CHAPTER 9

Too late.

Again. She was too late.

The last participant, old man Sabak, was dead. Giselle found him lying near a garbage can at the end of a street. Why was Mordoll being so fast? Did he believe that most of the participants this time were weak mortals with no hope for survival? No. It was because he was so desperate to escape the nightmare as well. Sabak had four holes in the chest, and had probably bled to death, since there was a nauseating puddle of blood underneath him. The wounds, made by sharp claws, were still open. But why was he found in a place like that? Perhaps he was laying there because it felt like home; Sabak was a homeless man.

Giselle regretted her tardiness and left the scene. Nothing more to say. With the exception of Grace, all of this game’s participants were dead. If she could at least save her... but Grace, however, seemed like she didn’t have any intention of being saved nor did she have the need for a savior like Giselle, whom she apparently disliked a lot. Grace wanted to kill Mordoll, and then, perhaps, to kill her too.

There was no hope for salvation anymore then. Giselle needed to continue on with the ritual. Time was running out. But before she could even make a decision, the ghosts emerged behind her, blocking the exit in the dead end street. She felt that tumultuous pain in her stomach, in her heart. The possession. She fell down to her knees, with no way to defend herself with the sword. The ghosts were smiling, circling her and doing nothing, just like the last time; just like previous times, just like always. Her eyes turned red now. A vivid crimson light emanated from them, as her ghastly appearance returned temporarily. Stunned, she puked blood once more. It seemed the evil within her was returning faster than she thought. However, she tried to fight it; Giselle resisted as much as she could, trying to get ahold of her katana. It was only a few steps away, but that would require for her to crawl towards it, and grab it with all her strength, which was being drained by the mysterious energy residing within her. She stretched her right hand to where the sword was, while the left was being used to suppress her chest, the nearest location to the force’s core. Her gaze, her eyes, she seemed demonic, like a wrathful lion. The ghosts were still around her, smiling, giggling, and they were approaching even more. Soon, they would suffocate her and she would have to release that power. But no; she had to do something. She couldn’t end up like Mordoll.

The shattered sky showed the moonlight and a glimpse of it gave Giselle a little more strength, perhaps inner motivation, to suppress the devilish energy and survive again. She grabbed the sword and, upon barely touching it, regained control of her body. Her demonic stance disappeared and her beauty went back to normal. Giselle stood up, and at the same time she cut in half as many ghosts surrounding her with a perfectly circular slash. She danced with the sword, destroying every single creature around her. And it was because of the moonlight that she had returned to her senses; it had only given her something precious that she needed the most at that time: hope.

The luminous eyes, crimson as they were, turned off. Fog, because of the disintegrated ghosts, gathered around her. Giselle simply ignored it and walked forward, sheathing the blade, focusing on finding Mordoll. If he, somehow, managed to kill Grace, all would have been for naught.

She hurried then, trying to control the stress, powerful detonator of the malicious energy inside of her, running towards the little spot far ahead where she seemed to have located the shadow’s presence.

Meanwhile, Grace had been lucky enough to finding him first.

“Interesting.” She said. “I was looking for the mouse and found the cat instead.” While walking on the grass, towards the center of the field, where the moon could enlighten the whole place, Grace was holding her unsheathed sword, and stopped with short distance between her and this "cat" she spoke of. Her smile told everything; she felt flattered and fortunate for being now the predator of the predator.  

“I was looking for you, too, my darling.” Mordoll replied.

He looked down on her as if she meant nothing but delicious prey.

"Food service." He said and took his scorpion-attack pose while his claws were readying for some more delightful bloodshed. "You have my gratitude for finding me first, Miss Cynical; it deliberately pleases my dreadful desires...”

“Save your gratitude for the ones who kidnapped me...” Grace said, while a strange breeze moved gently her yellowish hair. “They took me out of my boring and miserable life.” She laughed. “And brought me here, against my will, and trapped me, only to fight against someone like you. That deliberately pleases my dreadful desires as well.” Ended with a grasp, and soon, after flexing both knees, she instantly jumped forward, against the enemy ahead.

