Grand Arch. of Piltover Entry- WARNING: Strong Themes of Violence and some Gore

Hi everyone, so I submitted a narrative entry into the Grand Archives of Piltover competition, and while I didn't win, I figured I'd still want to put it out here for people to check out. Note that it is modified a little to be smoother, as the 1000 word limit was... well, difficult, haha. It's essentially the backstory for an original champion :) I hope you enjoy!: A Word For Revenge *I should have gone with my family on a picnic today. We always went on Saturdays to the park as long as it didn’t rain and I wasn’t working. My son would have loved to play catch and the love of my life would watch. I should have gone to a picnic today in sunny Piltover, a city of dreams with Janice and Peter…* I tugged the chains shackled to my wrists and ankles. The smothering Zaunite smog made me cough incessantly. Polluted water dripped from the old stone ceiling. Where was I? *“You’ll be investigating a Zaunite gang called the Kari Mar,” Caitlyn told me, “They’re extremely dangerous and we simply cannot tolerate their repeated intrusions into Piltover.” “Sounds like nothing but a bunch of trouble makers to me,” I smirked. Vi gave me a fist bump with her oversized gauntlets. I called them the fists of ‘PD’… for Property Damage. I’d laugh if you thought that meant police department. “Do not underestimate them. If you get into trouble, we’ll send backup,” Caitlyn said. “Psh… who do you take me for? I’m the ace of Piltover’s covert ops.”* Backup was the word she used. I watched them bring in a barely conscious Peter, eyes swollen and hands and legs tied. My own eyes widened. “What did you do to him!” I could barely hear my own screams. Too much blood rushed to my ears. *“Does it hurt?” I asked him. My son looked up at me with a whimper. He missed the ball and it gave him quite a whack on the nose. He nodded. I took my sleeve and wiped the blood that dripped from his nostrils. Janice ran over with this worried look on her face.* They brought in my wife, clothes torn and disheveled. Janice stared blankly at the ground with dried tears and a shattered look on her face. “He wouldn’t shut up while he watched and… your wife? Well, we figured we’d take her for her final ride,” the gang member snickered. I charged them straining against the chains. My wife was beyond sobbing. It was as if she was no longer... there. My wrist began to bleed from the digging metal. Suddenly, a whip wrapped around my neck and lashed me back onto the ground. *“Their names are Kaira and Cur, the most brutal of Zaun’s underworld bosses,” Caitlyn showed me their files. One male, one female. “What’s with the K sounds here,” I scanned their profiles, “I’ll be sure to give them new named. Kicked and…” “Ass doesn’t start with a K,” Vi said. “You’re right,” I sighed. “Good try. A for effort,” another fistbump.* A sinister grin curved across Kaira’s face. She tightened her whip and the barbs that lined the sturdy coil dug into my next. My wife continued to stare hopelessly at the ground in front of her. Cur opened the door to the dungeon, a rapier in one hand and an elaborately decorated pistol in the other. He looked at me with sympathy. “Janice, my dear,” he patted her cheek to stir her from her gaze. Her eyes slowly drifted to him. “Don’t yo- ACK,” the whip tightened further. I started to choke. *“He’s finally made some friends to play catch, huh?” I held Janice’s hand tenderly and smiled as Peter ran with the other boys. “Don’t you get all moody cause you no longer have a buddy to play catch with,” she pinched my cheek and laughed. “Oh please, we’ll still be able to play catch,” I looked at my wife in the eyes and kissed her, “Besides, I can’t really complain when I can accompany an angel instead.”* Cur handed the gun to her. “If you put a bullet in your head…” Cur said, taking his rapier and placing the tip on my son’s neck, “I’ll spare his li-” he didn’t finish his sentence before my wife shot herself. “Oh my…you wanted to die that badly. Well, enjoy the afterlife,” Cur chuckled. He looked at me with a mock pout. The world blurred and my mind snapped. Bones cracked as I cried out in pure agony. Flesh tore as my hand was dislocated then ripped from my body. Kaira stepped back in shock as I wrapped my freed arm around her whip and pulled her to me. I headbutted her, forcing her to let go and stagger backwards. Another gun shot. I refused to kneel. Another shot on my leg. A third on my stomach. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Cur shook his head as I finally fell to the ground, “How could you… After your wife sacrificed her life for your son. Now… you pay the price.” I yelled. I yelled until my throat was worn and raw as I watch my son fall to the ground, twitching, with a fresh slit on his throat, and a crimson halo forming around his head. Kaira kicked me to get me to stop. At this point, I had none of my voice left. No…that was wrong…none of my life left to give. There’s was no love left to my name. It was lost. All of it... “Backup…” I whispered inaudibly. That’s what they told me. “Hm?” Cur leaned closer to me. I didn’t answer. “I thought I heard final words somewhere in there…oh well, dump him.” I couldn't tell how much time has passed. I remember being left to bleed out in a back alley after being tortured for some time. The machine herald looked at me. “Who throws their trash out onto the streets?” he asked. More blood oozed from my body and I wheezed a cough. “I’ll…kill them… all. All of those wretched traitors and murderers,” I muttered. “Call me Viktor,” he said, offering me a hand. Rain fell from the skies and I couldn’t tell if the puddles were more blood or water. I didn’t care about pointless details like those anymore. They didn't matter. “I can see it in your eyes… you seek power… revenge,” he told me. “I want all of their heads… including heads of sunny Piltover,” I took his hand and coughed up some blood. “Why? Did they betray you too?” I nodded quietly. As Viktor lifted me up, he said, "Follow me... together, I can grant you the power you desire. But first, tell me, what is your name?" “I lost mine long ago…” I told him. We walked together, my arm slung over his shoulder. “Very well. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance… Sveta.” Important note: "Sveta" is derived from the Croatian word for revenge, "*osveta*"

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