and dispatched, like all of the rest of them before him.
“You…” the distraught king mouthed as he struggled to understand his newfound disability. He raised to his knees, revealing his face, and eliciting charged reactions from the crowd. The king’s blonde hair, now drenched in blood, tangled and matted, framed the exposed holes of flesh where his eyes should have been.
“You F*CKING MONGREL!!!” Gilgamesh shrieked, staggering and stumbling with his hands outstretched for guidance. He was blind. The king reeled, swinging wildly at nothing, “I’LL F*CKING KILL YOU!!!”
“You don’t even know where you are.” Allanon scoffed before raising his boot and plating it into the king’s chest. Vertigo came easy for the golden cripple as he landed on his ass once more. Allanon crouched, stalking his prey, “You don’t know who’re your f*cking with and I need little introduction, but let me educate you.”
“ME?!” Gilgamesh began, “It’s you who doesn’t know who they’re fucking with. YOU’RE BENEATH ME MON--” Before the gilded king could finish, Allanon had slammed his fist into Gilgamesh’s own abdomen, causing the king to buckle over in agony, and desperately gasp for air.
“Shut the f*ck up.” the brute demanded, “I am the mighty Allanon. I am your reckoning. All of the nightmares you’ve heard about me are true.” He then grasped a thick cluster of Gilgamesh’s hair, yanked his head back, and cooed, “…and no, you won’t be surviving here today.”
Allanon dropped his mighty Warhammer and unsheathed a sinister looking machete, “Thirty percent, that’s all the power I’ve been using today.” As he spoke, memories of a man being pulled apart, showering Allanon with blood and organs, as well as an impromptu eye surgery he performed on the king, were still fresh in his mind. “The next time you show your face around here, I’ll show you what fifty percent of my power feels like.” He announced as took position behind Gilgamesh and readied his blade, “Not because you’re special, but because I like to destroy pretty things.”
“You’ll show me all of it, mongrel,” Gilgamesh spat blood at the feet of his executioner, “because I am your king.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Gilgamesh proved to be entertaining. Bloodied and battered, he refused to be obscure on the battlefield, vowing to submit his legacy here and now, in demon canine blood. The loud roar of the crowd grew with every one of hell’s hounds slain, until suddenly, it became the hushed chorus of a whisper. Twisted wonder befell the audience as malevolent treachery became the undoing of an aspiring, but gullible ally, Jonas. In exchange, Gilgamesh gained notoriety and a small following. Enamored by the gilded king’s unabashed betrayal, many fanatics began to cheer his name. Not to mention the fact that everyone also loves an underdog story…
SMASH
Once the words, “…this is a fair fight.” left the king’s mouth, Allanon’s war-hammer took their place, clobbering Gilgamesh, and launching him airborne several yards. Three remaining gladiators reluctantly broke his fall, knocking them all to the dirt. Disoriented, the king’s senses eluded him as he struggled to stand, and once he managed, Allanon had already closed the distance.
Chiming in over loud speaker, the announcer’s voice boomed, “Hot Damn! The action doesn’t get any better than this folks. I tell you this, I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of Allanon’s wraith!”
“You INSOLENT CUR!” Gilgamesh screeched whilst using a nearby gladiator as a shield, shoving him in between him and the brute. Without missing a beat, Allanon repositioned his hammer, swooped the foreign combatant into his two giant hands, and tore the man asunder with brute strength. A cascade of blood, flesh, and organs blotted the king’s vision, while Allanon roared a thunderous war cry. The crowd went into a frenzy, and Gilgamesh stumbled backwards onto his ass.
“Wow!” the broadcaster’s voice beamed in a perverse admiration, “Absolutely amazing folks! You won’t see anything like this anywhere else!”
Relentless, Allanon was upon the gilded king with vicious intent. The confident looks of superiority had all but vanished from Gilgamesh, as the golden warrior was forced on the defensive. Blow after blow, he resisted Allanon and his hammer, but each thunderous exchange left the king with less wear and tear. All the king’s guile and clever sword play was for naught against such a tenacious might. Collisions with Allanon left tremors in his wake and blocking did little to dull the pain. The savage was too fast, too powerful. One false step would be the king’s last and he couldn’t allow things to continue in this fashion. Ravenous and fickle, the crowd grew bloodthirsty as cries of “kill him” and “finish him” became more prominent; the king’s visage, noticeably flushed.
“You hear that Allanon?!” the announcer antagonized over loud speaker, “Give the people what they want!”
