Closing my eyes, I focused on my inner world. It took a while, but eventually I felt my source. It was far too small in my opinion, but it will have to do. Drawing prana from my source, only a few drops of power responded. It was more than adequate for what I needed. I infused my eyes with the drops of power in a geometric pattern. When I opened them again, I began seeing blobs of prana across the room. I counted thirteen; there were thirteen others. Sight of life was one of the most basic spells I could cast, but it was all this body could handle without dire consequences. A wave of weakness passed through my body as my sickness reacted to the use of prana. I grew impossibly cold, as my body began to shiver. An itch at the back of my throat signaled the onset of another cough.
Through sheer will, I managed to curb the oncoming cough. At some point, without realizing it I had ended up on the floor. Another blood-curdling scream reverberated off the walls as one of the life signals vanished entirely. It took a few long moments before my body stabilized. Surprisingly, there were no new deaths during that time. They probably had not found the others yet. Memory shards were one of the largest enigmas within the shard system. They took you back to a moment in history with some form of significance. No memory shown was ever the same, nor were the worlds you were taken to. With this information in mind, I racked my brain trying to figure out where I could be. All the while observing the positions of the other contenders.
While watching them in silence, I started noticing some discrepancies. Some of the blobs were large and bright, while others were small and dim. Singling out the weakest of the group, I chose my first target. Watching the movements of the others, I devised a path towards him without running into the others. I crept forward like a specter in the night. My heart was beating like the rhythm of war drums as the thrill of the hunt consumed me. Vision focused to a laser point as I closed in on my prey. Muscles are tightening like a spring ready to burst forward at any moment. Right as I was about to make my move, my instincts screamed at me to duck. Falling hard on the cobblestone ground, pushed the air out of my lungs. The whistle of a blade passed over my head. If I had been even a second later, I'd be dead.
"Tsk, why'd you have to dodge? I hate it when food tries to fight back." A high-pitched voice whined from behind me.
I was already back on my feet, but I could not see a life signal close to me. It was completely dark; the realization that my enemy could hide from my vision made my stomach clench. My only advantage was instantly rendered useless against such an opponent. Instead of allowing this to distract me, I chose to act. Crouching low, I swept my leg in the position where the voice came from. My shin met his, knocking him off balance as he fell down. Before I could capitalize on his distraction, I felt something cold and sharp bite into the skin of my cheek. It was a shallow wound, but I could feel the blood begin dripping down my cheek.
Jumping back slightly to get out of his reach and catch my breath. A wave of irritation washed over me, but I suppressed it to focus on the enemy. "Aww, why do you keep running? I just wanna kill you a little." His voice was starting to grate on my nerves. But still I chose to remain quiet. What is the point in speaking to the dead? Instead, I opted for a different approach. Crouching low again, I moved forward with a hook to where I assumed his liver would be. The purpose of crouching was to throw off his perception of where my vital points should be. Assuming he could not see in the dark, of course. But luckily for me, that was not the case.
My first strike was practiced with precision. Yet, I completely missed his liver striking his diaphragm, instead. Pain exploded from my shoulder as he stabbed the knife deep into my flesh and began to twist. A grunt of pain escaped my lips as I tried to remain focused. My left arm was beginning to turn numb as blood leaked out of the wound. I did not despair. What would be the point in doing so anyway? No, I had to cling to my focus with everything I have. Grabbing the wrist holding the blade, I began to exert more force. He tried to resist me, swearing profusely the entire time profusely, until I managed to wrench his grip off the knife.
What I did next could only be considered risky at best, and absolutely stupid in general. I removed the blade from my shoulder, causing the blood to spray like an open tap. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I lashed out almost instantly with the knife. I just continued to stab him; his scream to me sounded like the sweetest melody. I stabbed him continuously, far more excessively than necessary, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. When my frenzy finally ended, I was out of breath and lightheaded. The blood continued to flow from my shoulder. I had to act fast, lest I be done in by blood loss. Crouching over the corpse of my victim, I ripped off a piece of his clothes and made a crude bandage. When that was finished, I looked around once more. Where once there were thirteen, now there were only nine contestants left. The weakling I had been hunting was nowhere to be found. It was slightly annoying but not detrimental. Now that I had a weapon, I was far more confident in taking out one of the stronger contestants.
After catching my breath for a while, I began my search for my next prey. Just the thought of the upcoming hunt was enough for my bloodlust to slowly begin to leak out. Normally, I would have restrained myself, not allowing my bloodlust to leak out so easily. But in this situation, I did not care enough to hold myself back. With that in mind, I released it to its fullest. A weight was lifted from my shoulders as I set it free. My eyes traveled to the closest enemy, and with cautious steps, I moved forward. My grip on the knife grew tighter as I grew closer. When I moved into the range, I made my move. My bent knees sprang forward, the knife held in front of me. I felt resistance as my blade stabbed into soft flesh. A scream of pain escaped my opponent's lips. Before he could retaliate, my blade had already found his throat.
I did not even let his body fall before I moved on to my next kill. Three more people fell to my blade. The element of surprise worked wonders in this dark room. The other contestants had not remained idle during this time. Now, only three of us remained within the darkness. And from their life signs, they were far from weak. I erred on the side of caution as I observed them silently. One thing all of us had in common was the ability to find other contestants. Both of them were making a beeline directly towards me. I guessed that they were capable of sensing my presence and thought me the weakest of the three. On purely technical terms, they were correct, but I doubted either of them could match me in pure skill.
My bloodlust demanded that I charge into the battle with reckless abandon, but doing so would mean my end. With great effort, I held myself back. I was far from strong enough to truly let myself go on the battlefield. I was ripped out of my musing as a throwing knife stabbed directly into my abdomen. A small cry of pain escaped my lips as the force of the throw threw me on my back in a very vulnerable position. The pain was searing, but I could not allow myself to dwell on it, or I'd be dead before I could resist. Prana flowed into my body as I strengthened it temporarily. The prana gave me just enough power to fight for the next five minutes. Knowing that I was moving on borrowed time, I got off my back and dashed towards the closest enemy. But he was ready for my assault; my knife was parried by a short sword. The parry was quickly shifted into a counter as the blade cut through three of my fingers.
It hurt like hell, but that did not matter. A wave of weakness washed over me. Forcing more prana into my body, I struck again. My blade met only air as he dodged the blow. My instincts screamed of fatal danger from behind me. Without even thinking, I crouched low. The whistle of another throwing knife passed over my head. Striking the swordsman I had been battling, and causing him to grunt. I moved forward, knife in my hand, to capitalize on my opponent's temporary distraction. Yet it was still not enough as his sword met my knife once again. Before I could retreat a few steps, another throwing knife stabbed into my back, causing my steps to falter. I fell on my knee at the pain lancing from my many open wounds.
My eyes were blinded as the sword began to glow an eerie yellow, aimed directly at my head. I watched as if in slow motion as the blade moved towards my head. I was at my wits' end, and I knew that I had no hope of avoiding the blow. So I merely watched my death approach with defiance.