Day Three: Evening

[Jinpo]

Relentless.

Cargo brought the flail down on the blue alien?s visage again and again until it was as tender as raw meat and full of holes, similar to Swiss cheese. Sazuaa?s cheeseburger face now was unrecognizable, even to his attacker. When Cargo had gotten his fill of bludgeoning Saz?s now lifeless body, he observed a moment of silence to admire his work. While the teenager knew not who else he would kill in this game of death, he knew one thing for certain.

Sazuaa was dead and he was still alive.

That was all that mattered . . . for the moment.

Cargo leaned down and removed the flail from Sazuaa?s contorted countenance. The kid stood ankle deep in a puddle of blood belonging to his two victims during Dante?s Abyss.

?Neither of those two better have had AIDS.? he muttered as his tiptoed his way out of the sticky pool of vital fluids and proceeded to hobble away from the battlefield, without turning back.

All of Cargo?s battles up to this point had left the child?s body broken and battered. In addition to all of the internal injuries he had suffered earlier, Sazuaa had nearly cut the adolescent?s ankles to shreds. Yet, the olive warrior continued on with the same fire that burned within him after his ?emotional? ordeal. The pain was muted by the constant voice inside Cargo?s head that screamed for him to kill every last one of the remaining contestants in this game.

"Tap!?

?What the hell?? Cargo wondered. Was he hearing voices? He wasn?t in enough pain to make him delirious. The kid quickly turned on his scouter to scan for any power levels of significance within attack range. Cargo pondered as his scouter refused to light up with the signs of a potential fighter. ?Nothing. Then what the fuck did I hear?? It seemed like the Namekian?s brain had a mind of its own.

Tapion! Stay alive! I can NOT do this shit without you!"

?Wait a second . . .? the youngling uttered as the puzzle pieces began to assemble themselves within his mind. ?I think that Konat with the grenades was named Tapion. This must be a flashback from that fight with him and his Namekian partner.? The sudden realization launched Cargo headlong into an out-of-body experience into the past.

"Damnit!" Retane screamed, "Don't you fucking die!"The elder Namekian held his dying partner in his arms, tears flowing like waterfalls down his cheeks.

Sadness.

Cargo stood in silence, observing the sequence of events. He saw himself along with his latest victim, unconscious against the wall of the storage facility.

?Thanks, though," Tapion managed to spit out through bloody coughs. "Seriously...thank you, Retane."

The living partner?s uproarious grieving soon evolved into loud bellowing. Why did they have to take his friend? It was supposed to be Retane and Tapion in the final two. Now, their dream was gone. Why did it have to be him?

Anger.

The Namekian assassin rose to his feet with his comrade in his arms and a stolid look on his face. People were going to fall by his hand. He would make sure of it.

Suddenly, Cargo snapped out of his daydream; he was back in reality. He had been limping along the path the entire time. Luckily for him, no one was around to capitalize on the child?s active mind.

?Retane. So that is his name.? Cargo noted, ?Those two were definitely the gayest fighters I have ever seen.? The kid held back a chortle as his thoughts shifted towards why that specific thought had surfaced at that particular time. He could come up with only one answer: Retane would have to be next to die. The teenager continued to stagger down the forest path, guided by the moonlight, searching for his prey.