<strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Hettún versus Anya</span></strong><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Warriors/Oni3-1.jpg)</div><br/>In retrospect, Hettún should have realized that something was amiss the moment he was told to get drunk out of his mind before his scheduled battle.  It had only taken one or two well publicized incidents before the Arena Managers realized how potentially catastrophic things could become if the oni was intoxicated during a fight.  Though his spectacular entry into the games had been fueled by an alcohol-induced blood rage, audiences became considerably less enthusiastic when they accidentally became the targets of the so-called "God Killer's" mighty fists.  To say nothing of the expensive damages to the stadium itself, it was generally agreed that the demon was to abstain from drinking if he was going to participate in an official match.  Only on very rare occasions was this iron-clad rule lifted, typically when he was to be facing off against hordes of ravenous monstrosities dredged up from the dark corners of the world.  So it was with a faintly buzzing head and high expectations that Hettún crashed through the massive steel doors and into the arena, bending them apart like so much tissue paper and tossing them into the far walls.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"Hettún is here!  Let the blood and screaming commence!"</span>he roared to the heavens, his bass voice causing the earth itself to tremble at his approach.  The crowd immediately joined in on the revelry, screaming back at him and reaching a feverish pitch in mere seconds.  Clearly his arrival was as much a surprise to them as to the lone scantily clad woman at the center of the stadium, though he could not have possibly realized why so many of them seemed on the verge of laughter.<br/><br/>Pumping one clenched fist high above his head the Oni marched slowly towards Anya, though he seemed completely unaware of her presence.  Though he flashed a toothy grin towards his adoring public, his expression grew gradually more confused as he glanced searchingly about the field.  By the time he had reached the tiny woman he had begun to scratch his head and make short grunts of discontentment, obviously unsure of what exactly he was supposed to be doing.  After a moment he finally seemed to register Anya's presence, blinking down at her from above.<br/><br/>"What is prostitute doing in ring?" he asked bluntly, just loud enough for the first few rows of the crowd to burst into hysterics.<br/><br/>Hettún grasped Anya's shoulder between two fingers as gently as he could, pushing her aside momentarily to look behind her as though half expecting some horrible beast to lunge forward and fight him.  Finding nothing he then lifted her completely off the ground, hunched over to stare at the dirt just beneath her dangling feet, then dropped her unceremoniously back to the ground.<br/><br/>"Little girl!" he roared again, jabbing a finger accusingly in her direction.  "What did you do with opponent?  Is not funny, yes?  Show me where you are hiding him!"