disappearing baseballs. someone else does that pomegranate

My soul creaks at the strain of this challenge, this hell-sent task that I have appointed myself to beating. As if to build my confidence for this, the first warriors they sent before me were quickly reduced to ashes. Donkey, Elephant, Pig. Three would-be protectors to a dark throne and powerless ones at that. The kangaroo was the first time I sensed something off, a vague sense that things were not as they seemed.

Then came the Rabbit. What was a vague sense crept to full warning, this was no ordinary game I was playing and that there were dark forces at work. He taunted between fouls and strikes, "One such as you cannot best me, or the master that gives me power! Your being will be ours, why bother resisting?" Oh bother indeed, the raging fires of my resistance would not be quelled by this infernal Lapine! My bat swung straight and true, fueled by divine rage and might to banish this darkness back to the depths of hell where it belonged. No hellspawn magic will prevent my goal! My heart is strong, my will is as grown and steady as the oldest oak, secure roots into the deep of the earth. And with singing wood in my hand did the Rabbit fall.

"Ha.. You continue on... The power of my 2 brothers will break you. And all this will be in vain..." Dying words from a dying demon, the baseball he held falling from his palm and landing with a climatic thud on the grass below. I looked on as the figure of the Rabbit recoiled and jerked, his being twisting and warped as the demonic energy that held him together was banished and his form was blown to nothing by the weakest of breeze.

I pressed onward for my foes grew little in number, but more terrifying in power. Rest or respite was impossible, my teeth gritted as I continued and soon I found my next target. Stood on the plate was a form as innocent looking as the rest, but ill with evil influence, an aura of heavy malevolence and horror. "So! You have bested all of my kin that came before you, but you shall not pass me. Quake in fear mortal, for you have entered a realm beyond your understanding." Each word seemed to drain my energy, the owl's foul speech was laced with some spell, some leech of stamina and alertness! I needed to be quick then, or this Avian devil will trap me within sleep. Once again battle reigned. Bat and ball were pitted against one and another in a match of will.

"Your death will not be swift!" The owl announced with annoyed grandeur, throwing his next pitch with focused look and evil grin. My eyes could not believe what they were seeing! The baseball slithering side-to-side in the air like a most damned serpent, fueled by magic most dark. Strike was called as I stared in disbelief, the owl reveling in my confusion. "You see, you cannot win! Your war against our master ends now!" No. I could not stand to be defeated here, to lose to tricks such as this, not when I was so close to the goal. I swung my weapon with purpose, the sweat-soaked wood alighting with pain in my hands as I sought to strike these devilish balls. Crack. Crack. Crack. It seemed to carry on for longer than I thought possible, like I had not eaten or slept in weeks but finally my moment of victory rang through. These devils relied on a spell or illusion, and far too much. To figure out this weakness is to gain victory.

No words of agony or taunting from the owl, the monster simply died in unveiled pain as the occult energy sustaining him was forced into oblivion. And every onward I went. Weary from my journey I simply shut out the pain and exhaustion racking my form. Whatever hell I had stumbled into, I would defeat. I had no other choice, since admitting loss would rend my soul from my body and have it added to the damned that came to try before me.

"Ahaha, A challenger! Finally! It's been a while since I've been able to test my mettle!" This voice seemed different from the others, cheery sounding and pleased; not that it didn't have the sadistic undertones of the other foul demons, and so appeared a tiger, or he called himself 'Tigger'. "I am the last guardian, face me brave warrior! Let us do glorious battle!" My thoughts reeled at the exclamation. The last guardian, my task was nearly complete! The hope that stirred in my heart gave life to shattered muscles and tired joints, and even the hint of a smile crossed my lips as I readied. That smile died the instant the first pitch was finished, as more damned black magic was used to ruin me. The baseball disappeared out of sight, only to reappear an instant before the plate. That hope steeled into grim determination as I waged battle with Tigger. It was all I could do to simply hit the balls, to survive the onslaught of projectiles that caved in and out of reality.

It was by instinct that I eventually gained the upper hand, and victory with it. Every swing timed a little more perfectly, the muscles memory of events allowing my broken form to smash those possessed baseballs away; and never did the smile on Tigger's face fade. It was more unnerving then any show of anger or power, a mere unchanging mask. Not even when the last ball was struck, and his body was cast back into the void. "So.... long."

Thus, I was alone once again and collapsed on the batter's plate, my body pushed to its breaking limit. Each strike was another crack on my diminishing being, each strike another hole bored into my weakened spirit. Time and effort had taken me to the brink of losing my sanity, my flesh, my soul. Ragged lungs heaved to fill with fresh air, to recover from the last extricating trail when a voice boomed from all directions. I struggled to my feet using my trusty weapon as a stand, looking around for the source of this voice. Whatever it was, it must surely be the source of this well of evil.

"Silly warrior, your sins will not be weighed lightly." A figure appeared on the pitcher's mound, and his appearance froze me to the core. It was not but a young lad, perfectly sweet if one were to casually look. But I had learned better, and I saw the true nature of this beast. Inside his eyes, his dark unyielding eyes was a nexus of swirling mystical energy; a literal vortex of damned souls that wailed and screamed and gnashed for escape. There was none, and he merely smiled at my reaction, savouring the lost sanity and fear welling up inside of me.

"What manner of god ARE you?" I stammered.

"Well, there's no god here today. Just ME."