| Violet Feathers | Creeper x OC

Battleground

I do not own anything but my characters.

Quotes and meanings below.
"Speaking aloud"
'Speaking telepathically'
Subconscious thoughts, deep in the mind and cannot be heard by others at all.

This is a remake of the first fanfic story I had ever made, back when I was 13. For those of you who follow me and have decided to hop onto this story, I am sooooo sorry for making so many of these stories and not finishing them. This is a story I feel very strongly about because it is my own personal OC of myself being written into this story. I've always wanted to do this, pair my very favorite horror character with my own little perfect version of myself. I just never did because of a number of personal reasons (example: An overbearing, jealous ex boyfriend who for some reason thought pairing my own fictional version of myself with The Creeper was considered 'cheating'.)

This will be the best story that I can make it. I feel very passionate about this, and hope those of you reading this first chapter will stick around.

WARNING: This story contains M-rated content that may not be taken lightly by some readers.
This story contains the following, and is not limited to:

Excessive Violence
Torture
Physical, Mental, and Sexual Abuse
Exposure of Phobias
Self-Harm
Foul Language
Explicit Sexual Activity
Rape
Suicide

Chapter 1: Battleground

The uproarious crowd acclamation cheers through the underground stadium, the thunderous voices from all directions ring through my ears.

Lying down upon the cracked and eroded cement floor, the intense, radiant beams of light from above make me feel as though I am an ant beneath a magnifying glass.

Very slowly I open my eyes, the roaring sounds from the crowd spectating from all around nearly sets me off in a panic, realizing I have been placed in this nightmarish battleground once again.

Still battered and bruised from the last brawl I was forced to take part in only 24 hours ago, I shakily push myself off the cement floor. Scanning my surroundings with my vibrant, naturally lavender eyes, the familiar crowds of humans and undercover, human-like immortals all crowd the bleachers beyond the protective glass. The glass exists to protect the viewers from the creatures fighting within this large, football field-sized stadium beneath the ground.

One of those creatures being held on the field to be showcased, if it weren't obvious already, is yours truly.

Standing upon my feet, my hip-length, ebony black hair feels similar to a cape. Dressed in the usual black, hospital-like gown, my blurry vision locks onto my opponent standing across the field from me.

Focusing my eyes on her, I realize now that we have both been paired against one another already before.

Across from me stands a dangerously malnourished female, her body decorated in an assortment of scars and gashes from the previous tormentations she had gone through.

My own malnourished body also bears countless scars from this hellhole and its people finding amusement out of my suffering, either through battles or experimentation.

The poor, broken girl across from me gazes at me through pained, icy blue eyes. The familiar, eruptious siren goes off, making the crowds of people rise from their seats to get a better view.

The circular clamps around our right ankles snap open just as the siren sounds, releasing us from our hold.

The battle has begun...