Queen's Blade Championship
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Nightmare Part 3

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Nightmare Part 3

Post by Sephira on Sun Jul 14, 2013 2:20 am

Lying on four legs Basil looked up. His father’s body was not falling to the ground, although being decapitated. In horror Blackheart saw it expanding. Trembling on all four Basil tried to stand up, but managed to bring himself only to his knees. The rotting corpse was so inflated that it looked as a balloon. Suddenly it reached it’s limit and exploded in black blood. In a split second the blood drops instead of flying away from the explosion, flew into it regenerating a human body. Breathing heavily Basil was awaiting the black liquid to reveal his father but was shocked from the result. Retreating to the ground the liquid revealed Basil’s face, followed by the rest of him. This Blackheart was slightly different. His skin was pale white, as if there was no life in it. His eyes were empty and soulless. His face was cold, so there was no difference there. His armor was black, as was his cape. His giant axe was somehow rested on his back with it’s handle showing over his left shoulder and the blade was showing under his cape, next to his right foot. The real Basil reached fro his axe but in it’s place there were only ashes. The pale Blackheart’s eyes turned red and he came to life. He looked down to his other version.

Pale Blackheart: Kneel before me!

Basil was not believing his eyes. He thought he had seen everything but he was wrong.

Basil Blackheart: What are you demon?

The pale Blackheart smiled and stepped closer to his kneeling copy.

Pale Blackheart: I am The Executioner!

With blood dripping from him, Basil brought himself up on one knee. He laughed. His laughter was full of desperation.

Basil Blackheart: Yeah-yeah. I am also the executioner.

The pale Blackheart responded with a laughter of its own.

Pale Blackheart: No.... you are nothing!

The black armored man came closer to Basil and without giving him time to react hit him with the outer side of his hand, sending him flying backwards.

The Executioner: I am what you could have been if you were not weak.

Blackheart’s face was still hurting from the hit. He tried to stand up, but the demon did not let him. The Executioner rushed to his downed opponent and kicked him in the stomach. Basil’s wounds bleed from the hit. The Executioner repeated the hit with more strength behind it. Basil spit on the ground had some blood in it. The pale Blackheart repels his kick for a third time, this time with even more power behind it. The kick was strong enough to send Basil slightly in the air and turn him to fall on his back.

The Executioner: I am The Hand of the Queen.

The pale Blackheart stepped on Basil’s chest and rested his weight on it. Basil was having troubles breathing. He was choking on the blood in his mouth and the weight of his demonic copy was making it even harder.

The Executioner: I am the strongest being after the Queen.

The Executioner leaned forward bringing more weight onto Basil’s chest. Blackheart groaned in pain. He grabbed the foot of his pale copy trying to push it aside but to no avail.

The Executioner: And what are you?

The pale Blackheart lifted his foot from the ground leaving all of his weight on Basil’s chest. The beaten man’s legs were waving around helplessly. Basil began blacking out.

The Executioner: You are nothing but a weakling!

The Executioner rested back on the ground, but his boot remained on top of Blackheart. The pale Blackheart began malevolently pushing down Basil’s chest with angry stomps. It wasn't a long time before Basil’s chest began cracking. Some of his ribs were already broken. The beaten man was screaming in pain but his demonic counterpart didn't stop punishing him.

The Executioner: Weakling like you must be punished!

The pain pushed Basil to the brink. He was either going to push The Executioner’s foot away or he was going to die. This with the help of all the anger left in him gave him strength for a one last try. As the Executioner was bringing his foot up, before striking Basil, he grabbed the bottom of the boot and with all his strength twisted it in an unusual way. The pale Blackheart stumbled and fell with a groan next to his bloodied counterpart. Basil let out a sight of relief. His body was still paralyzed with pain. He was hardly breathing. „I will not end like this! I will be the Hand of the Queen!” – echoed in Blackheart’s head. He tried to get up but the pain was too much. He he pressed down on his ribs and felt their movement, felt the pain. Being busy with the pain Blackheart didn't realize that the Executioner was back on his feet. The black armored man bent over Basil and grabbed him by the throat.

The Executioner: That was weak!

The Executioner lifted Basil up as if with no effort. With unmatched power the pale Blackheart was holding his weaker counterpart above the ground, choking him. Basil’s hand were wrapped around the Executioner’s wrist, trying to force it to release his grasp, but there was not enough strength for that. Blackheart began fading away. One moment he’s alive and trying to set himself free, the next his body relaxes and hangs motionless, just to be up and fighting again after a while.

The Executioner: You are pathetic. You want to be the Hand of the Queen but you can’t even escape my hand.

The Executioner’s demonic gaze was locked onto Basil’s eyes and it was as if he was sucking Basil’s soul through them. In panic Blackheart desperately began flailing his legs on his demonic counterpart. Those uncoordinated kicks were landing all over the Executioner’s body. The daemon didn't appear to be hurt by any of them. The pale Blackheart responded to this act of desperation with a malevolent laughter. Gasping for air Basil was drooling. His eyes were whitening. Life was about to let him go. Thousands of images start flashing in front of Basil’s eyes. There is him back in the dungeon where he was tortured, there was his fathers corpse, fighting with him, there was his loss against Damion MacSteele and finally there was him kneeling before the Queen. „Prove me wrong” – echoed in his head. This brought Basil back from the land of the dead. There was still and ounce of strength left in him and he was determined to use it to prove he ain't a weakling. Using his lower body’s strength Blackheart brings his legs on his demonic counterpart’s shoulder level and starts kicking him in the chin. The Executioner once again responds with a laughter.

The Executioner: Thats more like it, I like it when they squirm.

Seeing his actions are to no avail Basil changes his tactic. He realizes he can’t beat his demonic counterpart with brute strength, because he doesn't have much strength left in him, neither does he have it in general as the demon possessed unmatched power. Basil had to use his wits. Coughing and spitting all over the place Blackheart was able to grunt a few word out.

Basil Blackheart: At..least .... look me in the eyes!

The Executioner laughs once again.

The Executioner: As you wish, weakling.

The pale Blackheart bring Basil in breathing distance and stares right into his eyes.

The Executioner: I want to feel how your breath stops.

That was all Blackheart was hoping for. Quickly he reaches for the handle of the axe, sticking above the Executioner’s shoulder. Grabbing it with both of his hands Basil pulls it from beneath the black cape. Shocked from the event the Executioner releases Basil from his grasp, trying to reach out for his axe. Falling on one foot, Blackheart spins around, stretching the axe outwards, evading the Executioners try to grab the axe’s handle. Spinning around, using the momentum Basil turns the axe’s blade with it’s back part, which was resembling a curved spike, made for going trough armor, towards his demonic counterpart. The sound of the axe going trough the executioner’s armor echoes in the room, as Blackheart drives the spike trough the black armored man’s chest. The Executioner was not believing what had happened. A loud growl filled the room. The Executioner began melting into a pool for black blood as his growl faded out. His axe turned to ashes. The power of the growl had pushed Basil away from his melting counterpart. Hardly breathing Blackheart was lying on the cold floor looking at the executioner. Soon the pale Blackheart was gone, in his place there was a large pool of black liquid, resembling blood. An almost invisible smile appeared on Basil’s face. He himself was lying in a pool of his own blood. His chest was hurting, his lunges were struggling, he was coughing and gasping for air, but he was happy. „I am the executioner! I am not a weakling!” – he talked to himself as he was slowly passing out. Just as he was about to lose consciousness he was interrupted by a terrifying grow. His eyes opened and gazed to where the pool of blood was to see....
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Sephira
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