Orcinus the Killer Whale was hungry and he had never tried Alterian before. A low, guttural growl came out as he made his way down the stairs, cracking underneath with every step.

The sprinkler system turned on, washing the blood and brains off the walls, down the stairwell, and there wasn’t a singular part left of Alto’s business casual outfit that was clean.

While making his way up the stairs to meet the apex predator, he picked up another plasma sword, squeezed the handle, and it jutted out. He rubbed it against the rail sparks flying, finding it hard to focus because it was taking too long.

He needed to finish Orcinus quickly.

His parking meter was about to run out.

“I don’t have time to waste on you! Move aside or die,” Alto shouted.

Orcinus let out a loud laugh, his voice echoing through the corpse-filled stairwell, and opened his blowhole, letting all the water stream in. His heavy breathing became steady, his body more agile and his eyesight focused.

“Why aren’t you moving? Are you deaf,” Alto snarled.

He dashed to Orcinus and punched him squarely in his stomach. His punch rippled against his stomach and….nothing happened.

Nothing.

Alto stood in astonishment as Orcinus let out another hearty laugh. The Fearsome Feardorcha had met his match.

“Feardorcha is feared no more," said Orcinus. “Prepare to die.”

“Can we not do this," Alto asked. “I really just want to find my husband."

Orcinus frowned so hard, a vein popped out from his sweaty, oily forehead.

“You’re going to fight me and lose! Don’t deny it," yelled Orcinus.

He turned red, gripped his fists, ground his sharp teeth, and aimed his head, positioning his blowhole straight forward. Alto was thrown off his feet, smacked into the back wall, a hot gush of water propelling him back.

He fell down the stairwell, sliding on the wall, smacking onto the warm floor, blood mixed into it, and was confused. This was not how it worked. He was the one who caused pain; not the other way around.

He shakily stood up, using the sword to prop himself up, and Orcinus continued on, the water filling him up again breathing hard, huffing, his meal so close.

Alto didn’t want to get close again, another hit would do more than smack him sideways. His head was beating like a drum, he could feel the beads still moving. He could chuck the plasma sword, but the minute the handle wasn’t squeezed, it would turn off and smack Orcinus with only the handle.

He needed something to tie it, so Alto ran, thinking he had speed on his side.

He thought.

Orcinus fell down, face first, arms out, and slid down the stairs, his aquatic body perfect for the environment. He would smack into the walls at every turn of the stairwell, and Alto would have another moment to gain his momentum, but Orcinus was within range.

He would open his mouth as slid down the stairs, consuming the corpses of other Aecors, growling, and hissing. Orcinus was close enough to bite off the back of Alto’s jacket, and that’s when he became desperate.

He jumped over the railing and Orcinus missed, smacking into another cement wall, his gaping maw losing a few teeth. Orcinus got up quickly, the temptation of food being his number one motivator, and peered over the railing.

His gums tingled as new teeth filled in, and he grimaced, his meal was gone. From his line of view, it was impossible to see where Alto went, his head too round and short, and he waited to hear a noise, but only the soft shaah of the sprinkler system could be heard.

The security guards watching the CCTV assumed Alto was dead, and they turned off the sprinkler systems, much to Orcinus’s dismay, and immediately he started to dry out and become slow and sluggish. Grumbling, groaning, complaining to himself, he made his way back up the stairs, and it was more difficult than going downwards without the water.

Alto was not very far behind.

He hung underneath, using his upper set of arms to hang on to the underside of the stairwell and his legs to hang onto one of the hanging lights, pressing himself up to the ceiling.

Using his lower set of arms, he ripped off his ruined wet shirt, wrapped it around the handle of his sword, so the blade would always stick out, and made himself a harpoon.

It was time to go whale hunting.

Climbing and jumping up the rails was difficult, the stairwell still wet, but now that Orcinus was slow, he had the advantage. Alto would climb the sides, the sound of Orcinus’s heavy steps masking the sound of him sliding up the railing.

Every time he paused to take a breath, Alto would pause as well, his heart about to give out from the exertion. Dread set in once the sprinkler system turned on again; he was spotted.

