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He gave the man a hard poke in the chest while smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers, then leaned in with bloodlust radiating from every word hissed with his icy voice. “Notice that I haven’t asked your name yet, even though I gave you mine? It’s because you don’t have a name to me. To me, you’re just ‘Bitch’, the sniveling little Bitch who decided to come in here and ruin my evening, talking awfully big game for someone in skull-fucking range. That’s what’ll be engraved on your tombstone: ‘Here lies Bitch. Cause of death: got skull-fucked until his brains leaked out of his ears.’ Shit, I’ll carve the engraving myself. Now I suggest you get the fuck out before I use your eye sockets like a whore’s ass!”

Chuckling and spitting up blood, Abner slowly got to his feet. “You’ll think you’ll win this just because you’re strong? You don’t know what real strength is, the strength of having friends at your side, cheering for you! As long as I have them and hope in my heart, I can never die!”

You’re still here because you’re strong, maybe not strong enough to win, but strong enough to live. How many knights and soldiers can say that? How many people in history do you think have clawed their way through the mud, gnashing their teeth and howling in pain, all for that little victory? You being here, after all that bloodshed and horror, is an accomplishment you shouldn’t dismiss.”