The drug deal was to take place on the far side of town in an abandoned factory that had seen better days. Rundown by either the harsh flow of time or addicts, the once red brick walls were stained brown and yellow. Trace smells of waste and excrement wafted around, forcing the two Earth Elves to stifle a gag.  

Servi crouched down next to Old Man, who leaned against the remains of some type of iron object. She placed her hand against the ground, feeling the gravel and rocks sink inside her palm. As Servi lifted it, most of the pebbles fell down, but one remained. She plucked it with her spare hand.  

Tiny and small, yet stubborn enough to cling on to the faintest flash of hope to escape the desolate factory. It was almost enough to make her crack a smile. It almost hurt her when she slowly turned her hand, and the pebble journeyed back down to the ground.  

It wouldn’t ever escape this place.  

Looking up, Servi felt the tips of her wig dance and flutter from a sudden breeze. Her disguised eye looked up at the moon. She wondered if her sin-stained soul even deserved to dance with the celestial objects. Would they be upset at her for having the audacity to believe she had the right to join them? Would they be happy? Would the moon roll out a metaphysical red-carpet in preparation for her arrival? And would the sun show up to give its thanks to the moon for making a lonely girl feel like she had a friend? 

What if giving people-like traits and feelings to the powerful objects above meant she was losing her grip on reality? She didn't know.

“Maybe I’m more suited to being a Mad Dog…” she whispered. At the end of the day, Servi knew there was one path always available to her. Like a failsafe, it was her last option in the traumatizing world that was her life.

“You say something? 

Servi looked up at Old Man and shook her head.  Her lavender locks covered her eye for just a moment. “It was nothing worth hearing. Keep your eyes up, and that fat fuck won’t yell at us,” Servi pointed to the Dwarf in question with her head.  

With a briefcase in one hand and a cigarette in the other, Baldy gripped the case’s leather handle with his thick hand. Other than a Kobold, a Dwarf’s grip strength couldn’t be matched. With his stocky build, not many Kobolds could match Baldy in physical strength, either.  

Carrie used her spear to hop down from a half wall. She locked eyes with Servi as she made her way over to Baldy. At that time, three people emerged from behind a wall on the northern side of the factory.  

All three were Humans. The two behind looked like hired hands. Their leather armor, painted black and red, helped reinforce their violent nature. The ones they were hired to protect, the one in front, wore a bishop's hat. A dirtied robe clad his body, while a bloody, iron scepter found a home on his back. His darkened face was kind and gentle, yet there were hints of something else. It was like his body radiated the fact he didn’t practice what he preached.  If anything, Servi was positive he never spent a second in prayer.

“The church?” Servi whispered. She didn't expect a member of the faith to be one they were selling to.  

Old Man turned to her. “Yep. The church in this town is just as bad as the Mafia. I’m sure that’s how the Monotonia spread around in the first place. Didn’t say it before, but Arcton used to be a bit religious. I guess the Gods don’t have a place in the hearts of man anymore. Not that I can blame them. I abandoned those worthless bastards decades ago.” 

Servi stood up and watched as the deal proceeded.  

“What's this? Armie, didn’t we agree on no mercs?” Baldy said, dropping his cigarette. His free hand went straight to his one-handed axe.  

“Liron, my friend, why did you bring backup?” Armie, the bishop, said. With speed that defied his appearance, Liron brought a hand over his shoulder and gripped the bloodstained handle belonging to his scepter. It was flat and smooth with protrusions. The head, jagged, thick, and smothered in wet crimson, felt like it hungered for another life. Unleashing it from his back, Armie immediately went for the deciding blow. Liron brought the handle of his axe up in time to deflect the sudden attack. A bit of blood splashed on his armor, but he ignored it and grinned.

The false bishop put all his strength into his attack, but Liron pushed back with barely any effort.

The two mercenaries, Oaklin, Daki, Carrie, Old Man, and Servi, stood back. Thanks to Soul Essence of Primal Combat, Servi knew there was no anger powering the strikes. It was all in good fun.  Suddenly, Armie laughed, causing his loose hat to rattle around his head.  Liron gave up on his pressure and allowed his foe to jump back.

“Bwahahhaha!!! Armie, it’s been far too long!” Liron slammed his axe to the ground and hugged Armie, taking his bishop hat in the process and exposing a bald head covered with cuts and bruises.