Orcinus was too fat to move his small, meaty, neck, and instead turned in the same place, making him vulnerable.  Alto jumped to the underside of the stairwell above him once he looked away and again hung on with his upper arms. He threw the sword, piercing Orcinus skin, and he screamed, shooting water out in surprise.

He stumbled to the ground, and Alto carefully made his way down, rolling onto the floor, Orcinus’s blood in the water, the smell of fish in the air.

“Time for you to be of use ,” Alto said.

Pushing Orcinus down, Alto smiled, the mask of another monster was gone, pushing the sword deeper in. Using his upper arms, he held Orcinus down, and he squealed like a pig, and went limp, once the sword had made its way halfway through his head.

It was not enough.

Grunting and heaving, Alto pushed the sword all the way through, until he hit the grey floor. It was no longer about winning, that much was clear, once he pulled the sword out, and cut.

He cut, in the order he always did.

“So disgusting,” Alto sighed. “You’re less than dirt.”

His face was blank, no emotion shown, as he lopped off his hands, then his forearms, and stopped, considering that he needed to keep this one. He needed another meatshield, but Orcinus was too much of a burden to carry. The video feed of him standing over his corpse was odd, as he was observing the desecrated corpse analytically.

He decided to get rid of only the limbs.

Orcinus was now a wrapped sushi roll, headless, no limbs, his torso wrapped with what was remaining of Alto’s jacket and shirt. The sleeve was used as a rope to drag his torso along, making it easier to bring up the stairs. Once at the top of the stairs, he pushed the corpse down the stairwell, as a last hurrah.

Alto was confident he would finish soon once he tore off the door at the top of the stairwell and entered another plush, red-carpeted hallway.

He was greeted by more Aecors, but these appeared to him nothing but ants. None of them had the confidence nor bravado of Orcinus.

“Where is my husband,” Alto asked. “My parking meter is almost out.”

Covered in blood and smelling like fish, the Aecors who saw him decided that they valued their lives more than the small chance of being the one who killed The Fearsome Feardorcha. They ran, dorsal fins receding, and Alto sighed.

“Who do I need to kill next for some answers around here,” he mumbled to himself.

While walking down the hallway, Alto wondered if they chose red for the carpeting to cover up the color of blood.

He opened the first door he saw, and inside was another delusional fish-man, assured that he would be the one to kill a man who did not see any of them as a real threat.

Phias The Swordfish was smooth and toothless. He wore dentures that clattered whenever he spoke as if he were always cold. He was a skinny and tall fish-man, with an impish face. Just like Orcinus, he wore ill-fitting clothes. They were too big and made him look even skinnier than he already was. It had a floral print, and his sleeves were rolled up, as well as the ends of his pants.

“I am Phias," he said, announcing himself. “Prepare to -”

Alto ignored him and kept walking.

“You can’t ignore me," yelled Phias. “That’s against the rules!"

“What rules?”

Phias did not reply.

“Have you seen a skinny, red-haired man," asked Alto.

Phias nodded. Then he froze. He wasn’t supposed to say anything to anyone, and here he was, being easily swept away by someone being polite.

“Good. Tell me where he is," said Alto.

Phias said nothing.

Alto walked right up to Phias and grabbed him by his neck, choking him just enough so he wouldn’t accidentally crush his windpipes.

“I am tired of repeating myself today. Tell me where my husband is."

Phias could not reply because he could not breathe.

Alto waited for a reply but realized his mistake, and let him go. Clutching his neck and coughing, he spoke.

“I saw him behind a red door. There’s a green door in that room as well."

Alto smiled, his monstrous teeth pressing against his lower lip, and walked off to find his spouse.

Phias attempted to kick him as he left but Alto swiftly turned and grabbed his leg with his lower right hand. He squeezed, and his ankle bones cracked like a thin pencil, blood coating his hands that would never be clean that afternoon.

Alto stared him right in the eyes as he did so, making sure that he would know every detail of the face of the man that ruined his leg.

As he fell to the ground in pain, Alto wiped the blood on his hands off on the wall. More concerned with taking a shower so he would look nice when he apologized to his husband, he left, muttering that he hated the smell of rotting fish.