The Drabbles of I

Armageddon: A short story Drabble that makes little sense. (Little bit of Violence)

She was panting, arm clutched in her hand. Scratches littered her body, some deeper than others. I was amazed. Why didn’t she give up? She must’ve known she wouldn’t have won. Yet she still fought. I saw unmistakable determination glittering in her eyes. It was sickening. Why doesn’t she just give up already!? It is clear she has lost! Her eyes held once hidden sorrow, and hope. Why can’t she just give into despair? There is no reason for hope. No logical explanation told me why she was still here. Standing up to me. I am quite honored though. Being a higher class than she allowed me to practice daily. Herself, slowly and without any practice, was easy to wound.
        “Why won’t you give up?” The question came out of my mouth before I could process. Was I thinking aloud? She gave me a weak grin.
        “Because… I have a family… they need me... “ She panted in between breaths. I wish I could understand what she meant. My mother and father never were with me. They only cared that I succeeded. I fight to win their attention. She… fights for her family. I wonder what it is like, being able to have a mother and father who are with you. Her gaze drifted to her left, and I followed. There was a small family in the stands, being ignored and spat upon by the others. It was a rare thing indeed, seeing someone from a lower class in the stands. The others, all of the highest class, seemed disgusted just by the sight of them. I now understood. She was fighting for her freedom. My strength left me as I observed more. My eyes have truly opened. What did I fight for? The recognition of my family? They have never came to support me. Jealousy had taken control of me. It wasn’t fair! How could someone with nothing be happy? I charged at her, weapon at hand, and slashed. A gasp was heard throughout the crowd. It was hushed, save for the family who stood shocked. The girl covered her head, waiting for me to finally finish the battle. I had a reputation to uphold. I had always destroyed those who challenged me. But… there was a feeling gnawing at my heart. Guilt spread through my veins, a curse sent unto me. Everything was heavy. I finally saw what I had caused. I’ve killed numerous people in the ring. Just for fame. Fortune. The hope that I would be noticed. I felt disgusted with myself.
I slammed the sword down out of habit. Right next to her body. She squeaked in shock and looked up at me. I stood up and faced the crowd.
        “There shall be no more.” I stated, voice strong and impassioned. “We have killed many on this field. Not for any honor. But for fame. You all must open your eyes. We cause others suffering, just for the enjoyment. This must stop.” Many in the crowd were angered. Some started booing me. But I could care less.
        “You brat! Get back there and kill her, or I will!” Someone was climbing down the stands, a pouch in his hand. He held his pouch close then opened it. Out came his sword, electrified. The crowd started cheering, excitement once again in the stands. Rage had turned me red. A roar was heard, one that sounded as a lion.
        “NO ONE SHALL TOUCH HER. NOT WHEN I LIVE.” I roared, as my energy released itself. The shockwave sent him backwards. He scrambled to get up then charged at me. I summoned a dagger from my pouch and threw it at him. It lodged in his left leg. He screamed profanities at me, enraged. Some of the other men in the stands started coming down as well. I gripped two sickles in hand, charging them with my energy. I knew deep down that there could only be one victor. For the sake of the girl, and her family, I shall fight.
No… I shall win.
With the speed of a viper, I striked. The sound of blood falling and the yells of enraged men convinced me to continue. In a deadly dance I swung, leaping left and right. Many had already fallen to my blades. Crimson coated my skin and armor, creating a lust for more. I felt the fire bubble forth and fired. My hand turned into a cannon, and flames shot forth. With an axe in hand, a cannon the other, the battle continued on. Everything was blurred. It was a hypnotic routine. What I have learned from my teachers were being pulled up from my database. I hate humans. They all are greedy. I am the master race. With tech built inside me, I am equal to a robot, except I have a soul. I could feel myself beginning to tire. As the last offender fell, the audience was quiet. The only sound was my shallow breathing, and my heart echoed in my ears. This was quite a workout. The sound of a helicopter in the distance, I turned to help up the girl. She looked at me with admiration, and kindness. Warmth enveloped me as she cried into my arms. My eyes stung with tears and my heart throbbed. She kept repeating the same words to me.
        “Thank you… thank you… thank you…”
She looked behind me in horror. I turned quickly, axe ready to be swung. A tall man stepped out of the helicopter, accompanied by a stout woman. With sinking dread, I realized this was my mother and father. He clapped slowly, a grin on his face.
        “That was truly an amazing show, 901.” He said, in a cheerful voice. Anger developed in my heart, disgust on my face. “Although it was… entertaining… You still have a reputation to uphold. Go and finish the job.” His face turned to stone, and my mother’s echoed his expression. Looking down towards the one I fought for, a feeling of protectiveness washed over me. A sinister smile made it’s way to my face. I started to turn towards her, as her eyes widened with horror.
        “I will, father.” With that statement I turned around and swung at my creator. Rage had taken over once again. With primal instinct, I lunged forward and lodged the axe into his head. He sputtered, surprised. Then he fell dead at my feet. My mother was next. It was all a red haze. The lust for her screams danced in my ears as I eradicated her. I still wasn’t finished with my job though. I turned to the stages, where the higher classes were frozen in shock and fear. A grin made it’s way to my face. Slowly walking towards them, I started to run, weapons in hand. After all, I had a reputation to uphold.