Knowing escape was futile, Gilgamesh rolled onto his back and used the brute’s own momentum against him. Inept and void of grace, the brute fought with wild indignation and little tact, nothing like that of King Gilgamesh. He never saw it coming. A blood piercing howl rattled the arena as Gilgamesh brought the hilt of his blade to his chest, and plunged it into the advancing abdomen of Allanon. The crowd went silent with anticipation and not a soul stirred, as blood and glee decorated the king’s face alike; Allanon’s blood.
“Holy F*cking Diablo!” exclaimed the broadcaster’s voice, breaking the silence, “Allanon is down! I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes folks!”
An eruption of mixed feelings consumed the audience as their revered champion fell for the first time, followed quickly and unanimously by their call for his execution. How quickly they turned. The resounding, “Finish him” chant grew popular, exposing what a loveless and wicked place the underverse truly was.
The few gladiators who had managed to keep their lives so far stood in awe of Gilgamesh. No one had ever so much as landed a scratch on Allanon, let alone thwart the bastard. His defeat would be monumental for the lost King of the Dunes.
Face to face with the monster, Gilgamesh sighed in relief and took the opportunity to savor his upset over the giant, though it would be short lived. Allanon’s once motionless frame stirred, then suddenly his hands fashioned themselves around both Gilgamesh and the sword. Startled, the king’s eyes widened and the visage staring back at him revealed a devilish delight. Saliva dripped from fang-like teeth as the beast used his grasp on the sword to pull both it and Gilgamesh in closer, further impaling himself but also advancing his intensions.
“What are you--get off me” resisted the king, but it was too late. “Arrggghhhhhhhhh!!!” his cries and shrieks rang throughout the coliseum. Allanon had sank both thumbs into his opponent’s eyes until they were submerged in blood; two fairly distinct pops sounded shortly thereafter. Satisfied with the gruesome deed, Allanon’s gigantic frame slumped off the king, rolled onto his own back, and retrieved the impaled sword from his abdomen. Blood spewed henceforth from the wound, but not that of a dire amount. On top of everything, the brute seemed to possess great vitality as well.
“That hurt,” Allanon spoke as he stood, tossed the bloodied blade aside, and revered it for the damage it inflicted, “a little.” The Goliath smirked while observing the carnage he’d wrought. His victim had been so exuberant, so defiant, and yet, here he lay, broken and dispatched, like all of the rest of them before him.
“You…” the distraught king mouthed as he struggled to understand his newfound disability. He raised to his knees, revealing his face, and eliciting charged reactions from the crowd. The king’s blonde hair, now drenched in blood, tangled and matted, framed the exposed holes of flesh where his eyes should have been.
“You F*CKING MONGREL!!!” Gilgamesh shrieked, staggering and stumbling with his hands outstretched for guidance. He was blind. The king reeled, swinging wildly at nothing, “I’LL F*CKING KILL YOU!!!”
“You don’t even know where you are.” Allanon scoffed before raising his boot and plating it into the king’s chest. Vertigo came easy for the golden cripple as he landed on his ass once more. Allanon crouched, stalking his prey, “You don’t know who’re your f*cking with and I need little introduction, but let me educate you.”
“ME?!” Gilgamesh began, “It’s you who doesn’t know who they’re fucking with. YOU’RE BENEATH ME MON--” Before the gilded king could finish, Allanon had slammed his fist into Gilgamesh’s own abdomen, causing the king to buckle over in agony, and desperately gasp for air.
“Shut the f*ck up.” the brute demanded, “I am the mighty Allanon. I am your reckoning. All of the nightmares you’ve heard about me are true.” He then grasped a thick cluster of Gilgamesh’s hair, yanked his head back, and cooed, “…and no, you won’t be surviving here today.”
Allanon dropped his mighty Warhammer and unsheathed a sinister looking machete, “Thirty percent, that’s all the power I’ve been using today.” As he spoke, memories of a man being pulled apart, showering Allanon with blood and organs, as well as an impromptu eye surgery he performed on the king, were still fresh in his mind. “The next time you show your face around here, I’ll show you what fifty percent of my power feels like.” He announced as took position behind Gilgamesh and readied his blade, “Not because you’re special, but because I like to destroy pretty things.”
“You’ll show me all of it, mongrel,” Gilgamesh spat blood at the feet of his executioner, “because I am your king.”
Dante's Abyss 2015
GRAND CHAMPION
![[Image: Sasuke_DA_zpsb4vizgxd.png]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/02/07/Sasuke_DA_zpsb4vizgxd.png)
Mark Twain Wrote:"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."