A Pound Of Flesh

One miscalculation was all it took and Tarnish's world exploded in pain. He felt fangs pierce the flesh of his face, down to the bone and instinctively he jerked his head back to try to save himself but between that motion and that of his opponent he felt his flesh rip. He shrieked in pain and anger, stumbling back as blood filled his eyes and stained his vision. He knew that he had lost… again he had lost. Why did he keep losing? He'd trained so hard, he was descended from a great fighter and yet still… tears mixed with the blood as he wiped at his face. "Y-you stupid fucker!" He hissed. He wanted a rematch, to fight again but he knew in his heart it was over. His rage was left unsated, his stomach knotting with the reality of it. "What did you just do?"



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