Gladiators, swords, and animal rage. (500 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.71 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Parkinsuns (View user info) at 2005-03-02 07:24:56 EST
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AUTHORS NOTE:
The inspiration of this post came from http://www.ubersite.com/m/60359 by TheCaes. I recommend reading it if you haven't yet. The story uses much more vocabulary applicable to the time period in its description, and its one hell of a good read.
I decided to write an off-shoot of it as an exercise in my own writing style. I don't claim to know much about the era, so if my historical references are way off the charts, forgive me. I'm simply writing for entertainment value. Enjoy.
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I am now accustomed to my new home. My captives bend me into submission at the end of their whips. The bars that cage me are my decor. The raw, rotting meat thrown at me is now my ambrosia. I fight, I win. This is my life, and I am meant to end others.
I have been let out more than my comrades recently. I can only suppose that's because I am the only one that keeps returning. We are kept separate from each other, but the presence of newcomers is easy to pick out for a veteran like me. Their voices are not yet drained of all their sanity. Their smell tells of their nervousness.
My disdain for them grows more with each passing moon. Their stench clings to my nostrils so much that I feel I could never be free of it. It tormented me that soon they would be seen as allies to my greatness. My only consolation is that time will tell the story as it has been told many times before. I will once again walk in triumph, alone.
A skipped meal, a sunny day, more movement than normal; these things upset the others. The main event is very important today, I know I must get my rest. A patch of shade and a hint of breeze offer a spot to tend to my wounds of recent battles. Gradually I block out the bustle around me and slip into a dream of days past. In those times I reigned wherever I went, and where I rest my head was home. Through matches of honor I had won my very own land and began to build a family. I lived in most peaceful life, save for when new warriors came and challenged my authority as I did when I was their age. On occasion some of the challengers reminded me of a younger self. However, they all lacked something, or more aptly, I had too much. Too much strength, too much power, and perhaps too much pride; all were probable reasons why my captors spotted me so easily. I was their prize, the ultimate champion.
The shaking of the cage awoke me from my blissful slumber. This was the way of things; I was cursed to never spend another season in peace. My captors had already set up my tunnel, my way to the staging area. I strolled silently into place against the sound of indecipherable noises my owners made and the clanking of money that exchanged in their hands.
Unlike those who I would soon oppose, I had no need to prepare my weapons. I carried my tools of death with me. They were a part of me, a physical extension of my body.
The sun shone down at the end of my journey. I walked into my final cage, and the door behind slammed shut. I had no impulse to turn around; all my senses were now fixed on the action above.
The cheers from the crowd were deafening. Blood stained every breath of air that entered my lungs. Sweat, poured from the combatants both living and recently deceased, was so thick it noticeably moistened the air. Clangs of shield and sword rang in my ears, only to be followed by the sound of penetrated skin and crushed bone. I stood sinking it all in, and for the first time since my last visit to the arena, by heartbeat rose. The action intoxicated me; my mouth watered, the hair on the back of my head began to stand up. Adrenaline got the best of me, and I made an attempt to calm it by pacing back and forth in my cage. End to end; I walked, waiting for the entrance ramp to fall open. My eyes stared only at the lock that prevented me from entering battle.
The sunlight burst into my eyes, the door dropped, and I rushed up into the open air. The sand here was tougher under my feet, no doubt changed over time by the fluid of the fallen.
Three more of my kind entered at the same moment as I. A quick glance proved my prior thoughts to be correct; they were no manner of simulation to my power. Weaklings, in my mind, that were merely there to distract my opponents.
The crowd grew even louder. The tallest of my opponents shouted at the others, holding his blade in the air. These pitiful creatures knew little of their upcoming fate, and for a moment in time, I almost pitied them. I broke away from my rush into a circling trot, strafing around the damned to gain more knowledge of who they were. More importantly, I plotted who I would kill first.
One fool took two steps forward, and threw his spear at me in a valiant but futile attempt to end my life. The act was all the opportunity I needed. With blinding speed I attacked, ending his life before he even understood the consequences of his mistakes. His jugular and carotid pumped blood onto the ground. The on-lookers reacted with an equal amount of disgust and excitement at the spectacle.
