“Rip and Tear until it is done.” - Wild man from the sewers.

  *****

  The days swam together but now they were exciting in a way previously lacked. Fighting. It sang to me, unlike anything else. It was a way and form of improvement denied to me for so long. What use was fighting when you were weaker than a child? Who would you even fight?

  But now! Now I could. I’d stockpiled meat too. My hole was too small, so I’d begun clawing and clawing at it with my fingernails. The rock was tough but my fingernails and fingers would heal, it wouldn’t. In a few more months, I might even be comfortable.

  In the meantime, I’d begun devouring meat. Fighting was exhausting but I could feel it flowing through me. Knowledge, experience, skill. The smaller rats needed to be attacked a certain way, they would attack a certain way, and my fists knew where and how to hit.

  A kick here, a punch there, a throw, a stomp, it was almost amusingly fun to fight the smaller rats. But they were no challenge. They were just annoyances between me and the real enemy. I still avoided the bigger groups because strength could only do so much against numbers, but I ruthlessly hunted down the bigger rats.

  Most were the same I’d fought before. But a few…

  [7]

  It was night and day between now and my first fight. For starters, at some point I began to actually be able to see them move. For the next, tearing out throats with my sharpened teeth was no longer nearly impossibly difficult.

  I didn’t hesitate, blinding it, tackling it, and trying to rip out its throat. It flailed, it kicked, it clawed and bit. But I was Mutai. I was a Warrior! And I wasn’t going to die here. I gripped its body close and bit and tore. But I ended up far too wounded from it. To the point I had to take it easy for over a week after a single fight.

  The water area was still deathly worrying and once, I’d even heard a croak. I had run with all my speed without looking back and heard nothing following me, but the fear had been real.

  This wasn’t tenable. It was a miracle I’d survived the sickness and it was a miracle the toadman hadn’t returned and ran into me. I needed some way to store the water. Easier said than done. All I had were half eaten rat corpses.

  But the things you’ll do in the name of survival, they’re gruesome.

  A hollowed and ripped open rat… technically could contain water.

  It wasn’t the only tool I made use of. My hair had begun getting too long and in the way. It was already grimy enough, it needed to go. A lot of trial and error with rat bones and claws finally saw it coming off. I stared at my dark hair coming off in chunks and pieces. The water wasn’t nearly reflective enough but I did my best.

  I’d also had the bright idea to start trying to use the tools to better dig out the hole. It made too much noise. A pity. But oh well, what can you do?

  I fought. More and more. Energy and vigor filled me. But I had to improve my ability to limit damage. Which was easier said than done. The only way I could properly fight was to bite their necks through to cause them to bleed out.

  Or was it?

  The days all blended together but today, I decided I would try something new.

  *****

  It took a while but I found a [6] rat. I had to search farther for them and dodge not one but two hordes of rats. That was a worrying development to find. I had no idea what they were eating besides each other. Well, if there was anything else, I hadn’t run into it yet.

  This time, I fought differently. I still blinded and ambushed it but I didn’t tackle it this time. I focused and punched. I was cautious, my aggression was great but I reined it in. My punches slammed into its face over and over, dazing it, but doing no real damage.

  It squeaked and yelled but I merely grinned and kept going. A dodge, a kick, a roll, but always punch after punch, backtracking along the walkway. It always came at me, squeaking in rage. But I didn’t stop. Not even when I heard more squeaks coming.

  What finally showed up first was a small group of five and not a horde, thankfully. But I finally got to see something I hadn’t before. The enemy rats didn’t rush to help their fellow, they attacked us both. I’d seen rats fight each other but never a smaller group go after a bigger one.

  That only left two for me to deal with and they were dead quickly, only being [3] and [4]. The rat for its end didn’t take long to tear its fellow brethren apart either. There was a brief moment of pause, as we both stood among corpses, and glared at each other. Well, it glared and I grinned like a lunatic. I couldn’t help it. Every fight was fun and new now. Perhaps I’d gone insane down here but then again, none of the battles felt like I was going to die.

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  Even now, I knew I was going to win.

