Octagon Freak vs. Warsman

They were back again. The nightmares that had been haunting for the past few months. They were relentlessly realistic and frightening.The people, they were scared... They taunted and retaliated at nothing. They fought, and threw things, and they didn't even know what they were doing. They forced him into darkness; he had no other choice.

No one knows what it's like.To be the bad man. To be the sad man. No one knows what it's like. To be hated, to be fated to telling only lies. But my dreams, they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be...

No, my dreams aren't as empty as my conscience. They were filled with hatred, anger, and plots for revenge. But Octagon was better than that. He shot up and eyed the alarm clock. It was 11 o' clock, and he could already tell this was going to be another sleepless night. He rolled off of the dirty futon, and strode into the kitchen, the carpet bristles bending at his footsteps.

The cold tile floor froze his feet as he walked to the refrigerator. He opened it, and the old light bulb flickered on. The 'fridge was old and dirty all the time, but Octagon couldn't get his hands on much in this world. He grabbed the half-eaten sandwich from supper earlier, and sat at a make-shift table made from a box and a few, three-legged chairs. He munched on the sandwich sadly, as he thought about what he would do tomorrow.

He would be doing the same thing he always did. He would keep to himself in this old, abandonned apartment building. The contractors said "the foundation was shaky" but it was fine. They just wanted the owners of the apartment building to pay for a new one to be put up. At 11:10, the window crashed open in the kitchen, and Octagon saw a canister rolling around on the floor. It spun in circles and spewed forth an aweful green-grey smog. Another canister joined it, and together they quickly filled the room with green-grey smog. Octagon panicked, and couldn't concentrate on what was going on. Soon, all he saw was darkness, as he body slumped off his stool, the sandwich landing on the floor next to him.

I have hours, only lonely, my love is vengeance that's never free. No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings like I do. And I blame you. No one bites back as hard on their anger. None of my pain and woe can show through...


Soon, the darkness faded away, and Octagon awoke in a brightly lit room. The walls and floor and ceiling were all perfectly white. All accept for the wall to Octagon's right, which was occupied by a large mirror. Octagon looked aound him, and saw his gear laying in heaps. He quickly put it on, and positioned everything. The mirrored wall then spoke.

"Hello. You are being tested in a government, classified program to test both your abilities and your chances at being an applicant." Octagon listened to the cold, lifeless voice as it droned on, he and said quietly,

"Applicant? Wha..." Octagon was cut off by the voice again.

"You will be engaging in combat with the partner that the Facility has paired you with," it paused momentarily. "Attempt to leave this room will result in death. Failure to fight your partner will result in death. Attempting to break the mirrored wall will result in death," it paused again quickly, and then followed with, "Thank you for participating in this experiment. If you succede, you shall be granted your freedom. Thank you again, and good luck."

The machine stopped. It's voice had been annoying to Freak, and it's strange robotic emphasis on "In death," was nearly madening. But before Freak could think about it any more, his "partner" fell into the room, via an opening and closing magic hole in the ceiling. He landed with a dull thud, and began to wake up. Freak didn't want to waste any time, and ran for his target, forming to giant-sized fists of darkness around his own, and jumping up in the air, coming down with crushing force.

No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man, to be the sad man, to be the mad man, behind blue eyes.

Octagon slammed his fists into the ground with thunderous crash. The fists disapated, and Octagon saw that he hadn't even dented the floor. Octagon stood from his leaning postition, and saw really for the first time his frightening opponent. He was big, and ugly. Scars wrapped around his body like worms. The beast took a wobbly step forward, and threw a half-hearted right hook at Octagon.

Octagon watched the fist go by, as he simply side-stepped it. Then the ugly thing rubbed his head. Octagon could tell that this thing had had a much rougher time getting here than he had. Octagon looked at it as it stumbled, and struggled to keep it's footing. Octagon's pity faded as soon as he remembered "in death," and he formed a dagger of darkness in his hand.

Octagon had little trouble approching the creature, as it stumbled about. Octagon wasn't even sure that it had seen him coming. Octagon observed his opponent for a moment more, before raising the dagger high in the  air. He could feel the glass wall behind him watching. Playing its little games with them. Octagon then realized he's been holding the dagger in the air for far too long, and it was seeking, hungering for flesh and blood. Octagon wasted no more time, and guided the dagger straight for the meat that it wanted, right in the back.

Octagon's blade sunk into heavy flesh, and the engeries dug and bit around. The strange creature threw a punch at Octagon, and the force caused him to lose his footing, and stumble back. The creature reached a hulking arm around and tried to snatch the dagger from his shoulderblade. But Octagon swayed the blad handle back and forth so that he could not. Octagon could tell that the pain was awakening the beast from his dizzy slumber, so he kept his distance. Octagon continued to move the dagger from reach, toying with the beast, when suddenly, it spoke.

