Seeing him fall from the sky, I felt somewhat happy while dashing forward and began to hit everything I could feel around me.
But soon I felt that everything just blacked out, and I was hitting nothing but thin air. I couldn't feel anything around me, as if everything had just vanished from my sight, and I was just left with empty space, feeling it weird. I tried to look around because blood lust can't have any effects if there is nothing to bleed, and now there was nothing that I could make bleed, so I was feeling a strange kind of emptiness. Despite my thirst for slaughter, I couldn't find anything to make bleed.
The anger of frustration started to rise in my heart, the strange frustration that I had never felt in my entire life, the frustration that was swallowing my entire life right before me.
Feeling no blood around, my body started to ache in need of blood, and while swinging my bat around, I felt that something was dripping from my fingers, something warm and full of life that could satisfy this frustration. It was 'MY OWN BLOOD!' that was giving me hope in such dense frustration; these wounds might be from when I was trying to lift the seals from Antak and others.
And now due to swinging my bat, those wounds must have again opened.
But it was pretty strangely comforting that my blood was this warm and beautiful, and it was feeling way too comforting that i stopped swinging my bat and brought my fingers closer to me and saw that the blood was gushing out at real good pace but instead of hurting, it was looking way too beautiful and a thirst began to rise in me: 'what will my own blood taste like?'
Hearing my own words, I was feeling pretty crazy, but the blood was feeling way too tempting, so I brought it closer to my lips and began to sniff it.
The scent of my own blood was so astonishing that even I was left in wonder: Did I really taste this good, or is it my own pain that was feeling something familiar to me?
And to find my answer, I began licking it, and to my lust for blood, it was more like a taste that could end the years of starvation.
So after taking a taste, I felt that this was something that I needed more and more, but the source of this blood was way too small, and I couldn't just lick it all the time; I had to make it much wider, or it might stop giving me such a good taste.
So feeling the insecurity that it might stop, I started rubbing my hands on the rough surface of the bat, causing the skin to be torn more and more, causing the blood to cover the entire bat.
Seeing such an amount of blood, I was so astonished that I began to lick it like an animal, but instead of declining, the lust for blood kept rising in my heart; no amount was satisfying me. The more I rubbed my hand on it, the more blood covered the bat, but still my hunger kept rising for more blood!
And the pain of such injuries started to feel more like a crunch in my sweet, tender blood. But as I was drinking blood, I saw that the space wasn't that empty anymore.
I could see my many images around me that were looking at me in disgust and laughing at me.
Getting devoured by my own blood lust, I felt that they were here to feast on my food, so I began covering my wounds against my chest while swinging my bat around and screaming like a mad dog: 'What are you all looking at, you dogs? better get your own food before even thinking about taking mine!'
Hearing my words, the noises of laughter began to echo in my entire head. Feeling it strangely disturbing, i again started to lick my wounds like a wounded beast but the blood wasn't coming out and finding it frustrating, i began to tighten my grip on my bat and thought, 'what will happen if i just make the hole bigger, so that it won't ever stop and i can just lick it entire time!'
So just as I was about to hit myself, I heard a voice from inside: 'So you find your own blood tasty, huh? But how can you call it tasty when you haven't even tasted your enemies' blood? How can you claim that your blood tastes best when you haven't drunk the blood of those who dared to stand in your way? How can you even think about declaring yourself best before slaughtering everyone around you?'
Hearing these words, I felt just how dumb I was. "When I hadn't even drunk the blood of those who are laughing at me, nor had I drunk the blood of the creeps who dared to throw me in such deep shit, so how can I be satisfied by my own blood when I haven't even tasted their blood!"
Feeling these thoughts, I swung my bat to the head of that first creep who was looking way too much like me and was making that most disgusted face.
The moment my bat touched his face, I again felt that it hit something and it was leaking something warm and beautiful, feeling the energy of the same lust. My laughs started to become much more manic, and my attacks much more ruthless. Crushing the bastards that were looking like me was one of the best feelings in the world—to crush our own selves to death.
Feeling such a wonderful feeling, I realized that my blood surely tastes good, but it can't be compared to the blood of the creeps who had the nerve to stand in my way.
So the game of slaughter again rose in me; my movements again became as sharp as a wounded beast. The floor was covered with their blood, and a feeling of satisfaction was covering my heart, and now I was feeling much more alive, and then I again heard the laugh of the same creep, who jumped above me and crushed me to the ground and started speaking in the same maniacal tone: 'Brat, you're still sharp as always; you know how to pull your own shit. But seriously, creep, look at the mess you made of this place!'