Insanity
Neither of them thought it would end the way that it did. That is typically the thought when such atrocities happen in our world. Cryptite looked down at his hands, covered in blood and the thin fluid of a potion bottle that finally broke. His mind could barely grasp the events that just transpired. It began with laughter and simple sparring. Eric decided to test the prowess of Loka’s high champion. What he did not expect was how much it would escalate.
Swords rang against one another as they swung and parried in turn. Both did well in combat but the observers knew who was the better of the two. Cryptite was never one to back down from a friendly challenge though.
Sparks sailed through the air as their blades met at just the right angle. The flash was enough to draw anyone’s attention. Crypt’s blade fell to the ground after Eric landed a stray blow. The champion of Loka felt the hit resonate through his arm, nearly making it go numb. The man hardly ever let emotion get the better of him, but a fire began to grow from the pit of his stomach. Before Eric could prepare another offensive, Crypt spun and landed a closed fist to his jaw, causing him to drop his sword as well. The two men started exchanging blows. The swordplay had ended and a bare knuckle brawl began. Crypt could feel his blood boiling and the bruises begin to spread almost immediately. Eric was suffering the same but nothing could have prepared him for his coming fate.
A monster rose from inside of Loka’s esteemed leader. His fist ripped through the air and met Eric’s face with a force unequaled by most mortal means. He could feel the bones cracking with each successful hit. Eric was disoriented at this point, he could tell. It did not stop him. Crypt reached to his belt and grabbed the potion that was slung there. The thick glass was as bad as any blunt weapon. The sound it made when slamming into his foe’s face was sickening at best. The attack remained unrelenting.
Crypt blinked the world into focus. His rage through years of war seethed after his eruption. He was on his knees looking down at the body of his friend who he was just sparring with. The bottle had finally broken, the light blue liquid spraying everywhere. The scene was brutal and Crypt was mortified at the results of his rage. He looked into the eyes of his victim, a gaze frozen in horror with mouth agape. It was a gaze of terror that was put in place at the realization of just what was going on. The same look of surprise and oddly paired satisfaction was on Cryptite’s face as he held the head before him. It all came back to him now. He tore the head from the man’s body during the fight.
With his bare hands.