"Who the hell are you and why are you trying to kill me?"  Octagon had not expected this creature to be able to talk. In his surprise, he almost forgot how to speak himself. The beast's cold, piercing voice broke Octagon's concentration, and the dagger faded away. He studdered at first, but then collected himself, and said,

"You can speak? I had thought you were simply a mindless beast meant to test me in battle," Octagon eyed the creature, his white eyes piercing through the darkness in his cowl. Then it occured to Octagon that the creature had not been conscious when the annoying machine had played it's message. "You don't know why you're here, do you?" Octagon asked. And as the last word slipped from his cowl, a loud buzzer rang, and the room turned red momentarily.

"Inactivity! Move around more!" The wall said. Hearing the message, Octagon formed some throwing knives in front of him, and hurled them towards his opponent.

Octagon saw his tactic of staggering the knives had worked. The disctractoin wave went by as planned, and the second wave sunk into the beast's thickened skin.

Angered, the beast grabbed the knives, and tossed them, and they disapeared before they ever hit the ground. The beast teleported behind Octagon, hands threatening a choke. He said something, and appeared before Octagon, landing a low uppercut.

Octagon acended, and then flew back a few feet before landing on his belly. His armor absorbed most of the blow, but the pain still lingered. Octagon looked up at the giant, and said,

"Well, the wall over there wants us to fight. I don't know why, but if we don't the wall will apparently kill us. So either one of us kills the other, or.....," he lowered his voice so that the wall couldn't hear him, "we find a way to get out of here and destroy the wall..."

Octagon looked at the mad man, as he was lifted into the air up against the wall. He teleported away, and started to say something interesting,

"We continue to fight each other for a while, lead It into believing we're about to kill each other and then---" the man was cut off as a turret shot a laser out in warning. The machine spoke again, more annoying than ever. It wanted them to fight more, and talk less. Well, Octagon could do that if his opponent could. They would just have to find another way to communicate.

Warsman then attacked in a flurry of punches and kicks, which Octagon suffered the wrath of. His suit kept him together, but each blow was more painful than the last. Octagon rolled to his feet, and was about to attack when the room buzzed, and five platforms of different heights came up from the floor. Octagon stood on the lowest platform, but soon teleported to the center, and highest platform. He charged an energy ball, and hurled it as his opponent with deadly force.

Then he backed off-center of the platform he was on, and formed a sword in each hand, waiting for his opponent.

Octagon stood waiting, when Warsman came suddenly, and attacked, but Octagon jumped back, barely missing the attack. Just as Octagon was about to attack, a few sprinklers sprouted from the ceiling, and the lights dimmed. The wall was simulating a late-night storm. 

"Okay, I've just about had it with this test!!!" Octagon shouted in anger. He turned to face the wall, when a fist put Octagon to the floor. He looked up dizzily, and heard Warsman say, 

"We break down the glass, kill whoever's doing this, and escape. Then we fight outside of controlled conditions."

Octagon looked up as his opponent disappeared again. He pulled himself up, and found his opponent crouching on a mid-level platform. The rain poured down, and drained into the holes where the platforms had raised. A crack of thunder, and a flash of light appeared. Freak shielded his eyes, and thought to himself,

"Now they're trying to distract us with loud noises and bright lights? This is complete bullshit...."

The rain made Octagon's cowl heavy, but he tried to ignore it. The rain was kind of nice actually, because he's worked up some heat roughhousing with Warsman, and it was a welcomed oppurtunity to calm down. Octagon then ran toward the edge of the platform, and hurled an engergy ball at Warsman, and then teleported in a flurry of energy attacks and waves from all angles. Then Octagon teleported himself to the platform right across from Warsman's, and watched the darkness fly around him.

Octagon flipped around with the man in air for awhile, while they struggled to gain leverage on one another. Warsman fell back to his platform of choice, as did Freak. Then the platforms all changed levels again, and the floor erupted into a fine sediment, and the room lit up like a Christmas tree.

Octagon shielded his eyes from the light, and stepped of the platform, and walked into the sandy substance.

"What is this?! A F@&king day at the beach?!" Octagon shouted, enraged. His vision was coming back to him, and he could see Warsman was also having difficulties adjusting to the light. Octagon teleported over to him, and put him in a fake choke hold, and leaned his head in close to Warsman's ear.

"Listen, we'll never be able to fight under these kinds of conditions. This is crazy, and that wall is going to kill us before we can even finish this. Let's say we bust outta here? I'll even let you make the call..." Octagon was still pretending to strangle his opponent, and had his back turned to the wall, so it would never know the difference.

