Nightmare Tournament:

If there was one thing Matthew hated more than anything, it was that neither Jester nor his conscience had a decent sense of direction.

“Where are we exactly?” Matthew spoke out, gazing around.  “All of these trees look the same...”

And indeed they did.  For miles and miles there was nothing but forest in every direction.  Rows upon rows of thick foliage, with winding paths that only ever seemed to take you back to where you started, wherever that was.  It’s not like you’d know, because as far as landmarks went, there weren’t any.

Matthew wondered how it was even possible that such a place could exist anymore.  Twenty years ago, maybe, but with the constant need for more and more building supplies, it seemed like there couldn’t be groups of more than one hundred trees in a single place.  His musings were interrupted when a sound came from the bushes.

“Hm?” Matthew noticed.  “Who’s there?”

And out came some girl.  She was wearing clothing that seemed like she should be at a party, not stuck in the middle of a nature based labyrinth.  She seemed completely oblivious to that fact, and yelled out to his body with heavy breaths.

“Ya gotta help me sir!” she panted.  “Someone’s in trouble!”

Matthew immediately didn’t trust her.  Maybe it was the way she was dressed, or maybe he was just an asshole.  Or maybe it was because of the convenient sequence of events leading up to it that Jester and his conscience seemed oblivious to.   Some crazy blond girl who seemed too interested in his neck and that weird little kid she was with who told them that there was a shortcut to town through the forest.  Oh, and let’s not forget the random scythe in the road.

His conscience however, still remained as overly kind as ever.  Pulling out his gun, he chased the girl, Bonnie was her name, into the forest, all the while having an amusing argument with Jester as to whether or not waste the time and just kill her for kicks.

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The duo (or foursome, as it were), eventually arrived into a small clearing.  Matthew, taking the opportunity to survey the situation, stepped forward.

“Keh heh heh...” a voice laughed, “‘Ello there stranger.”

Now Matthew’s full attention was on the owner of the voice.  A man in a pinstripe suit.  Before even being able to mentally comment on the fact that there was a guy with an immaculately kept suit in the middle of a forest, he just so happened to notice the immediate threat that the man’s shotgun posed.

His conscience seemed to notice it to.  “Who are you?” he questioned, raising the gun to the stranger as some kind of feeble threat.

Like the pussy’d ever go through with it.

“Name’s Clyde.” The stranger answered.

“Who’s in trouble?” Matthew started to relax, thinking now that Clyde must be a friend.

He didn’t even notice his ‘friend’ grabbing hold of a rather large club.  Matthew almost wanted to laugh.  Bonnie and Clyde.  How f’ing adorable.

“Why,” Bonnie whispered, raising the club to Matthew’s head, “You are.”

“Can we kill them now?” Jester whispered within Matthew’s head.  Though he couldn’t voice his opinion, Matthew, for once, agreed with Jester.

His annoying conscience still remained disillusioned though.  “Maybe... we can work it out...” Matthew spoke out to the malevolent entity.

“Even though they’re shades?”

“What?”

“Shades are the dark forms of human beings, all of their evil put into a single form to go and wreak havoc.  They’re ... sorta like... me.” Jester laughed, watching Matthew cringe.

Matthew knew that that would get his conscience where it hurt.  He was right.

Matthew’s left hand dropped to his belt, reaching for a vial.  “I guess then you wouldn’t mind dealing with them then.”

“Now you’re talking!”  Jester’s glee was incredible; he had been waiting for his ‘fun time’ for days, and was getting cranky that he wasn’t getting his weekly killing spree.

Just as Matthew’s hand grasped the vial, another party spoke out.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not?” Matthew asked looking up to the source of the disturbance.

That was a demon if Matthew had ever seen one.  Blood red hair, dark grey skin, and that smile, god that smile freaked Matthew out something fierce.

“It would be a shame if you were to die before you could play my game...” The monster answered.

Nightmare.  His name was Nightmare.  Matthew didn’t know how he knew, but he did.  But today was a day of surprises, as Matthew’s timid conscience spoke out against the creature.

“And what if I don’t want to play your g-” Matthew’s stand was immediately put down as dark energies formed above him.  “-ame?”

Matthew only heard one thing as the energies just started reaching his body; Nightmare simply stating: “Too bad”

And so we move on towards death, Matthew thought, in the cooling twilight.
Then the blackness hit him.

Then nothing was left.

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Matthew next awoke in a black oblivion.  Rubbing exhaustion out of his eyes, he looked up and saw eight swirling gateways, each with a name of some location or another; The Sinkhole, Bishop’s Gate, Fury’s Mansion, The Toy Factory, The Clock tower, The Island, The Cathedral, The Mines.  And then the oh so pleasant tell tale voice of Nightmare rang through his head.

“You are now part of my game.  You will be pitted against sixty three other lucky guests of my luxury world, where I’ll watch you all fight each other to the end through the twists and turns of my ‘playgrounds’.  If you win... maybe I’ll let you escape, maybe I’ll let you live.  Maybe not.  But imagine if I did!  Think of the possibilities!  I mean, think of what you could do if you weren’t dead!  You could...”

Matthew almost mentally deadpanned as Nightmare continued his speech, which was quickly becoming more annoying than intimidating.  Matthew shot back into reality just as Nightmare was giving some important life lesson about something or another.

“...And that’s why you never, ever-  Oh, pardon me, I’m afraid that I’ve been rambling on.  Just... choose your poison and let’s get started.”

Looking out to the abyss, only one thing came out of Matthew’s mouth to describe the thoughts going through his head.

“Damn.”