Elimination Exit

[Retane]

The wicked mercenary looked about him. With a quick flash, everything had changed. A seering pain had erupted around his neck as he was walking through the dark woods, which had seemingly transformed into a white walled room. It was quite obvious that the game was over, Retane had lost. He had failed the game, had succomb to the Abyss yet again. But, who had beaten him? Who would be able to claim that they had tooken out the Reaper of Death?

A glance around the room told Retane the answer. An electronic board hung on a far wall and listed the names of the forty-five contestants. At the moment, the Namekian had the most kills with four, followed up by Tapion with three. From the green warrior's comprehension, no one had killed him except for himself. He had wondered into a Danger Zone. An annoyed growl escaped his throat as it wasn't he who had kept track of the Forbidden areas, but it was Tapion that did.

The mercenary sneered as he saw his weapons resting in a corner; the ones from Abyss and Pre-Dante. Wasting little to no time, the namekian grabbed his rods and Deck of Cards and placed them on his belt, then followed up with his dagger-shooting guantlets. He only paused a moment to smile at the generousity of Syntech for delivering his old hands back to him. Ignoring them, he grabbed the two MOA daggers and slid them in his belt.

Then his eyes turned to the DA weapons. Oh how he loved collecting trinkets from his great excursions. The mercenary grabbed the Scythe and fingered it for a moment. The blade was long and sharp and he already knew it could slice a clean, precisioned cut through a nail that stuck into a neck.

"How ironic, that you go straight to that weapon, Retane." The namekian looked around trying to discern where the voice had come from and who it belonged to. "You see, you died via collar explosion and the penalty for that is death."

The namekians head darted left and right, hunting for a way to escape. He wasn't comfortable in this place and knew something was wrong.

"Theres no where to run, no way to escape. Before you came to there was a poison slipped into your throat. It's quite painless and within a few moments you'll be dead."

His lips opened wide to protest but it was to late. He felt his life force begin to slip away.

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"Ah Retane. Back again are you?"

The namekian peered out through his black hood. His face was hidden in the shadows and in his hand was the scythe. The mercenary winced at the booming voice of the giant red Ogre. Lord Yemma was the name, and Retane wasn't happy to see him. Seeing him meant that he had yet again failed to survive the cruel feats of life.

"Just tell me where I'm going", came the dark harsh whisper.