Pulling himself from the ground, Amycus felt the blood and gravel pool in his mouth. He lifted his chin, spitting it on the gaggle of teary children, and then rubbed the pack of his palm against his lips. 

“WHAT’D I TELL YOU, CUNT,” he seethed, and yanked another child from the bunch by her straw-colored braids. She shook just as fervently as the last one, as he placed his hands at her skull, just as he had done mere minutes before.

“N-NOOOO, PLEASE NO!” Her screams filled every crevice of his dark soul with joy. What he would give to hear more terror coming from every being in this stadium—begging him as if he were a god among mortals. 

“I’ll fucking kill this one, too,” he barked.