  It rushed and I rained more blows into its face, only barely managing not to lose a finger, and constantly having to dodge and move to not be hurt. Once I even had to shove it into the water and do a palm strike for breathing room but always we fought. Another two groups ambushed us but neither were any threat.

  As the minutes ticked by, it slowed.

  And it slowed.

  More and more.

  It was getting tired, which baffled me. I was tired, sure, but not exhausted. It was stronger, it had better everything than me. How was it tiring out more quickly? The thought plagued my mind as it lunged, tried to tackle me, bit at my legs, and clawed at me.

  Finally, it clicked.

  “You’ve never been pushed this far have you?”

  My voice felt rusty and broken, coming out strangely hoarse through my broken teeth. I even nearly cut my tongue. But it was true. This rat had more endurance but that didn’t mean it could use it all. It also didn’t know how to conserve its stamina. It was going all out, trying to hunt and kill and survive, and it was dooming it. Humans were stronger than they knew and I guess so were rats. This might be the most tired it had ever been.

  I laughed, letting my joy ring out. There was no use being too silent in fights, I’d already made too much noise in every single one I’d fought.

  I continued and finally, it stopped, panting, dazed from my blows.

  Then came a part of the fight I didn’t enjoy.

  I punched and punched and punched and-

  Stopped.

  Everything in my body froze all at once as I thought about what I was doing and why. I had won the fight. I wasn’t hungry. It… my pupils shook.

  It wasn’t a threat to me.

  The other rats, they could’ve gotten in the way. They made my fight more dangerous. They had to go. They had to die. But this one… there was no more fight. I’d won. I was just killing it because… it would kill me? It was dangerous?

  I didn’t need to kill it.

  I was stronger than it.

  I had won the fight.

  Something in me broke open. A sound like steam and a groan escaped my mouth, as a mix of feelings unlike any other arose within me.

  I was stronger. I’d won. I didn’t need to kill it. I had won without killing. I could let it live.

  Those, none of those had ever been real options before. It was kill or be killed and now, and now! Here I was, seeking a fight, finding it, and winning! All without needing to kill anything!

  Tears streamed from my eyes.

  I was feeling so much.

  Joy, relief, shock, pride. I had won. I had truly won. It was no longer just a desperate scramble for survival. I had grown strong enough to decide, to choose, to seek and fight, and to let go if I wanted to. Death, death was now only an option.

  That kind of power, that kind of choice, it floored me.

  “Ha…ha….hahaha!”

  I stared at the stone ceiling, letting my emotions roll over me. I don’t know how long I stood there, experiencing the shock and awe, but I was broken out of it as I heard the sound of claws on stone. The rat had begun to stand.

  I could kill it. I could.

  But what would be the point?

  I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t like killing. It was gruesome and gross and reminded me of the worst parts of my family's lives. The day they were all taken away. The look in the rat’s eyes was always the same way my mother’s was. That emptiness, the look of the soul leaving the body, I truly hated it. It hurt me every time but I’d grown numb to it now.

  But it didn’t need to be that way anymore.

  Killing gained me nothing. Not anymore. Not from this rat.

  How hadn’t I realized this earlier? Fighting… fighting without having to kill was the best. Not only that, but it was grossly overpowering. A warrior held life and death in their hands. Not just death. Could I even call myself a true warrior, if I wasn’t strong enough to survive without killing?

  I laughed out loud again and punched the rat in the head. It fell, knocked out.

  I stretched, feeling lighter than air.

  Death would come. I’d be forced to kill things too strong for me to survive without doing so. I also still needed to eat. Survival of the fittest after all.

  But I had choice now.

  It was like the sweetest of elixirs. I hadn’t felt this good since I’d been in a healing tank.

  And not only that! I’d won with my fists without taking any damage! I barely even felt that tired. This, this! Now this was winning! I’d won in every way that counted, in every way that mattered, in every way that a warrior could!

  It was intoxicating, being this strong!

  “Come on you rats! Fight me! Come one, come all! I’ll show you how strong this Mutai is!”

  I ran, sprinting down the tunnels. I needed to find more! More rats to fight! More rats to win against!

  Not in a desperate scramble for survival, but as a true warrior!

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