Reincarnated in a depressing erotic world but living a normal life (right?)
The Blood of the Arena

The air in the Possession Arena was dense, heavy with the smell of sweat, blood, and a sickening anticipation that you could almost touch. The harsh lights of the gigantic underground stadium pierced down onto a central circle. In the middle of the arena, a man and a woman were tearing each other apart. Their bodies, already marked by impact and blade, moved with unheard-of ferocity. What was truly disturbing wasn't the brutality of their blows, but the crazed smiles disfiguring their faces. These weren't empty expressions; they were the reflection of the depravity of those who now controlled them.

Both the man and the woman had been a couple. A harmonious and loving couple, known to all for their union. However, now they were possessed. Those who had used the possession drug to usurp their bodies were lunatic beings, gathered in this place for entertainment. They threw blows with brutal force, seeking the annihilation of the other, caring not in the slightest about the fate of those fleshly husks they used. Pity was nonexistent; only an alien and perverse will drove their muscles, transforming what were once two lovers into puppets for a sadistic spectacle. If the body died, they simply abandoned it to seek another, or returned to their true bodies without consequences for themselves.

Blair watched the scene from the side of the pit, her stomach tightening. The sound of dry impacts, choked gasps, and those insane smiles were a horrible premonition of what awaited her and her group. It wasn't just the physical violence; it was the desecration, the perversion of what those bodies had once been. She saw the man, the "boyfriend," deliver the final blow. The woman fell to the ground, inert, her smile petrified in a macabre rictus.

"Kgh..."

Blair gritted her teeth, resisting the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. That was the Arena. That was what she would have to face. She and her team had already signed up; their combat would be next. This was the price, the only way to get what they needed.

Among the crowd, Evianne Vivienne moved cautiously, blending in with the spectators. Her normally expressive face now wore a mask of apathy, feigning the lack of will of a possessed body. It was her contingency plan, a way to secure a possible escape route if things got complicated. Her discreet presence was a silent promise of support if Blair and the others needed it.

As Blair analyzed the contenders and the arena's layout, a subtle vibration in a small device hidden in her clothes indicated that she had received information. "Trickstar," the alias of one of her teammates, operated from afar, her usual shyness transformed into digital audacity. An IT genius, "Trickstar" had dedicated herself to hacking the arena's systems, searching for any relevant data about their opponents. The information flowed discreetly, offering Blair a crucial advantage before entering combat.

The Arena revealed itself as a massive pit, a scar in the earth, surrounded by stands teeming with shadowy figures, thirsty for more brutality. Blair looked up. At the very top, in a luxurious seat overlooking the entire arena, sat the current champion of the Possession Arena. She was an elegant-looking woman, with silver hair that gleamed under the lights and piercing red eyes that watched the arena with annoyance.

"Fssss... Haa... What a bother."

She smoked with apathy, exhaling slow puffs of smoke, while a subordinate, dressed in an impeccable maid outfit – a young woman with dyed blonde hair with pink streaks and multiple piercings, wearing a tight collar around her neck – attended to her diligently. Blair remembered the name "Trickstar" had provided her.

"So she's Lilith..."

Lilith. A monster, according to the information, who had crushed all her opponents with overwhelming violence. No one had managed to dethrone her since her arrival. She was known for the way her contenders' blood splattered every corner of the arena during her fights.

After giving the champion one last look, Blair slapped her cheeks hard, forcing herself to display a deranged smile, the mask she needed to avoid being discovered. She got up from her seat and walked with apparent confidence towards the arena entrance for her fight. Upon reaching the center, her blood ran cold when she saw her opponent: a small girl wielding a blood-stained knife. The girl smiled twistedly, her eyes gleaming with adult malice.

"Kihihihi, I wonder what your blood will taste like!" she said in a high-pitched, perverse voice.

Blair gathered all her strength to maintain her fake sadistic smile, hiding the despair that overwhelmed her at what she was about to be forced to do. She focused her will, remembering why she was there, why she had to do this.

"It'll be your blood you taste!"

She replied with a voice she tried to make sound as demented as her opponent's. Mentally, a cold resolution settled within her: once she freed her family, she would ensure she paid for her actions, sending herself to hell with no possibility of forgiveness.

In that manner, both ran towards each other. The metallic gleam of the knives cut through the air, and blood began to fly.

The ecstatic screams of the crowd filled the space, a chorus of delight at the carnage. To one side, Evianne closed her eyes, unable to watch the scene. When the echo of the fight faded, the only thing left on the ground was the motionless body of a small girl. Blair remained standing, her chest heaving, as a silent, tearing scream was suppressed in her throat. Blood flowed endlessly from her lips, but she forced them shut, drowning her pain in silence.