[Jacob]

A sinister laugh came from the Matador. The Paramite had been slain, three of its legs ripped off as it was still alive, its face tendrils torn. The arena compound opened and the Matador stepped to one side. The clanking of metallic pants could be heard...slowly a figure emerged from the dark, forboding area of the compound. A sickening smell arose from the Paramite as it excreted itself. It was on its back, squirming around. Its back left-leg was all that was left. Blood was spurting on the sand-stone. The crowds conversed in hushed whispers. The hushed whispers turned to astonished gasps as they realised who it was entering the arena. Spider. His arms and torso seemed to sway as the 8 legs of his pants moved independently. A sawn-off shotgun was strapped to the side of his pants, his 'legs' were tipped with sharp razors. Capable of cutting through/into anything. He was closely followed by a small ball of white fur, known to this Dimension as the 'Commandor'. In its paw it grasped a hands free microphone. However, it was too large to be strapped to its head and thus had to be carried by its black little claws. He spoke into it as the crowd cheered and roared. Chanting Spider's name and 'Order' which was the society he founded.

Commandor: "Please...please...allow our Lord to speak!!"

Spider' head was crowned with a hands-free microphone. He raised his hands in jubilance, smiling proudly at what he had achieved to get a society like this.

Spider: "Brothers...thankyer fer such a warm welcome. But i have grave news. Wer, the 'Order', have recently recieved infomation stating that the Vykkers are planning an attack. 30-35% of Symbiote population have bin captured...the Vykkers plan to use these creatures ter destroy us...TER DESTROY OUR COLONY, OUR COMMUNITY!!"

His voice got harsher as he neared his point. The Paramite was slowly dying...it had died in vain. It put up a good fight, but now was doomed to die slowly. Having the flies eat away at its body.

Spider: "ORKHIDS, VYKKERS AND TRAITORS TER OUR LEGION ARE PLANNING TER DESTROY OUR ORDER. TER REBEL AND NOT THINK OF WHO OR WHAT THEY ARE HURTING. DO WER WANT THIS? DO WER WANT TER BE BROUGHT DOWN...HARD...INTO THE BLOOD RIDDEN MUD!?"

He brought out his sawn-off shotgun and cocked it. Snarling and turning around in a circle to see the entire crowd. They cheered and graced Spider' ears with 'Down with the rebels' and such like. Spider chuckled and brought the weapon down, lining it up with the dying Paramite...aiming it for its stomach.
*Boosh*
Its rib cage shattered and the skin broke. Black blood spewed everywhere. The Matador sneered...the spatter from the impact had stained his Meech skin boots. The rattling sound of the steel bars and mesh could be heared as the crowds shook it in exitement.

Spider: "I have such a traitor...He was going ter rebel...he tried to attack our collegues...our bretheren. Bring him."

He turned his head as he said the last two words. His voice was soft yet still filled with authority. Out of the blackness of the compound two Mudokon guards dragged a body out into the sun. The Commandor squeeled in exitement realising that it was definatly Orkhid. Its skin pale and scarred. Most likely through lashings. They dragged it by its legs, its arms were tied behind its back with raggy rope. A black material covered its head, disorientating it. Roughly they pulled it up, dragging it towards Spider. The creature seemed weak and put up hardly no resistance. The black cover was snatched off and sunlight hit the startled creatures face. Tobias groaned and looked around. He was dazzled. Left in a black, grotesque scented room and beaten it was no wonder. A sharp pain on the top of his head awoke him abit. His feet left the ground and he was hoisted into the air by his hair. Spider laughed. A sinister, evil laugh.

Spider: "He shall be yer next entertainer. It is a bonus fer being so supportive of the 'Order' the past couple o' months. Collect yer winnings from the Paramite fight and rush back...yer wouldn't want ter miss this fight, would they Malice?"

He turned his head to the sky, Tv like boxes hovered downwards. Propellers were built on the bottom and the back of them. Spindly arms graced the sides, moving independently. They waved around, the sun light bouncing off the sharpened razors. There was five in total. They flew around the arena, their voices enhanced by the Tanoys behind the caged compound. Their faces, their faces of a Slig...cross Drakkic.

(OOC: Thanx for the support once again. And blahness to this story.)