Day Two: Early Morning

[Tapion]

Standing idly within the confines of a naturally formed rotunda, surrounded by jungle on all sides and with the faint but nauseating odor of freshly spilt blood dancing around his nostrils, Tapion couldn?t help but wonder what toll this ?game? was having on his mind. The sight of death was one that no mortal deserved to face, but on this particular island in only the last day or so, that very image had grown to become almost a normalcy.

With his eyes glancing over the disembodied reptilian before him, the non-transformer mentally went over the events which had lead him to this particular moment in time. In only the last few hours so many lives had been taken with his very own hands, hands which now trembled at the mere thought of what they had done. But it was not the lives which he had taken that concerned Tapion; it was the feeling which had overridden his senses the moment before each kill.

To describe it was impossible, it was like ecstasy flowing through his body. If not only for a moment it was a feeling of warmth that made him forget his fatigue, his fear, and seemingly the game itself. Then after committing the sinful action a gentle calm would overtake his consciousness, a comfort comparable only to an after sex cigarette.

Raising his right hand and brushing it slowly through his sweat soaked hair, Tapion wondered. Am I addicted to murder? The question was rhetorical because he feared that he already knew the answer.

?You should eat something kid, your not looking so good.? The uncharacteristic words came from Retane, a fighter whose concerns normally would never be wasted on the looks of another. Knowing this Tapion figured if his namekian ally would actually show concern for his appearance, then he probably looked like total shit.