Demon Slayer

"Get out of there," Someone screamed to his left. It was the old man he stood with earlier.

"That's the lad who lost his memory, isn't he?" Agashi heard another person ask.

He felt energy bubbling within him and jumped away from the trajectory of the demon's blade with lightning speed, picking up a sword from the ground and running towards it.

"You can't take him, get out of there and let someone else handle that," the old man had a bit of annoyance in his voice.

"He's going to get himself killed."

Agashi heard the murmurs spread among the men watching him.

The demon's blow, now landed on the ground, did little to discourage it. It seemed particularly motivated to kill Agashi and pulled the axe from the ground with unreal agility.

"Kill the damned thing," Another voice rang out from the crowd as the murmurs grew louder.

"Ur'ul Thuk."

The demon's face betrayed his anger at his missed blow, his axe raised for the second time as he aimed for the annoying human again.

"Mathos, that demon was yours to kill," the commanding hunter yelled.

"Try telling him that," Mathos retorted, gesturing toward Agashi.

Gasps rang through the crowd. The men held their breath as they watched the demon charge.

It happened very quickly, a second blow of the demon's axe, a deft sidestep and a subsequent plunge of Agashi's blade into the demon's side. He didn't leave it there; he dragged the  blade across the demon's belly, panting as the demon fell.

"The son of a bitch did it. He killed it," the old man yelled, pointing at Agashi as he jumped in excitement.

The corpse disintegrated as soon as the demon was dead. Agashi watched as energy flowed out of the demon's body and into his own, the bangle on his hand beeping rapidly while the transfer happened. 

"You look surprised. You haven't killed one before? You best use those credits wisely," the commanding hunter adviced, patting him on the back as he walked by.

"You're not saying anything about his skin, Daken," one of the men pointed out, peering intently at Agashi.

"That's none of your business. We have a second wave of demons to deal with. We'll talk about it if you survive," the commanding hunter responded.

"Name's Mathos. You fight a lot better than you look," one of the men chuckled, offering Agashi his hand.

"I don't know how I was able to do any of that," Agashi said, shaking the hand.

"You don't have to be modest. I know you have to protect yourself from credit thieves, but lying to me doesn't help you," Mathos smiled.

Agashi saw the look on the man's face change from a smile to that of pure horror.

"What in the hell?"

A chilling wind swept through the stone arena. Its skin was as dark as the night, Agashi could tell from the silence that the men didn't expect what they saw. Horns, twisted and sharp, crowned its head, flaming eyes that burned with blue flames.

"It's a sub-level demon. What is it doing here?" Mathos gasped, taking a step back.

"Where are you going?" Agashi demanded.

"Are you crazy? That's no low level demon, you need to take cover now," Mathos yelled.

With movements that blurred it's form, the demon surged forward. Swords and spears struck against its body, only to shatter or be swatted aside like mere playthings.

Screams tore through the arena as it cut through the men who dared stand in it's path. Each life it took, each fighter that fell before it, seemed only to fuel its power.

"We need to get out of here," Mathos insisted, as they both watched the dreaming man get torn in two by the rampaging demon. The demon was headed right for them and Agashi knew it.

"I'm not going anywhere," Agashi insisted, it was fight or die. The demon lunged forward, claws aimed to tear.

Agashi ducked beneath the first swipe, rolling clear of the demon's reach. He rose swiftly to his feet, his blade flashing in a counter-stroke. But the blade missed its mark; the demon was quick, its form blurring into smoke, reanimating to strike again from another angle. Agashi pivoted, barely avoiding a crushing blow from the demon's horns that shattered the stone where he stood moments before.

"Help him, you cowards," Daken screamed at the men, but none of them seemed interested in this fight. These credits were not for them to earn.

The crowd of hunters watched breathlessly, their cheers a distant murmur against the noise of the fight. Agashi understood they weren't going to help him. He could not falter, not here, not now. Once again, he saw it, the bright message popping into his view.

Name: Agashi; energy level: 100; battle mode: activated; new mission alert: Kill the sub-level demon; reward: healing mode unlocked.

As the demon attacked again, Agashi parried with his blade which had now begun to glow much to his surprise, sparks flying from the contact. He slashed upwards, and for the first time, the blade bit into the demon's flesh. A howl of pain echoed through the blood lake.

The demon recoiled, dark liquid spilling from its wound, smoking as it touched the ground. Agashi pressed his advantage, stepping forward without hesitation. He struck again. 

"Who is that kid?" Daken asked. None of them could believe their eyes.

Agashi's blade found the demon's chest, cutting deep into it's black heart. The demon’s scream drew murmurs from the rest of the hunters as it flailed wildly.

Weakened, the demon's form began to flicker, it's essence began to escape and find it's way to Agashi. 

Agashi raised his blade, lifting it as high as he could. With a loud cry, he brought it down, targeting the demon's head.

"Ur'ul Thuk" Mathos murmured, his eyes wide with shock.

"Shut your mouth. A couple of red markings proves nothing," Daken hissed.

Agashi's sword struck true, and with a loud thump, the demon's head fell to the ground, it's body dissolving into nothingness. A wave of silence swept through the arena, sweeping over the rest of the hunters, over Agashi, who stood panting, his blade now dim, its task completed. The bangle on his wrist went wild with beeping, vibrating as it absorbed all the credits he had earned.

"Get out of the way," Agashi heard screams as some men made their way into the arena. He remembered them, they were the ones with the whips. 

He wanted to explain himself but his throat was unusually dry, and as he lost consciousness and fell to the ground, the only thought in his head was how bad he wanted to wake from this nightmare. He thought about Rose, her letter on his desk was what pushed him to drinking that night in the first place, “I can't do this anymore” she wrote. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.