Apprentice

Introduction: I'm a monster

Blood. It was on every surface of the area-the lush green trees, the pure white flowers, the sharp blades of grass-it was everywhere.

But it still wasn't over.

The fighting was yet to end. The stench of death and distraught clung to the air like a suffocating fog, and the howls of despair and anger still lingered in my ears like it never ended. Lives shattered, loved ones lost and all traces of sanity gone. Insanity and the inhuman, monstrous lust for revenge locked up the human in them, threw away the key, and released the monster they had hidden from the world.

I couldn't stop this, even if I tried. Even though I made this happen. 

I am the apprentice. If the master wants me to drag everyone in Tekkitopia to the arena to wait for death, so be it. If the master wants me to alter the playing field to make the game more exciting, then that is what I must do. I helped to cause this, so all I can do is stand by the giant glass dome that held everyone captive to fight to the death and just watch.

I've come to the conclusion that I, like my master, am a monster.

A long time ago, I used to care. I used to love. I used to be fun, friendly, kind, a nice girl who got on with life and had my whole life ahead of me. Long ago, I used to be friends with the people in this arena. But he took it away from me. He reached out his hand, and with a click of his fingers my life turned upside down. I was nothing but a tool to perfect the masters masterpiece. On the outside, my face is blank; no emotion, no guilt, no remorse. No love.

But if you were to look deep enough, you would see that I have emotions, I just hide them. The endless torturing of innocent people for my master's pleasure is chipping away at my body, my mind, my sanity, my very soul. It's only a matter of time before I give up. Before I become insane. Before I begin to enjoy this sick, twisted horror of a job.

It's not the best future to look forward to.

People say I wanted this. Do you think that? Do you really think I want to watch people murder each other for pointless reasons, to respawn and remember the monster they had become, the memories of those they killed? To enjoy watching them wake up in the morning trying to get on with life, then fail to be able to look those they killed in the eye? This game destroys lives. It may let you respawn your physical body, but mentally, you are destroyed. Nothing is left. Nobody wins these games, no one. Only the one who makes the them. And if you think I enjoy this, then I am afraid you are the crazy one.

Watching the master hover above the arena, his sick malicious grin visible from here, the vicious insanity in his eyes, gleaming in the moonlight as they dart around, eagerly fixated on the action below, the dark rumbling laughter as they tear each other apart...all this makes me wonder if I have a life at all. If life is really worth living.

His long, midnight black coat billows out behind him as he descends towards me on the ground. He was wearing his usual attire, a white shirt with the top button undone, slim brown pants and leather boots that clink when they touch the ground. The floppy, auburn hair he took so much pride in keeping perfect was fluttering in the wind that was beginning to stir. He carried with him the smell of death. Agony. Torture.

He was a walking death sentence.

It was ironic how this flawless looking demigod, with gorgeous looks and an irresistible charm that he had, which he only used when he needed to, was the image of an angel, even though he was a devil in disguise. 

"There's a storm coming. A big one." I mutter quietly, my voice low and formal. Sometimes, when he was in a good mood, I could make a few cheeky remarks about something, and I could get away with it. But not when he's like this. He had stopped a few metres away from me.