A man stepped out from behind one of the pillars, a severed head in his left hand, an unstrapped red-sheathed sword in his right. A thick trail of blood lead to a dark corridor behind him. This prison was a maze. A literal one. Built to keep the worst scum any dimension had to offer at bay. Thousands upon thousands of miles of corridors, rooms, and the occasional meeting point hall. This was such a point, with eight doors leading out of it prisoners were bound to run into each other if they stuck around long enough. Food and water was awarded by an A.I upon ending the life of another prisoner. There were no guards here, and only one exit. the U.D (United Dimensions) had designed the place well, and only the most hardened and persistent of people managed to claw themselves out of this hell hole.
Mordem dropped the head, and nudged it forward with it foot. It rolled twice before stopping, it's owner's awkward expression persisting throughout. Blood seeped onto the wooden floor, glistening in the light.
"I've already eaten today." - Mordem said.
There was a man-thing standing in the middle of the hall, but he was not the only one. Mordem had been through many of these rooms, he knew their smell, their feel, their sound. This one was damp, foul, and so silent that he could hear clear breathing coming from the pillars opposite his. He unsheathed his sword, wielding the blade in his right hand, and holding the empty sheath in his left. His shoulders raised, his feet moved apart, and knees bent. He lowered his head with a smile. His hands were held down towards the side, the bloody tip of his sword caressing the floor. His eyes scanned the room.
"Marco.."