"I got this story from the original game. I was at baseball and there is this gigantic mound of dirt behind a fence. My friend Thomas and I play King of the Hill there every Tuesday and for the life of me, I cannot beat him. I simply put a terrible twist to the game. I hope you like it. Enjoy the sport of death!" - Gage
* * *
There is a King of the Hill. The giant hill on the edge of a cliff in Henrisville is the Hill. The King is Yakov Fenrich, the German King. He is the King of the Hill. Henrisville is in Germany. King of the Hill is a sport in this town. Everyday, Yakov stands on the hill. He is the best of all the people who have challenged him. In King of the Hill in Henrisville, there is a lottery.
The unlucky fellow who wins has to fight Yakov and try to throw him off the hill. If he loses, he falls off the hill, thus falling off the cliff and plummeting to the rocks below. If he should win, he is the new King and battles all the others who challenge him.
The lottery began and nervous people were gathered around the person passing out the slips of paper. Ivan Petrov was one of these, nervously playing with his paper. Would he be picked? Hopefully not.
"Who's got it?" shouted someone in the crowd.
Every single one opened their slips. A few seconds elapsed, then the crowd burst into pandemonium and hysteria, complete chaos.
"Who has it?!" bellowed the people, shoving and nudging through the group. Ivan drew a breath, staring at the dot on his paper. His throat closed.
He was the one today.
He nervously held it up in the air.
"I got it," he whispered.
Everyone congratulated themselves for not being picked. The announcer dragged him to the hill and stripped him of his shirt.
"No shirt pulling," he said.
Perched on the hill, was Yakov. He drilled intimidating eyes at his foe and Ivan's blood turned freezing cold, ice slowly running through his veins. I'm going to die, he thought. He turned to the crowd, and with a last wave, walked towards Yakov.
They both cracked their necks and flexed their muscles. Who would win? The announcer explained the rules. "Two people on a hill. One gets pushed off. If you land on the edge, you are still in. Got it?" he said.
Both nodded. They stood evenly on the mound, centering their balance and force.
"FIGHT!!" someone shrieked. And it began.
Yakov immediately shoved Ivan, both stumbling. Ivan maintained footing and sent a crushing blow to Yakov's left cheek.
Yakov fired a clenched fist just below Ivan's eye. Ivan staggering back in pain. He didn't see the next hit come. A powerful hand was jammed into his stomach and he kneeled. He was pushed to his back, but bolted up. He locked hands with Yakov. If Ivan went down, it was with dignity, showing his kids and wife how courageous he was.
They both pushed hard, resting all their weight on the opposing player. Yakov was stronger. Ivan was leaning backwards, but Ivan stopped pushing and yanked Yakov backwards. Yakov flipped over and tightened his hands on the edge.
Ivan pushed Yakov and saw him fall to the ground far below. He. . .won.
He jumped into the crowd, hugging his family, exclaiming, "I'm the King!"
There was a great fuss. Later that night, Ivan sat watching T.V. while his wife and baby were asleep.
The baby monitor and T.V. started to malfunction. Static fuzzed from both devices.
In the monitor, Ivan heard a voice. "I am not finished yet. Come upstairs. Come."
Ivan crept up the stairs. The total of fifteen seeming like a winding staircase of four-hundred. He stepped up and up…
A transparent ghost of Yakov stood there, looming over the baby. "You have defeated me," he said eerily.
No way. He couldn't have survived. Or maybe he was a phantom. . .
"I will haunt you forever," Yakov threatened. He gently touched the baby's head, and the second he did, a red mark appeared on little Davy.
"That means I can enter or exit his soul," the ghost explained.
"If I am not in his body, he just sits and drools. If I am, he is possessed. So you will never see his true personality, unless you..." Ivan spat.
Yakov grinned hugely. "Die tomorrow."
Ivan started to weep.
"If you die, I will set him free of this prison he is in. Your wife will truly know who he is."
Ivan sniffed sadly. "Okay," he said. "Just... when I'm dead, set him free."
Yakov entered the baby's body. The baby sat up terrifyingly like the baby from the underworld and uttered one word in a sharp, cold voice.
The next day, Ivan was on the hill. He was anxiously waiting for his enemy. Today was his last day. A large man appeared, shirtless. What if I win? thought Ivan. What happens?
A mark was on the man's head, a red mark. He was. . . Yakov in the man's body.
"If you die, I will have defeated you," Yakov said in the man.
"FIGHT!!!" shouted one.
It began. Ivan pushed with all his might thinking, if he pushed Yakov off now, he could save Davy.
Yakov pushed with all his force. Ivan fell, hooked onto the edge.
I can make it. I can make it.
"You will die exactly like me, Ivan," Yakov said through gritted, yellow teeth.
Ivan attempted to get upright. He pushed with all his strength as Yakov pushed down on him with his boot…
Yakov fell onto his back as Ivan slowly got back up. He got on his hands and knees. But…
Ivan did not win. The second he was on all fours Yakov kicked him in the face and all his effort was for nothing. His last glimmer of hope and thought of victory was shattered when he fell…
Down, down, down…
He finally knew there was a new King or rather the old one just reclaiming his title….
Davy Petrov woke up from his prison and was in his own body, his own soul. But where was his father?