Dark elf

Alfar was breathing heavily, his shoulders going up and down at a high pace. 

Ragnar was in front of him, and he was not as good as him. He had not a single bruise or even the slightest cut on his body, but he surely was exhausted. 

Alfar did not know why but he kept putting his hands on his head from time to time as if he was with an unbearable headache. However, that was all. 

On the other hand, Alfar had quite a few bruises through his body. His opponent could land on him some good blows. The worst thing was that he didn't know how to fight properly, which lead to a huge disadvantage in the end. 

"Nonetheless, that's what's more strange about him… He doesn't know how to fight, just like me, but he can pull through incredibly well…" Alfar used that brief time of recovery from both parts to take a look at Casper. 

The soldier was having a hard time against that giant man who had entered in battle with him. It was no wonder, Casper was just a normal human, after all. He could not match with an experiment made to kill. They were tested to be weapons. 

"I am not too different from them. I could handle that guy, maybe struggling a bit. But Casper has no idea as to what I am, so he couldn't think in anything better, probably." 

Alfar avoided looking at the other parts of the canteen because he was preventing himself to see blood. If he saw it, even the slight splash, it would make him get that nausea and maybe go wild again. 

"You aren't as good as people around you usually say. I wonder if you really are that monster of the rumors." Ragnar mocked, sighing slightly as if he was disappointed. He was starting to round Alfar, who kept following his course. 

The pitch-black-haired prisoner was aware of his natural talent to intimidate, and he always used it in his favor.

"Do you want to discover, Ragnar?" He spoke straightening his back and looking with his usual eyes at him. "Then, come more closer." Spoke, prompting. 

The man, instead of shaken inside, seemed to be kind of bored. Without any hesitation, he walked in Alfar's direction, narrowing his eyes and cracking his knuckles and neck.

"So, one more round. Don't worry, I will be very brief with you."

That frivolous and selfish bastard was the type of person that he hated the most. Ragnar didn't show often outside, but inside he was an addicted person in a fight. For Alfar, he was the lower slag of that prison. 

"And there are people who still follow this air-headed, idiot." He shook his head. 

At the exact moment when he did, Ragnar stepped in, coming closer to him. It was a reckless manner to approach an enemy, and even the amateur Alfar knew it, however…

Alfar tried to retaliate. It was not supposed to be hard. After all, he was punching someone that had his guard lowered, and his body too leaned forward. 

But the result was the same as always: he missed. 

The tattooed man avoided his punch with such precision and swiftness that he seemed to be a professional fighter. 

The timing of the counterattack and aim was good enough to make Alfar be not even expecting that it was coming, which lead to that punch without any technique behind landing on his face. 

The man stepped backward, feeling his nose bleeding behind the mask. 

"Damn it!" He advanced again, trying restlessly to strike that stubborn man. His swings were wild and inaccurate but had a strength that was abnormal for a man with his skinny body build. 

He was sure that, if he had hit Ragnar once, he would rip his head off with just one blow, such was his strength, even though he was not in that mode yet…

Alfar was trying to find a way to overcome the insane reflexes of his opponent. But he could not conclude anything without first knowing what was making him have this kind of quirk.

Ragnar stopped to go on the defensive and attacked him once again, this time Alfar reacted faster and could retaliate. He didn't think in anything, his body just reacted, and he threw a powerful punch against the tattooed man, dislocating his shoulder and sending him backward.

"That's not… C-could it be that this guy…?" In the exact moment when Alfar realized the danger he was stuck in, he kicked the ground, his body almost flew forward. His senses were warning him about that guy. 

"Damn it, it seems that I can't joke with you anymore," Ragnar muttered, dodging easily the upcoming blow of Alfar.

Just when he was about to follow with another strike, someone rushed towards both of them and slammed his shoulder against Alfar, making him fall sliding on the floor. 

He stood up quickly, getting ready for what was coming now.

One after another, the men inside the canteen, mostly Ragnar's comrades, came running after him. They began to attack him from all sides. 

Ragnar himself just turned a fallen bench to its right position and sit there, looking bothered to that scene.

Alfar got troubled. He did not want to hit back, if he did so, he would go crazy again. 

These men launched punches and kicks, beating him so badly that he was striving just to keep on his feet. 

Alfar tried to retaliate as he could, but at the sight of blood, he would feel his heartbeat raise and his hands tremble. His hearing was sharpening each second; he heard the bones cracking; the knuckles colliding against the flesh; different objects being swung in the air and smacking his limbs. 

Everything seemed… tentative. 

The best way he could, he retaliated against those men. He needed to use all of his determination to do so. Whenever he knocked one down with his cannon-like blows, he would need some seconds to recover. 

After torturing minutes, he was surrounded by fallen prisoners. Maybe eight of them. His body was all bruised, it was a miserable sight. 

"I am starting to understand now." Spoke Ragnar, getting up off the bench. "Now everything is so clear… You are that guy, huh? The one that everyone talks about, but nobody actually knows who is. In the end, you are the two legends rounding this prison!" 

For the first time since Alfar had met Ragnar, he seemed to be interested in something. He was excitedly walking back and forth. He did not even care about the intense battle happening behind him, or his men whose Alfar just beat.

The pitch-black-haired man wanted to say something, but couldn't. He was totally out of breathing, and his body was shivering. His face was turned down, and it was kind of a creepy scene. 

Ragnar had already noticed it: Alfar was not struggling because he was weak by the beaten. He was trying to control himself, and this just raised even more his expectations as to what that man actually was. 

"You probably know by now about my telepathy, which is a pity, since I struggled to make no one in the prison spit this information… But you did it even better than me, damn! For the first time since I get here, I am animated now. 

"But, look, Alfar… You are way more dangerous than me, do you know that? That's why I can't hold back anymore." After he said it, something like a scream echoed in the ears of everyone in that canteen. 

In a matter of seconds, after the strange scream, Alfar spotted a gigantic wave of prisoners going against him.

"I wish I could come to know you better, but I can't stop here and let you start a fuss." 

From the entrance, reinforcements arrived as well, and they were the ones now battling against Alfar's comrades. 

The canteen had turned into a mess even bigger than before. 

Alfar looked blankly to that mass of men coming after him. None of them seemed to have the will to do what they were doing. 

He, then, felt in his skin everything he had to pass until that point. All his body started tingling.

That was sort of a nostalgic experience. Every time was like that. Always when he tried to avoid violence, the violence would chase him until he gave up, fight back… and turned into a monster. 

"Monster…" He remembered that, in those past days, someone called him like that. He had just a vague memory. And, anyway, this person probably was dead. 

Black veins on Alfar's body started to pop up, blood rushing at full throttle inside them. His heart seemed like explosions inside his chest. His pale skin went grizzly.

The last thing he remembered to see was the furious crowd of human puppets clashing against him, and then his vision darkening as if a shadow was covering his eyes. 

The Principal of the laboratory had seen everything and smiled behind the White mask.

"Now, things will be more interesting… Don't you think, Dark elf?"