Day-2 Death

The blades cut through his limbs endless amounts of times, each time the pain filled him, from his wrists, legs, arms pain flooded through his body, each time struggling to keep his head focused, the blurred rims of his eyes, his entire body felt like it was shouting, screaming at him to shut down and break. But he kept calm, his weapons shattering and breaking each time he got near, but sporadically, one spear, one hammer smashed into the armour, forcing blood from the metal face.

Even with one arm, the pain slashing through him was immense. The total destruction of every part of him, his face sliced, his body lacerated, his weapons broken, his clothes shredded. Each step met with the loss of a leg, each punch, strike, hit met with the loss of an arm. The terrifying pain and strength pushed him.

He felt lost. Lost in an endless cycle of pain… pain from death, from seeing his sword, his treasure in another hand, the pain of knowing he failed, the pain of fear, knowing that whatever he did was futile… until his thoughts vanished. His fists lashing out and falling to the floor, blood pouring down his throat pushing more and more flesh from him dying hundreds of times in an infinite charge, each movement of the immortal terrifying him and making him recoil.

Eventually, for the first time in his life, Mahon stopped charging, he just stood. Alone in the dark of his own terror, dropping to his knees in the pile of corpses, surrounded by nothingness. He lay down, accepting…

The darkness swallowed his body, the void encasing his mind and filling, surrounding him.

"This… is death."