(Rated M for graphic blood and gore)
There was blood in the sand. Blood on the walls. Blood on some of the spectators, flung high up over the rails and into the crowd.
Everything that had been sent into the pit was dead. Beyond dead - dismembered, mutilated, pureed in dome cases. The crowd was silent as they awaited the next challenge for the monster standing amidst it all.
There in the middle of the blood soaked sand stood a single man. Despite the carnage around him, he didn't appear threatening at all - he was barely a man, actually, more just a kid, standing at 5'8", thin, wearing a nondescript hooded jacket. The only odd thing about him seemed to be his eyes, a shade of blue that ought not to appear on a normal human.
Oh, and that ever-present, manic grin, full of insanity and bloodlust. Let's not forget that.
He was staring down near his feet, examining his reflection in a puddle of blood, littered with the fingers and toes of his last group of would-be challengers. This was why the crowd was silent - he'd tortured them, one by one, cutting off small pieces of their extremities, laughing maniacally while they screamed. All the while, he'd be hacked at by swords, spears, axes... but nothing made a difference. If an arm or a hand full off, some weird, black....thing would reach out from his mass, grab the closest chunk of meet, and a moment later the limb would regrow as if nothing had happened. Rinse and repeat.
And do, the crowd continued to stare in shocked silence at this boy, this abomination that had somehow thwarted legions of men and monsters in the last couple hours.
What could possibly come next?