“Astonishing.” Mordoll was marveled. Pure adrenaline started running through his veins (if he actually had) as he prepared to receive his beloved similar. He smiled, too, for this was a wonderful excuse to celebrate his vicious cycle of caprices. So he made similar movements as the lady, just to imitate her and feel as human as possible to mock the stupidity of their lives.

After a sullen laugh, he jumped towards the blonde sociopath, having set his claws on this desperate motion of madness. Pure massacre.

Grace sent a horizontal slash toward the shadow’s stomach, clearly having a different intention in mind. Mordoll discovered this and jumped backwards, dodging, as usual, her first attack. However, Grace had planned something else, and when her enemy evaded, she quickly sent two other cuts that he had to block with his claws, apparently made of something very solid.

Surprises, how ironic would this melodramatic sequence be if not full of surprises?

“I have my fears...” He said. “Boredom is my worst nightmare.” he continued. “But you, my dear…” And crossed his reddish claws near his bottom parts. “You amuse me." This action blocked the girl's slash towards his darkened waist before the shadow leaned forward and jumped above her, turning around in the air to fall behind her and attempt to joyfully scratch her back, while smiling at his best for he was having so much fun. Said counter attack was going to be a diagonal scratch caused by his right bleeding claw, some black and sharpened steel capable of blocking its similar materials. His instrument of death.  

She saw the blocking of her first attack by those filthy claws; she even felt the uncommon steel of what they were made of, a brilliant surprise she did not expect when she rushed in. And it only made her enjoy the moment even more, smiling once again when the shadow jumped to land behind her and attempt to counter attack, alas, the counter was beheld by Grace who turned half around to her right, creating a shockwave of energy like a shield of light power which the shadow uselessly attacked and violently bounced off due to the pressure of the woman's force. She then turned around, completely towards him, staring as smiley as ever as if she was mocking the poor ungentle creature of the netherworld. Holding her katana with her right hand pointing down, Grace took one step forward and flexed both knees again, slowly lifting the weapon now held by both hands to her right with the sharp top pointing up. 
“What are you waiting for, poor little shadow...?” She questioned, standing in that pose for the remaining seconds it would take her enemy to rise again and continue on with the fight.

Behold! The fun. As he felt bouncing off the power shield of his not so vulnerable enemy, the shadow's laughter went insanely cynical, even standing up and taking his time to do so whilst the girl awaited a response. Nonetheless, he said nothing and only put up a vicious smile, the usual feature of his never ending charade. So he arose and stared back, his eyes looking as enlightened as ever, ready to rumble one more time. 
As he was taking the fighting pose again, he divided into a dozen boasters more of him, surrounding the girl in a dead end circle, all looking exactly the same. And before laughing cynically, the clones ran towards the lady at the center of the spectacle, feeling their bloody claws anxious for slaughter. 
He liked her; he wanted to toy with her and please his unhuman motives to tease his similar, another cynical being such as himself. A sense of sickening love. It was going to be too entertaining this time, for the real fun had just begun. 

Grace saw the whole thing unimpressed, still wanting the shadow to improve his fancy juggling into something more entertaining. However, this was enough to keep her busy for a while, twisting her own dark desires into this unexplainable light that came out of her inner strength, turning into energy. This energy helped her move quicker than before, jumping high when the clones rushed against her. They all leaped as well, surrounding her, right in the middle of the air where Grace began slashing them one by one with different moves, seeing how they were just turning into the same dark fog she saw before where the shattered sky caused the first commotion. 
Grace was happily living trapped in this city; she really couldn't care less about the game or the other participants, not knowing they were all dead and she was the only one left. Her only wish was to go on and on with this joyful nightmare. 
By the time she finished the last shadow, even after slashing and cutting them all in half before the black fog became clearly visible, her energy was higher than usual. She felt the power running through her veins, and getting ahold of her long blade, helping her to make all these acrobatic moves in the air, killing every single clone attacking her from every single side, she was truly happy.

