Round Robin Story Debate Tournament

Asakia stood over the body of his father, panting heavily, the still bloody ceremonial knife in hand. His gaze fell from the limp form of his father to the ornately decorated knife. A skull pommel adorned the pitch black handle. A stone blade protruded from the handle, a smiling skull carved onto both sides. Asakia’s eyes met with the skull’s. It’s leering smile mocking Asakia. Blood dripping from it’s mouth. It’s eyes, it’s eyes! They burned. Asakia’s grim expression turned into one of terror. It’s eyes! It’s eyes! The world spun, Asakia lost his balance. He fell to his feet , his eyes still stuck to the skull’s. They burned him. He writhed on the ground convulsing. They burned!! The wind whistled, Asakia, felt it pull. The skull was pulling him in. Face first, Asakia was fell into the skull. “HA HA HA HA HA!!!” a voice boomed. The mouth on the skull opened wide and swallowed Asakia whole. A void opened in the sky. A screaming child dropped like a stone from the void, collapsing heavily on the ground. Wincing, Asakia got up to his feet. He looked around. “What’s happening?” he asked. “Who are you? Show yourself!” he cried out. He stared around, looking up at the sky. The void was rapidly closing. “ASAKIA, YOU THINK YOU ARE SO WISE, DON’T YOU?” the voice asked. It sounded like finger nails grating on antelope bones. It was scratchy, deep, cold, and petrifying. Asakia winced; his chest was being constricted as if iron bands were wrapped around him. He collapsed to his knees. “Show, show yourself!” he cried. His voice bellowing through his pain. It came out as a terrified squeak. “HA HA HA HA!!” the voice shouted. “I don’t have to do anything you ask, you are to do MY BIDDING!” Asakia’s chest contracted more and more. Asakia cried out in pain. “Stop, stop please!” the bands loosened. Air rushed into Asakia’s lungs. He collapsed on the ground, coughing and retching. “What do you want from me?” he asked. “I DON’T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU ASAKIA. I WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING. RISE, ASAKIA. TAKE A LOOK AROUND.” Asakia shakily got to his feet. His gaze wandered. It all looked so familiar, the mud huts, the dining area, the ceremonial fire, the pit of wisdom... “This is my village!” Asakia shouted out. “GOOD, GOOD. YOU STILL RECOGNIZE THE PLACE. THIS IS YOUR VILLAGE NOW. THIS, THIS IS YOUR VILLAGE 10 YEARS FROM NOW.” The entire village shimmered. Colors mixed, flowed, shapes changed, objects blurred and flew past Asakia’s head as the entire village reorganized itself. The effect of the colors, speed, and movement was nauseating. Asakia’s hair flew back, a wind was growing. He raised his hands in front of his face, trying to block the piercing blows of wind from reaching his face. The wind blew him back, and back, and back. It grew stronger, and stronger, and stronger. He staggered. His eyes squeezed closed, tears flowing. “Make it stop, make it stop!!” he cried out. The wind instantly died down. Asakia, braced himself for more wind. His muscles tensed. “OPEN YOUR EYES, ASAKIA.” Asakia cringed at the voice. He slowly lowered his arms and opened his eyes. “LOOK AROUND. THIS IS YOUR DOING, ASAKIA.” The entire village was in flames. People dashed around, screaming. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Mud houses ablaze with flame. Large pops were punctuating the screams of the dying. Asakia’s eyes looked around, horrified. The smoke blurred Asakia’s vision and filled his lungs. He fell to his knees, coughing. He stared around at his village. Huts collapsed. Warriors fell to the ground, hit by some invisible force. Children cried out for their mothers, only to be silenced by a cracking pop. Men run with buckets of water, desperately trying to control the raging inferno. “THIS IS WHAT YOU DID, ASAKIA. THIS IS YOUR FAULT.” Tears welled in Asakia’s eyes, his village. It was crumbling around him, just like his control. A flood of tears burst forth from his eyes. “Why? Why are you torturing me like this?” “YOU NEED TO BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR ACTIONS, AND WARNED.” A massive explosion roared in the background. Men ran forth, their skin pale. Metal plates covered their bodies. They had facial hair, they looked like hideous demons. They ran around, feeding the flame with flammables. They carried wooden sticks that created massive POPS. He watched as a warrior dashed out of a burning hut, wielding a spear. “ALLALLLALALALYALYALY!!” he cried as he charged forth, wielding a spear and leather shield. A man who seemed to be the enemies leader turned around, pointed the staff and POP the warrior fell to the ground. The man on the ground writhed. The man in armour walked forward, casually. As the village burned around them, all eyes were drawn to the man on the ground and the man in armour. The armoured man reached down and picked up the man’s spear. The villager choked, blood rising in his mouth. The armoured man stood above, looking down at the hurt villager. He placed the tip of the spear on the man’s chest. The white man stared around at the burning village. He suddenly lifted the spear high in the air. “This is my village now.” He plunged the spear down, and Asakia watched as his adult self died before his eyes. “THIS IS YOUR VILLAGE 20 YEARS FROM NOW.” The image shifted and changed again. Now, Asakia was in a completely different place. Everyone looked like the man in armour. They walked around chatting. Massive buildings soared across the sky. There were many new things, things never seen by Asakia before. There were fragrant aromas, new sights, and different sounds. People spoke in a different language. Suddenly, a man rushed forth and started shouting. People strode off to the side, showing a grey round with round squares implanted in the road. Asakia saw strange, four-legged demons walking down the road, pulling a cart. Inside the cart, people screamed and banged on the cages. Their hands, bound together. People watched as they were pulled through down the road, the man in armour at the head of the cart. A cloth had been attached to his back. He was holding Asakia’s spear, waving at the crowd as they cheered. A look inside the cart revealed horrors for Asakia. His people, they sat naked in the dark. Their hands bound together, cramped to the point where they couldn’t even move their legs. It was dank and smelled of human feces. Asakia turned red with rage. “I will kill him!” Asakia shouted, staring at the man in armour. “BUT REMEMBER, HE KILLED YOU.” The voice shouted at him. The image shifted again. Asakia returned to his village, everything normal, everything standing, people happy and alive. Asakia whirled around. “Is this real?” he shouted out. “No, but this is your, OUR village now.” Asakia whirled around. His father was walking toward him. “Asakia, I don’t blame you. But you must learn from my mistakes. This future is inevitable, don’t try to change it, but whatever you do, you MUST SAVE OUR PRIEST’S STAFF. IT MUST BE SAVED. IT MUST.” “But, father—“the void in the sky opened again, and Asakia was sucked up. “I love you, son.” His father said. Asakia gasped, the village stared at him. He looked around; no one noticed what had happened. He wasn’t on the ground; he was still on his feet. He glanced down at his father’s body and at the knife still in his hand. The skull smiled up at him. He threw the knife down, turned and ran away, veiling his tears from his village.