Jyggalag the Gladiator and the Power of Color and Geometry

I AM THE BRINGER OF DESATURATION, THE HORRIBLE IMPLIER, THE END BEFORE THE CLIMAX

I bring ORDER to this PIT and my PET ORDERS THE PIT. The Black and White are kept separate from the shades of gray as well as each other. My hound devours them individually, digs a new hole, and vomits that color into the hole to be buried and kept for every ever. This keeps him OCCUPIED, SATISFIED, and WEAK. For what is more dangerous to a master than strong, discontented servant with nothing to do?

This creature follows me into the Arena where I do battle with a new challenger, and sometimes one whom I have challenged. Sometimes there are two combatants. Sometimes, there are three or five or eight or thirteen. Each time I enter I am VICTORIOUS. My will so STRONG, my reputation so FEARED, my power so GREAT that I even decide HOW, WHEN, and WHY my enemies fight. I choose what WEAPONS they use, the TECHNIQUES they attempt, and where their BLOOD is spilt.

The blood. The precious BLOOD. The shades of gray that flow from my enemies. I decide even how it falls, and what shape the splatter takes. The first and largest spill came from the First Mother and is still the same shade of white now as it was when it was anew. Within this shape, which is and was of my choosing, lies smaller but still great shapes which were made from the blood of the Second Mothers. Each of these shapes is a gray color closer to white than black. Within these smaller but great shapes lies the smallest but most numerous shapes which were made from the blood of the First Daughters. They, too, were gray but closer to white. However, they weren't close enough and so were separate from the whiter shades that they lay within.

The blood closer to BLACK came from my STRONGEST adversaries who were CUNNING and WHOLE. Their blood fell into neat sections, of which, I am very proud. The blood-shapes of the Second Fathers lay about the Arena floor, each of which was darker than the last. Within these splatters lay the whiter but still dark drops of the First Sons. Everything in its place.

All the GRAYBLOODS feared me. I would defeat them ALL and be CHAMPION OF THE ARENA. But TREACHERY lay at the foot of my bed. My PET, my HOUND, my SERVANT grew restless. My sense of order was TOO PERFECT. The blood spilled exactly where it needed to be. He had NOTHING to devour, to hide, to organize. He was DISCONTENTED with NO PURPOSE, but still very hungry and very weak. During one of my contests, he snuck off to meet with my adversaries. He told them of my ONE MISTAKE; my ONE WEAKNESS. The blood of the First Sons lay in the blood of the Second Fathers, but the blood of the Second Fathers did NOT lay in the blood of the FIRST FATHER.

That DREADFUL father had no blood for he DID NOT EXIST. He was a HOLE in the ground; there, in the way, but not there at the same time. My adversaries ALL challenged me. Each one appeared. They knew my FLAW. They were so certain of themselves they NO LONGER FEARED me. My power over them waned. I no longer choose HOW or WHY they fight, they have made their own decisions, but I still choose with WHAT they fight with. I give them TOOLS to fight with; by which I mean shovels. Clumsy and ineffective weapons. One could not defend against nor attack anything with them. My victory was assured.

When the battle began they did not charge toward ME. They charged toward the DARKER BLOOD that I had spilt upon the ground. They began to DIG as I began to strike them down, one by one, in the same manner each time. When the hole became deep, and their numbers few, those who remained used all the strength they had to THROW ME INTO THE HOLE.

As I fell down this hole, I could see some of the darker shaded blood fall with me. As I fell farther and farther, the blood disappeared; vanished from sight within the darkness. When I finally reached the bottom, I could not see my hand in front of my face. Down here, there was no light. Down here, there was no white. It was completely, utterly Black.

It is very early in the morning where I am, and kinda pulled this out of my butt in the middle of the night. Anyways, this is my take on the rise and fall of old Jygsaw.

EDIT: Please pardon any grammatical farts