As the shadows dissolved into darkness, creating a considerably big cloud of black fog, not too high from the field, Mordoll noticed the sky as unusual as ever, before jumping straight at Grace falling down due to the laws of gravity. She could have realized about this treacherous trap but instead became obsessed with her own power, giving the main shadow enough time to rush at her, kicking her stomach so hard she went crashing down to the small grass. He fell as well, but before he could rush once again towards the headphones lady, he stopped and looked at the sky without dismissing his attacking pose. Something was wrong; the air felt natural as if the rage of battle had ended, even feeling the gentle but cold drops of water coming from those greyish clouds up there. Then it became more frequent and rain made its presence on the whole city. The smiling shadow knew that the mission was close to an end and the screen would appear sooner than he had expected.

“Ah, I see...” Ironically, it only made him smile more. Then he looked at where his enemy had landed previously. “Seems like our little game will have to wait, honey...”

“Why?”

“You are the last survivor, didn’t you know?”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“You don’t know what could happen if you die, no? Are you really so eager to finish what we started right now? You are truly a very lusty goddess.”

“Shut up and fight me, asshole!” She sat up, angry, her smile had vanished. Nothing else mattered anymore right now.

“Such a mouth…” He admired.

“Come on!”

“I refuse.”

“Why?! Why?!” She cut the air diagonally, challenging him.

“You cannot kill me.”

And those words, that simple statement, sounding as truth as it was, deprived Grace from all her enthusiasm. She looked paralyzed; eyes wide open, mouth open, shocked. She couldn’t kill him? No matter how hard she tried? Had he been playing with her all along? Nonsense! Damn you, Mordoll! Grace had been doing so well all this time, fighting at her best, and to what? To no avail? She felt crushed. Depleted. Defeated. Even though she could laugh at that statement and take it as a challenge, or as a joke, Mordoll made her feel as if he was spitting out the absolute truth. Somehow, she felt he was right. But Mordoll hadn’t stopped for that motive; he had seen the only real obstacle between him and his prey. Giselle was the only reason he wasn’t butchering her right now.

Atop a nearby building, the master of swords, the beautiful warrior, was observing the field like a hawk. She could probably be the only one to defeat Mordoll and he knew that. But he had to do something before facing his real nemesis. He pointed at her; Grace looked that way and saw Giselle. Then Mordoll vanished into thin air. Escaped.

“Oh my fucking god...!” She yelled, ironically smiling and laying her head back to the resting place where she had crashed before, arms and legs outstretched to their sides, she started laughing.

“Goddamn you, Giselle! Why did you have to ruin everything again?”

The unbroken but malfunctioning headphones were still on her possession, resting around her neck between her golden hairs. And the rain, already spreading through the whole city, isolated all possibilities of success. Grace felt the failure once again. Powerless, she looked at the sky between several blinks due to the gracious rain, thinking about the probability of going back home as if she actually desired it from the very bottom of her heart. But she only stayed calm, freezing on the field and receiving this gentle rainy blanket on her body and clothes... maybe wishing to die right there... and never go back home.  

Giselle approached. 

“Are you all right?”

Grace laughed cynically.

“You saved me…” She mumbled first and Giselle was unable to hear her.

“Come again?”

“You saved me, didn’t you know? You fucking saved me!” Now her laughter became a hysterical choir. “He said that I cannot kill him! Can you believe that? I CAN’T KILL HIM!”

Then she laughed some more.

Giselle had nothing to say to that, because it was true. Mordoll had probably left for the very same reason she had in mind. And if that was the case, she needed to hurry again. No time to deal with Grace, I’m sorry; time was running out more and more. Faster. If Mordoll reached his objective, his new objective, after realizing something very important that he didn’t at the beginning, something that he should have realized, as a matter of fact, that could be fatal for Giselle. Because, if all the other participants were dead, then Grace had officially won the game.