“Damn it, give me the hat back!” Armie exclaimed, dropping his weapon and extending his arms.  It made Servi sick to her stomach to see the pair acting like siblings, even though one was a Dwarven thug and the other a Human clergyman. Old Man couldn't help but feel flabbergasted. In his long years of living, the events happening before his eyes were a first! 

“Bwhahaha!!!” Liron put the hat on his head and twirled around. When tears threatened to leak from Armie's brown eyes, the Dwarf taunter laughed one more time and took off the hat. He held it out for his friend.

“How’s Lemmy doing?” asked Armie, whose emotions switched like a lever. He took the hat from Liron and cleaned it off. The Dwarf’s dirty hands had soiled the white cross engraved into it.

“He’s doing fine. You know how he can be,” Liron said. 

Lemmy? I wonder if that was the other Dwarf we saw with Liron. Itarr surmised.

“He’s all quiet, ain’t he?” Armie walked over to Carrie with Baldy. He tossed his cigarette and picked up the briefcase.  

“He is. Now, you got the money?” 

“What? You in a hurry to get out of here?” Armie asked.  

“Can you blame me? The commission I’m getting from this deal is huge. Gonna grab the boys and head over to the RASP on main street. I heard they got a few virgins in, and I'm ready to be the gardener if you know what I mean.” 

“Boys? You mean those two Elves you've been hanging around with?” 

“That’s right. Oaklin, Daki, get your asses down here!” 

At Liron’s yelling, the two Earth Elves, who were perched high on the abandoned factory’s roof, used Feather Fall as they hopped off. Oaklin's ponytail loyally followed behind like a lost puppy.

“I thought you hated those brown bastards. You still got the hate for Singi? What about the Koena?” asked Armie. His blatant racism was on full display.  Oaklin and Daki felt anger growing within them, but they knew better than act on it.

“I do, I do, and I still do. The quicker I can make em’ Numbered, the quicker I can rid of their sorry asses. Bwhahaha!!! Now, hurry up with the cash.” 

“Fine. Hey, the bags,” Armie pointed to the two men behind him. They dug into her their pockets to reveal two small purple bags each. After tossing them to Armie, he opened each to reveal a small stack of dupla. In total, it was 20,000 dupla, with five 1,000 dupla coins per bag.  

As Liron was double-checking it, Oaklin relaxed his arms. His left hand barely gripped an arrow meant to go the bow in his right hand if a fight was to break out.  

That would never happen. The situation, as it stood, never had a chance in hell of turning violent. The people involved in the exchange didn't see a reason to turn it ugly.

But Servi was the single exception. She had her own plan brewing over the day, and she was about to unleash it.

To start it off, Servi used Telekinesis to push Oaklin into Armie, then placed an anchor point on his arm to force the arrow into the false bishop's stomach. Simultaneously, she used Telekinesis to rip off the arrowhead and used it as a grinder to forcibly blend Armie’s innards from the inside out.

The false bishop convulsed, leaking crimson water from his eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. His ribs were broken, pierced, and shattered, sending bits of bone down to his stomach, cutting it. Stomach acid poured out like a waterfall since it had nothing to contain it, scorching the sensitive ligaments and muscles.

Though his face still twisted in pain from the leftover synapses firing off, his red soul was all the proof Servi needed to know that he had died.

“!!!” 

Not even a second later, it was chaos. Liron dropped his coins and carved his axe into Oaklin’s back before gripping his head and slamming him back. Because of Telekinesis and Skill Stack, Oaklin was effectively glued in place by an invisible force. Liron didn’t realize this and used all his strength. In no time at all, there was a visceral sounding rip. What followed was a beautiful crimson river flowing from the neck of one of Servi's enemies. Subtly, she grinned, knowing that she was about to have the chance to release her growing stress even more.

“OAKLIN!!!!” Daki screamed. He pointed to companion’s disembodied head that sat in Liron’s large hands.  

A red soul flowed to Servi, and she put her second plan into action. The two mercenaries Armie brought with him acted quickly, going for the throwing knives on their chest. It was child’s play to control them in such a way that two landed in Liron’s thick arm, and two were on a direct course for Carrie’s heart. However, Servi rushed to protect her, taking the stray projectiles in her own chest for the sake of her plan.  

