Every day I am hunted. Every day, every hour, every minute. I am stalked endlessly through this obstructive gloom. For countless years I have been unable to see more than ten feet in any direction, I use my other senses much more than when�well, than I did before I came here. Every moment I must be alert. But I hunt too. That is when I enjoy myself, when I forget things. I suppose that is why we are here. It is all we can do, and we enjoy it. Perhaps we enjoy it too much. Wait! Faintly I hear the sounds of a fight. Careful not to lose the direction I gather my things. There is not much, a knife, my cloak and a battered breastplate. The noise is muffled, barely audible but after dread silence for days it rings loudly in my ears. I run towards it with a long, loping stride which I can keep up for hours. I try not to think about what I may find. Try not to get my expectations up. A good kill would put me back on track, back at the top of the order. I shudder to think of my last encounter, over a month ago. I barely escaped, and I lost all my equipment. Shield, spear, sword and armour all lost. Lost to some upstart who has only just arrived here. But he�s good. Very good. He�ll do well. Until I find him again, when I�m ready. I run through the impenetrable murk until I stumble on something. It can only be one thing in this bare landscape. A body. One half of what I am looking for. I look him over but he has already been stripped by his opponent. Looking around I see it was hard fought; the other man must be wounded. Badly. I smile. Bending down I gasp as I recognise the dead man. Grimly I straighten up and continue. A trail of scarlet leads the way. I can here him not far away. He stumbles and falls. I am upon him. But I do not kill him, not yet. This must be done properly for the man back there. I will be patient, wait until he is healed. Then we will fight.
                For weeks I do nothing but dress his wounds. I leave his helmet on; I do not want to see his face. He is easier to hate that way. As he gets better he struggles against his bonds, nearly breaks them. He is strong, I�ll remember that. For later. As he recovers we talk. We have seen some of the same things it seems, fought on the same side. He keeps it vague though, respecting my wish for anonymity. We reminisce of battles we have fought and become almost friends. This is a pity. Something there can be none of later. Certainly he is the best friend I have had since I � came here. One day he is well again. It is time.
               I return to him his equipment. I strap on my rusting, decrepit armour and pick up my knife. He apologises, thinking his equipment assures his victory. He is wrong. Flashing forward I attack him mercilessly. He defends. I test him, he tests me. Back and forth we go. I know I can beat him. I know his style. It is a pale imitation of mine. Stepping back I pretend to stumble. He is on me. Smashing aside his sword I plunge my knife into his belly. But somehow he has got his sword in the way. He clubs me with his shield. Barely conscious I pummel his stomach and stagger away to gain time. He�s better than I thought. Leaping towards me he presses his advantage. He is overconfident. Using his shield as a springboard I bound over his head and jam my knife into the small of his back. Roaring with pain he swings blindly at me, but my only weapon in embedded in his back. Sidestepping a wild thrust I grab his sword arm and trip him. He lands heavily pushing the knife further into him. He screams but catches me with his sword as he goes down. Hissing I snatch the sword from him and end it. My father is avenged.
                I drop to my knees, blinking rapidly to try and stay conscious. I tear the helmet from his head. Again I gasp with recognition. Patroclus dear cousin, you never learned your lessons well enough. I cry. The futility of it hits me. No more enjoyment will I find here. I cry for all those I have killed here and � before. Hector, Xerxes, Gawain, Antony, Bellerophon, Perseus. Many, many more. I cry, alone in the dark. Hell is for heroes.
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