The others attacked moments after my deed was complete. They swarmed one gladiator who was holding both a club and an axe. I began circling once more, noticing a yellow fluid that spread down the weakest one's leg. He was not an enemy worthy of my attack; I would not bring myself to end his life. The honor of being torn apart by a caliber warrior such as me was reserved only for the strong, or the completely stupid.
One of my supposed allies fell with the sound of a club crushing most of his skull. I felt no anger, no pity, and no emotion. His fate did not concern me. The other two were visibly shaken, unsure if their plan or lack thereof, was worth continuing. One broke off and attacked the urine-stained challenger. With ease he introduced his weapon into skin, and blood broke out like red rivers. He enjoyed his victory too long, however, and the tall gladiator thrust is sword into his ribcage.
The battle between my ally and the duel-wielder raged on. Blows were dodges and lunges were avoided for what seemed like an eternity. Finally sheer speed edged first blood. The hand holding the club was dispatched into pieces. In agony the axe retaliated, and caught my final ally in the nape of the neck. Both stammered to stay on their feet. One, with uncontrollable blood streaming from his missing appendage, another with his life escaping though his back, they struggled to finish the other off. Neither got to see that day, they collapsed to the ground as life slipped away from both of them.
The crowd roared.
Destiny now left me in a battlefield of wasted life, face to face with the tall gladiator. His blade was covered in blood, and his body in sweat. Our eyes met. I knew in an instant he was a proud warrior of reputation, sent solely to ensure my first and final defeat.
He charged at me with shield and sword in extended, a tactic so bold and so rarely used that I found myself questioning how to react to it. On instinct I raced towards him. As we grew closer I easily recognized the positioning of his weapon, and dodged it.
I had corrected too much, the shield bashed against my face and sent my body sailing perpendicular to our line of charge. Quickly I found my feet, and returned my focus to my opponent, perhaps even my underestimated opponent. I had never made a mistake such as this before, and I was unwilling to make it again. My next attack would be the last one I needed.
As if on cue the warrior yelled and ran at me head on once more. From his footing and weapon placement I saw it was the same maneuver. I charged back, leaving no question the same result would take place.
This time I was much wiser to his plans, and dodged his sword in the opposite direction. I caught his neck and dragged him to the ground. He may have made an attempt to scream, but no sound came out of his lungs once I had fragmented his trachea.
The crowd applauded my victory once again with even louder cheering. My captors appeared all around me, whips and nets in hand. They approached me, petrified at what I could do to them. However I made no attempt to stop them; I knew my time for glory was over for now. Still, it did not prevent me from enjoying my kill.
I kept my teeth sunk into him. Once again, the greatest beasts defeated the greatest men.
User Reviews
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-03-02 23:52:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
* gasp * I'm being linkwhored?? How glorious! O, happy day!
I clued into the lion thing about halfway through. It was a good take on the scene. Your vocabulary is really good, and there were some nice descriptions, but there were times where I felt it was overdone, and a little too wordy. Cool post. I feel honored.
Submitted by Val (user info) at 2005-03-02 10:52:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're my boy, Blue!
Submitted by Fleadh (user info) at 2005-03-02 08:47:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I also figured it was a lion or tiger after the first circling discription
Submitted by WildcatMcGee (user info) at 2005-03-02 08:43:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah, the flow was a little off but it was good.
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2005-03-02 08:23:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I dunno why, but I twigged on to the lion bit as I started reading, but it didn't detract from the story at all. With your verbal imagery I could just picture this lion laying down some serious whoopit in the ring. Fantastic stuff.
Oh, and 'cos I'm childish: Woohoo! Bestiality in the missionary posish. Or some such comment...
Submitted by knucklesnelson (user info) at 2005-03-02 08:03:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Leonfc (user info) at 2005-03-02 07:48:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm by no means an expert but I found it a bit jerky - I didn't feel that it flowed as well as it could do. +2 cos I liked the story though.