Why do you want to continue?

The room was a never-ending white light that shone brightly. In front of John, there was a bunny. A regular bunny. A bunny with big soft ears, two powerful legs that it jumped around in, one that was the size of a ball. Its hide soft, it's eyes slightly sparkly brown. A normal bunny that nibbled on a carrot every now and then.

The bunny eagerly said, "Hello John! How was your last challenge?" in a most cheerful way. John walked forward, his red eyes not looking at the bunny on the floor. It skitted forward if it could hug him it would. When it got too close John kicked it away. His lips stretching out, a snarl.

"I don't need the break," John said. "It's to relax sometimes, I'd recommend taking it." "I said, I don't need a break."

"Fine."

"Challenge 6 has begun." A more robotic voice appeared.

The room was vast, slightly cold, there was a bad stench, and it was entirely pitch black. But, light illuminated the table in front of John. Behind the table sat a man, the source of the stench. He smiled, a majority of his teeth were missing, the rest were white and black with giant holes in them. A repulsive sight.

The man's face was covered in dirt, his ears had been beaten into cauliflowers. He had a heavy, ripped hat on him. His coat was large, black, dirt and blood was stained all over his coat; he had a white shirt stained with more blood.

John looked around. In every other challenge, there was a white room.

"Sit down," the man had a hoarse voice as if somebody smashed his throat in with a pan when he was but a mere child, "if you can convince me to let you pass, you will pass. Shall we begin?" The poor man finished.

John sat down, slightly annoyed. He would have to talk to dirt, for his way out.

"Convince you of what?"

"Convince me of not killing you."

"Ha, as if you could." John's red eyes stared intently into his brown eyes.

In an instant, he felt a heavy hand around his jaw lifting him up. John bit into the hand feeling blood seep into his mouth, the taste of iron. The hand clenched harder, it felt as though his jaw would be crushed. The sparkly, and joyful eyes on the man had faded into the eyes of a lone wolf. Desperate, and remorseless. He felt the wind brush against him.

He got dropped and the man slowly walked his way back to the chair, quite menacingly at that. Then he sat down and returned his stare towards him.

He dropped John, and walked back to his pace, slowly enough to show he's not scared. Blood dripped from his hand. He fell into his chair and stared at John, who had stood up. The pain in his jaw fading.

"Shall we begin?"

John scoffed, he walked, and then sat down on the chair. His legs spread far apart, swinging under the table.

"I'm a murderer, I've killed enough humans to fit towns, the amount is uncountable. Another soul wouldn't change anything for me. So tell me, just why, I shouldn't kill you."

John stared at the man, what type of question was this. He looked to his left, then looked to his right. He looked at the ground, his eyes heavy. A forced tear. In a light voice, he said, "Because I…"

Suddenly, he whipped his gun out, bent over the table, and blasted the big man straight in the head. He flew back, John jumped over the table. Ran forward and mounted the man. He raised his right hand and swung and crashed it into his face. One time, two times...

The man had a wide grin on his face, the only thing John's attacks were practically cleaning his face, not injuring it. John's hands started hurting, bad. He took out his pistol and tried to shove it down his throat. Unsuccessful, his teeth stopped him. He pointed both his pistols at his neck and emptied them at the same time.

His neck vibrated, but nothing more than that. John took the guns and began bashing them into his eyes, and ears. The man's grin got even wider. His stomach clenched and he slowly rose up. He grabbed John by the neck and walked back to the table.

He threw John into the chair, breaking the fickle wooden chair. "I do like it when they have a bit of spice in them. You're just my type."

John slowly rose up, his back aching. He had tried and failed to beat the man into submission. He slammed the ground with his hand, hard enough to hurt. He stood up.

The man walked over to his chair and sat down, once again he stared at John. "Why shouldn't I kill you. No more tricks."

John walked over to the table, now standing. "Because I have to get out of this dungeon."

"Why?"

John's voice got darker, deeper, more sinister, "I have a person out there I need to pay a visit."

"Who and why?"

"The man who killed me, he needs to die."

"Better forget it and move on. I should know, I chased the bride we call vengeance for far too long, she is not a prize worth having. Always switching sides."

"No." John's voice had complete authority.

"Why?"

"Because it was my best friend."

"Oh, what a cliché! Let me guess, it was some girl?"

Johns' teeth scraped against each other, simply remembering that memory had pissed him off to no end. It was without question the most infruitating time of his life.

"Well, I guess that's a good enough reason. But, why exactly did he betray you?"

"I don't know."

"There are a lot of reasons to betray somebody, hatred, greed, maybe an outside pressure. Sometimes it's even an honest mistake." John scoffed at the last one.

"Either way, I'll let you pass." Behind him, a white door appeared. John walked into it.