Theos walked through the ranch. He was dragging a heavy sword, wide and thick not made for cutting but for smashing. It left a thick valley in the mud as he walked along the wet ground towards the stable. Theos went up to the blue doors and reached for a key on his belt. It was gold and sparkled brightly in the evening sky. There was a click and the door slid open. There was a creature inside. As the room was flooded with light, Camelot was sat in the corner amazingly human like. He peered up from his sword momentarily then continued to polish it. Theos laughed a little, a thin hollow laugh. Camelot didn't stare up at him but just polished and polished his sword. The rag he was using was being cut to shreds by the blade.

"What are you doing you stupid creature?" Theos spat the words out as he stared down at the monster.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" He bellowed.

Camelot slowly lifted his head. The light reflected scratches and cuts all over his helmet. He looked meaningfully at his master.

"What are you doing?" Theos growled.

Camelot knew the answer would not be satisfactory to his master and would just cue another argument. He turned back to his polishing. Theos growled with anger, he lifted the sword above his head and pushed it down towards the creature's helmet. Normally Camelot would allow the abuse. Normally he would. But he was fed up with it. Theos stuttered. His sword went flying above his head and cut into the barn wall, sending splinters of wood in all directions. Theos looked incredibly angry. His face was red and his eyes penetrating the armour of Camelot as he grinded his teeth. Camelor had blocked the heavy shot with his own sword. It had been easy. Theos went to get the sword from the barn wall and then slowly stopped. He turned to see Camelot standing, his sword drawn and his shield held up. Theos knelt to the ground and drew the sword.

"How dare you go against your master?" He hissed and dived at Camelot.

Camelot knocked the shot away easily and smacked Theos in the face with the face of his shield. Theos's face melted into blood. He dived again though and Camelot made the most important decision of his life. Theos stopped and the sword fell from his hands. It bounced as it hit the floor leaving a small valley in the dust. Theos slid off Camelot's sword. Camelot did not seem to feel anything, he felt angry at him self for not grieving the death of his master, or not being guilty for the murder. He realized that it had been going on too long. The beatings, the starving, the constant weathering. He had been left out in a field for two months that winter, with no protection from the cold. The master was not even a real trainer; he had no certificate or license and thus was unable to send monsters to battle except in private illegal fights. He raised monsters to punish them and take out his anger upon them. Camelot left the ranch that evening. He didn’t know why, he just felt like he should. The ghost of his master was hanging round his head. Camelot walked and walked for days before he came upon a village. People were scrambling around making noise and stacking barrels. He had a vague idea about the town, he had been there with Theos before. Camelot was an outsider. He no longer belonged. He was the first of what was going to become a global problem. He was gleaming in the sunlight. As he looked around the street he could hear a noise, behind all the rumbling noises towns have all the time. It was a slow kind of squeak. It sounded sad, like someone trying to muffle a cry. It was sniffly and scratchy as well. Camelot looked around the street. No one was looking strange or seemed to hear the sound. Camelot trued to locate the sounds source; it appeared to be coming from an alley. He slowly approached the alleyway. There were maybe four people in their crowded round something. They were all moving strangely but laughing and talking at the same time. As Camelot dragged his feet along the ground one of the people stopped and turned to look at him. He tapped one of the others on the shoulder and they all stopped what ever it was they were doing. They separated a little and Camelot looked to where they had stood. A hopper lay on the floor, bruised and beaten, hardly breathing, sniffling and coughing a little. Camelot felt himself get really angry, he was used to not showing his feelings but he had lost all care in himself now. The people began to laugh three were male and one was female. The nearest male was a lot younger and seemed really sure of him. He knelt down and lifted up a piece of piping. The women smiled a little and considered saying something to him as he hovered on the idea of attacking Camelot.

"Look at it's helmet, it looks half dead already."
They all laughed at this except the younger man. He slammed the pipe against his hand and then shrugged and ran at Camelot. The pipe slammed into his helmet and made another dent. Camelot drew his sword and stood ready to attack. The man with the pipe turned around and laughed a little. He leapt at the durahan and brought the pipe to meet his helmet. The sword knocked the pipe away with ease. The man seemed a little more reluctant to attack after this but he swiped again. This hit was rebounded by a wooden shield. Camelot swung his sword through the air and ripped a torent of blood from the mans stomach. The man screamed and hit the floor clutching his waist. Camelot took his sword into the air with silence as the other humans stood shocked into quiet. He brung it down and the man stopped writhing. Camelot's head rose to stare at the others.

"What the…It’s eyes, what is…what's going on…" A man stammered.

Camelot's eyes were glowing much brighter than normal. More red than was possible. The suit of armor ascended on the crowd of people and cut them down one by one. When he walked to the cowering hopper dripping in blood he knelt down beside the furry body. The hopper was dead. Camelot was angry, he was an angry outsider.

Wow...