Samsaara : Devadoot

Survival of the Worst

A FEW DAYS AGO.

He stood in the middle, with five men encircling him. In his right arm he held a heavy, jagged edged rock. Small streams of blood rolled down his heavily tattooed forearms, flowing over the rock like waterfalls as they dripped into the mud below. He was surrounded by five men waiting for a chance to take him out. Throughout the field, laid bodies of those who challenged him before. These five had no choice but to team up against him, desperate times call for desperate measures.

He looked at them eagerly, wondering which one of them will charge at him first. Would it be the twins to his left, who moved like a mirror image? Or the lady on the right who held a sharp stave in her hand? Perhaps it would be one of the two dressed in blood-soaked formal attire. Being adept at mind games, he looked around and waited patiently. He looked at them with a smile that sent chills down their spines.

They were the last of who remained, the strongest of the strong. None of them knew why they were fighting. A voice they heard hours ago said only the last to survive would be left alone. The rest would face eternal damnation. Some who believed, and those fearful of the words began to fight. Soon the fight spread like wildfire and the resurrected fought to death. The slyest, strongest, most ruthless and evil survived.

The twins made the first move, they positioned themselves on either side of him, a strategy that had worked for them every time so far. He would have to decide which one to defend against while the other would hold attack from behind. They leapt at him. With a swift swing of his bloody arm, he flung the big rock on one of the twin. Hitting him square on his face, smashing his face into bloodied bits. He then grabbed the other twin by his arm and tossed him on the twitching body of his brother. Then he picked up the big rock again and slammed it on the other twin's abdomen. The twin gurgled blood through his mouth and then stopped moving. they were finished.

The rest of them instinctively rushed at him together. He threw the rock at one of their shins, with a cracking sound he fell to the floor. One of the remaining two, leapt at him and restrained his arms behind his back. The other rushed at him and began punching him in his face. First his nose broke, then he broke a tooth. A few more punches and his body went limp. The one who was punching, brought the same jagged rock, to kill him with his own weapon. He lifted the rock with both hands, and got ready to smash it on his head.

The tattooed person pretending to have fainted, opened his eyes and spat his blood which had now filled his mouth into eyes of the one who had his stone. The opponent had already swung the rock downward and the momentum carried it down, the tattooed person bent forward hard. He made the person restraining him to fold over and come into the path of the rock. The rock smashed into his spine and the both fell down. Our survivor rushed at the last person who was still blinded, but held onto the rock firmly.

He punched the blinded one on his neck hard and that made him drop the rock. Then he swung the stone on the back of his neck hard and snapped it into two. He fell down motionless. The last one with the broken shin was still crawling in the mud. The tattooed person walked to him with the stone in his hand.