Agression

Running wasn't an option. He'd just die a coward. So John bared his teeth and took an aggressive step forward. He clenched his massive fists and suddenly felt a hot, almost sickening anger fill his soul. It was alien and yet strangely familiar at once.

The Cenobite smiled, showing her blood streaked teeth. "Child, you are not the first to mask your fear with anger. But fear not, in the end all gives way to suffering," she said.

The anger continued to build inside of him, growing into an insatiable, murderous rage.

"I'm not afraid," he growled, stepping forward to within a few yards of her, his towering stature at least a full eight inches taller than her own.

With a whizz, one of the spinning blades came at him. He sidestepped just in time. It nicked his left arm but he hardly felt it. Another one came, this time faster than the first. It sliced into his shoulder, spinning and wheeling, tearing muscle and tendon with ease. He let out a cry of pain and immediately wrapped a beefy fist around it. The razor sharp blade tore into his palm with equal ease, but stopped spinning as he clenched hard around it. The pesky thing crumpled in his hand and he tossed it aside.

"Your anger makes you powerful, child. Perhaps powerful enough to stand against a single Cenobite. But we are legion. And soon enough, Alistair will learn of your uprising. And what he does to you will echo throughout the whole of Labyrinth!" she said as he turned back towards her.

The last blade came flying and this time he backhanded it. It sliced open his hand but went flying nonetheless, lodging itself into the nearby wall. In an instant his other hand was wrapped around her throat. And before she could utter another word, he brought his fingers together until they met. Her neck crumpled and snapped. Her body went stiff and then limp. He tossed the lifeless shell to the ground as the anger that fueled him suddenly dwindled.

He stepped back and only then realized just how badly she had injured him. He was bleeding out from his shoulder and his hands were a mess. Blood ran down his arm and was quickly pooling on the ground. As he groped at his shoulder, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, he saw a blue light envelop the Cenobite. When it fadded, the wicked, tortured creature was replaced by the limp, frail body of a blond haired human girl. The expression frozen into her cold dead features was that of **** sadness.

John fell to his knees; half from blood loss, half from the realization that all Cenobites were once human. He'd killed a human girl.

"Maybe... maybe I do belong here," he rasped through parched lips.

He fell forward, palms to the ground, leaving a pair of blood caked hand prints. He should have fallen over then and there and lost consciousness but the bleeding had stopped.