“AAAHHHHH!!!” Servi screamed in pain, falling to her knees. She had miscalculated the strength required and accidentally punctured her heart. Itarr sprung into action, healing the fatal damage not even a millisecond after it had occurred. The Goddess couldn't go overboard, however, and left most of the wound untouched. It pained her greatly, but Itarr had to wait until she had a chance to mask her healing to cure the lesser injuries.

Still on her knees, Servi's exaggerated breaths did little to dilute the great pain she felt.  The agony of scalping her own head or removing her eye didn't compare at all to the lingering effects of a pierced heart.

I won't die... I won't die... I won't DIE!!!

Carrie and Old Man were absolutely stunned. Their feet were locked into place by what they considered to be the worst-case scenario.  What Servi had alluded to was happening before their very eyes.

“Williana—” Carrie began to speak, but she was cut off by a blood-curdling scream. Servi had ripped out both knives, leaving the twin streaks of flowing blood that danced down her dirtied tunic.  

“FUCKING DIE!!!!” Servi screamed as blood spurted from her mouth. She used Soul Essence of Primal Combat to guide her arm as she returned the knives to their owners’ faces. They flew so fast they were lodged in their heads. Pink brain matter dripped down, coating their backs.  A second later, the strength left their bodies as they fell forward, further pushing the knives in.

In a matter of five or six seconds, Oaklin, the two mercenaries, and Armie all passed away in the midst of chaos orchestrated by a devilish maestro.  

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU, CARRIE!!” Servi yelled. She held a hand to her injuries and cried out in pain. “I FUCKING TOLD YOU!  HE WANTS TO FUCKING KILL US!!!” 

The remaining Earth Elf exploded into tears, wailing incomprehensibly to anything that spared an ear.

“EVERYONE, SHUT THE FUCK UP! Daki, stop crying like a fucking bitch!” Liron cocked his arms back and tossed Oaklin's head at him. Daki caught it, screamed, and collapsed to his knees. Oaklin’s head bounced out of his friend's arms, rolling until his blank eyes stared up at his friend.

The two lifeless eyes were too much, and Daki passed out.  

“Liron, what the fuck did you do?!” Carrie yelled. The sheer shock of everything had finally settled down enough for her to move again.  

“I OUT RANK YOU!!!! DON'T CALL ME THAT!!!!” Liron exclaimed, pulling his weapon from Oaklin’s back. His heavy hands gripped the wooden handle, and the axe’s silver edge was dyed crimson.  

“Bullshit! I know what the fuck you’re doing! You aren—“ 

“FUCKING DIE!!!” she expected such a shrill voice to come from Liron, but Carrie was surprised and utterly horrified to find Servi standing over Daki’s body. With daggers held in both hands, Servi fell to her knees and stabbed his body over and over again.  Everyone present couldn't help but stare at the brutality of her actions.

From his chest to his neck, Servi created 47 wounds the size of a dupla and leaked a crimson mixture of white and red. She screamed and lost herself to rage. As for whether or not it was an act? It couldn't have been, because Servi was very conscious of her actions. She was well aware that her hands were deep inside his exposed chest cavity and that she was pulling his spinal cord out from behind his heart. Her eye vividly remembered the feeling of pushing Daki's spine through his chin, extracting it from the top of his head.

Blood, bone, fat, any and everything splashed out from his body. Such a horrific sight was far too much for even the likes of Liron, who was used to torturing. Even then, he wouldn't go as far as to pierce a dead man’s throat and rip his jaw from the inside.  

“FUCKING DIE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!! FUCKING TRAITOR!!!!” Servi yelled. She didn’t know if her words were directed to Liron, Daki, Carrie, Old Man, or herself.  

She honestly didn’t know.  

“WILLIANA, STOP IT!!” barked Carrie. She dropped her spear and ran to Servi.  

“Carrie, he’s a goddamn traitor! He probably told that fucking Elf to attack the buyer!!!” Servi looked up at Carrie, meeting her gaze.  

The Singi flinched, feeling a deep dread that nearly froze her beating heart. She wasn’t looking at the face of the girl who she paid for sex. No, that person no longer existed, having been taken over by a force much more sinister with nearly no limits to control her actions.

Instead, she was looking at the face of a demon. All that blood, all that bone, that gut, muscle, fat; everything surrounded a perfect smile. The whites of Servi’s teeth surrounded by crimson were beautiful in their own way.