Octagon listened to what his opponent had to say, and then Warsman attacked him, but Octagon could tell that he was pulling his punches. The room was wet and cold now, and the two were still going at it, and Warsman was talking empty trash talk.

Warsman leaned in, and said,

"I'm going to throw you into the wall!"  And with that, Warsman picked up Octagon and tossed him toward the wall. Octagon flew at soaring speeds, and braced his face with his arms before the impact. The glass shattered, but there was a problem. The mirror had been a fake, and a brick wall was hidden beneath it. Octagon crashed into it, and fell to the floor in a daze.

The room flashed a dark red. The platforms sunk back down to be level with the floor. The sediment was pulled away by a vaccum system, and the rain stopped.

"You were warned. You were told not to break the glass. You were told it would result in death....," there it was again, that strange, robotic emphasis on "in death." The voice now crackled over a speaker system, and the room remained in its red hue.

Drones popped up from the ceiling and floors and walls. They all targeted Octagon and Warsman with lasers and rockets. But Octagon didn't know it, because the impact had rendered him unconscious.

Octagon's vision slowly returned as he pulled his head off the ground. He looked around, and saw a white room, with white walls, floor, and ceiling. And there was a big mirror too. It was much better than the last room.

Wait. It was the last room. Almost exactly the same room. Octagon was guessing that the process would start over now, and this place probably had a myriad of rooms just like this in everydirection. He tried to make it look like he was still knocked out, but shifted his head slightly, and said,

"What if we make it look like you killed me? If you win, maybe they'll show us the way out of here..," Octagon saide in a low tone.

Octagon was fully awake, and was ready to let the computer know it. He stood to his feet, and shook off his weariness. He looked over at the mirror in disgust, and then looked over at his opponent. He teleported up close, and kneed the giant in the gut, and whispered,

"Oh yeah, I've got a plan." With that, Octagon teleported around, unleashing a flurry of attacks that were mostly for show, but still moved Warsman around a little bit. Octagon continued to fight, while he thought about his next move, and then it came to him suddenly. He landed in front of Warsman and yelled angrily,

"Come on. HIT ME!!!!!!! I DARE YOU!!!!" Octagon shouted so loud, his voice quivered slightly. And as Warsman came closer, he was about to attack, when Octagon flashed a black wave that filled the room, masking the attack from the wall.

"I wasn't aware that the wall had such good hearing," Octagon choked out. Then he teleported away from him, and recovered from the assult. He then stood, and watched Warsman. He was finished playing around with him. He was literally going to have to piss off the cyborg in order for the plan to work. The wall would be able to spot any further acting or conspiracy.

Octagon lunged forward, sending an energy wave out ahead of him, and then forming two daggers in his hands, and appeared in front of the beast, and aimed his daggers for the chest.

After that little stunt, Octagon backed off, and hurled grenade like energy orbs all over Warsman's side of the room

"I really hope he doesn't kill me for this," Octagon thought to himself.

The knives came flying back at Octagon, but he waved them aside, and they disappated.

Octagon saw his opponent stumble out of the smoke, and try to attack him. Octagon wanted to dodge this blurry-eyed attack, but if his plan was going to work, he would need to take as many hits as possible. He stepped into his opponent's grasp, and let him attack.

The wall didn't seem to notice what Freak was up to, and some rocks jutted up from the floor.

The knives came flying back at Octagon, but he waved them aside, and they disappated.

Octagon saw his opponent stumble out of the smoke, and try to attack him. Octagon wanted to dodge this blurry-eyed attack, but if his plan was going to work, he would need to take as many hits as possible. He stepped into his opponent's grasp, and let him attack.

The wall didn't seem to notice what Freak was up to, and some rocks jutted up from the floor.

Octagon had made the sleeping giant angry. It had awoken, and had blindly rushed his way into Octagon. Warsman pinned Octagon to the glass wall. His back slid up the wall smoothly, with a squeaking noise. Octagon looked into the beast's eyes. They had lost all compassion, they were as cold as steel, and just as hard. They pierced through his skull, and straight into his mind.

Warsman's forearm was laying across Octagon's throat, pinning his windpipe closed. The world around him was fading to black, and the white room disappeared behind Warsman. Then only his glare was left in Octagon's field of vision. As soon as Octagon thought he was going to fade out forever, he dropped suddenly to the floor.

He had gained enough strength to look up at Warsman. He glared down on him with a different pair of eyes. They were aware. Octagon could sense that Warsman knew that something was up. He knew something that would lead them out.

"What are you DOING?! Finish him off! You'll be victorious, and have your freedom again! KILL HIM!!!! KILL HIM!!!!!!!!" the machine babbled on and on. Freak glanced up at Warsman, and whispered,

"Do it."