Varni

t w e n t y

I pulled the bunny mask over my face, feeling its weight settle into place. The white surface, marred with splatters of red, was a stark contrast to the somber gravestones. I whispered a silent promise, then turned away, my steps firm and resolute. Tonight, I would make my first appearance in the underground. I would make Kaea known and gain more members.

I slipped through the rusted gate that concealed the entrance to the tunnels beneath the city. The labyrinthine passages welcomed me, their flickering lights casting eerie shadows. I moved with the confidence I didn't entirely feel, my senses sharp, anticipating the confrontation ahead.

The underground arena buzzed with the murmur of spectators. They thrived on chaos and bloodshed, and tonight, they would witness me for the first time. As I approached the crude, makeshift ring, I could feel the weight of their stares. They had heard whispers of me, but none had seen me fight. They were curious about me.

My opponent stood in the center of the ring, a hulking brute known for his strength and ruthlessness. I sized him up, my eyes narrowing behind the mask. This was my first real test, and I had no intention of backing down.

The referee signaled the start of the fight. Tank lunged forward with a roar, his massive fists swinging. I dodged, my movements fluid and swift. I countered with quick, precise strikes, aiming for his weak spots. My agility and speed were my greatest assets, and I used them to my advantage, weaving around his powerful blows.

"You're going to regret this, little bunny," Tank taunted, his voice booming over the noise of the crowd. "I'll make sure you can't hop away again."

I didn't respond. My silence seemed to unnerve him, his frustration growing with each missed strike. The crowd's cheers grew louder, a cacophony of voices urging us on. My mask seemed to take on a life of its own, the red stains giving me an almost demonic appearance as I danced around Tank.

He landed a few hits, each one sending jolts of pain through my body, but I refused to falter. I channeled the pain into my strikes, each one more brutal than the last. Blood began to splatter across the ring, Tank's blood, painting the floor in crimson. His taunts grew weaker, more desperate.

With a sudden, calculated move, I swept Tank's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, I launched myself at him with a ferocity that took him by surprise. My fists rained down on him, each strike fueled by deep-seated rage and determination. I fought like a cornered animal, my brutality shocking even the most seasoned spectators.

"Speak, damn you!" Tank spat, blood spilling from his mouth. "Say something!"

But I remained silent, my eyes burning with intensity behind the mask. I struck him again and again, until he lay motionless, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. The arena fell silent for a moment, the crowd processing the unexpected outcome. Then, a chant began to rise, spreading like wildfire.

"Mute Killer! Mute Killer!"

I looked around, the mask hiding my expression, but the intensity of my gaze unmistakable. They thought I had killed him, and in their eyes, I had. I had earned their respect, not through brute strength, but through sheer tenacity and unrelenting ferocity. In the underground, respect was everything, and I had claimed it in a brutal way.

As I left the ring, the chants followed me, echoing through the tunnels. My journey was just beginning, but tonight I had made my mark. The Mute Killer was no longer just a mask; it was a legend in the making.

As I stepped out of the ring, the chants of "Mute Killer! Mute Killer!" reverberated through the underground tunnels, a testament to the mark I had made on my first night. My heart still pounded with the adrenaline of the fight, but I kept my stride steady, my head held high.