In the Arena - Part 4

In the Arena - Part 4

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__________________________________________________ The Reluctant Victor

The crowd jeered at the fighters, hungry for blood and impatient with the slow pace of the drawn out battle.  Truth was that the fighters were lovers and neither wanted to kill the other. 

The rules were simple, fight to the death.
If any fighters refused to fight, they will be executed.

They had talked all day about the match tonight.  As the matches progressed, they knew that they each had two opponents each before they would be up against each other. Both were excellent fighters and would be an extremely tough team to beat.  Under normal circumstances that team would already be together fighting side-by-side but there was an element of jealousy at play.  Shaw, the arena master found the two fighters especially desirable  and wanted them both for himself.  Saban and Roland had rebuffed his attempts to make them his personal trophies, desiring rather to have each other.  Their rejection of Shaw had brought them to this moment.

They had just received their first, and only warning of the match.  Kill quickly or die slowly.
They had seen what it means to die slowly. The victim would be tied to a stake after which he would have his gut slashed below the navel.  The guard would reach into the wound and grab a handful of guts and pull them outside the body, dropping them to the sandy ground.  Usually the intestines would unravel and spill out around the victim's feet and legs. There was often only a little bleeding and the victim would be left tied there while his insides dried out in the hot sun. Sometimes they would pour honey in the wound to invite ants in to do their work on the still living flesh.

Saban grabbed Roland's blade and placed it against his chest, over his heart.
"Quickly, push.  Push hard!"
"No, I can't." Roland protested.
"You must, or we both die the slow death."

Pulling the blade, Saban stepped toward his love. Grabbing Roland's wrist, he pulled him toward himself, forcing the blade through his body until the hilt jammed against his chest.
Now grabbing Roland's shoulder, he pulled him even closer looking into his deep brown eyes for the last time until their lips met.

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Victory Shout

Gut stabbed and broken jaw, the wounded warrior crawled to the edge of the arena ready to offer himself to his opponent for the death blow.  His opponent shows no mercy or allows him no dignity as he kicks the dying warrior's arms from under him and ferociously drives the long steel blade through his body, scattering sparks from the stone floor.

The victory shout resounded in the fallen warrior's ears as darkness and silence surrounded him.

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Fallen Retiarius

Still entangled in his own net, the  young warrior lay silently, waiting to be carried off to be disposed of.

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Deadly Comeback.

Having been gored by his more muscular opponent we assumed that we would see the unlucky fighter be dispatched by the stronger fighter. As he moved in for the kill however...

Using what strength he had left, the wounded fighter struck the death blow first.

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Speared

Cooling off in the water he never expected what happened when he closed his eyes.

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Carving through the throat.

The squabble between the two young recruits seemed innocent enough.

Until the blood gushed into the sand.

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Quick Kill

Taking full advantage of the young trainee's inexperience, Martin chose him to be the next object lesson.

He did not suffer long.

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Terror from Behind

The fight raged on, scattering bystanders and destroying tables and chairs as they succumbed to the weight of the two fighters.
Pulling his knife, David drove it into Jack's back.
Turning quickly, Jack tried to fend off his attacker but David got the advantage by wrapping his arms around Jack's throat.

Pulling him tight against his body, David pressed his abs against the knife until it tore out through Jack's chest.  The high pitched scream would be the last thing anyone would ever hear from Jack.

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Retiarius

The Retiarius stumbled backward having taken a foot to the groin when he attacked the Secutor, jabbing him in the side with his trident. Tangling his feet in his own net he found himself falling to the ground followed by the expert thrust of his opponent's gladus.

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Dying

One of the first to fall to the sword, Paul dropped to his knees and bent over, fighting for every breath while the others fought it out.

As the crowd watched in near silence, Neilus walked up to Paul and spoke softly to him.
"You have fought well, my brother.  Now go to your reward."
Grabbing the sword by the handle, Neilus slowly pulled until the blade came loose and silently slid from the gaping wound followed by a strong stream of dark blood.  Paul shivered as he tried to look up at his brother's face, smiled briefly and fell over to the bloody ground.

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Murdered

C'mon guy, You're up next." the short guard barked as he opened the door.
"Shit!"
There on the bed, sprawled out, naked, was the powerful body of the reigning champion gladiator.

 His muscled, toned body was relaxed, his spear lay across his body and a knife stood erect in his chest with a small trickle of blood escaping from around the blade.
This champion will retire undefeated - at least not in the arena.

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Speared

Getting prepared for his turn in the arena, yet another contestant meets with an early demise.

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Thrust Through

The end came quickly for Daniel.As he turned to attack his foe, the fighter grabbed Daniel's left wrist and pulled.  Daniel struggled to escape his grip but quickly felt the tip of the sword in his armpit. One more powerful yank and the sabre quickly carved it's way through and out the other side, both lungs and his heart pierced through.

A momentary struggle was all that he could manage and his head quickly fell limp to the ground and his pain was forever gone.










409036

In the Arena

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Ancient Rome style Battle-to-the-Death competition.
In an alternate reality, Rome never quite fell.
The games continue!
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Bare Hands
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The hapless victim jerked uncontrollably once, and then relaxed in his arms.

His primal urge fulfilled. Having killed many with sword and knife, even arrows, Dagon realized the awesome thrill of brute force unarmed battle and the heady satisfaction of wrenching his opponent's neck until the loud crack and the sudden release of resistance. The hapless victim jerked uncontrollably once, and then relaxed in his arms.
______________________________________________ Revenge in the alley. ______________________________________________ Rusty walked toward the stage entrance to the arena. Tonight was round three of the finals of the Gladiator of the Year series. He had succeeded in eliminating all opponents up to now. He was ready for whatever may come his way. Confident and fit, he was a favorite of most viewers and was expected to win again tonight. He was thinking about tonight's challengers, going over their moves and weaknesses in his mind. "Shouldn't be too hard tonight." he thought to himself as he turned up the narrow passageway to the door.

"You murdering bastard!" he heard the voice behind him. Drawing his weapon and turning to confront the owner of the voice, he recoiled as his attacker charged into him, driving a sword through his chest. "You killed my brother! You bastard, You could have let him live but you killed him!" The man pushed the sword into Rusty until it emerged from his back. "Unhhhh!" he groaned. The attacker kept pushing.
"You die tonight!" he screamed "You had won. He was wounded he surrendered, threw down his sword, but you killed him just to show off!" Rusty reached up and grabbed for the man's shirt. "I took his sword with me, I swore I'd run you through with it tonight. I got you, You're dead, you..*Aaaaagggghhhh!!" - Rusty plunged his blade into the guy's gut. Again... "Arrrgggghhhh!"

Ripping upward, Rusty tore through him from his beltline to his chest, opening a huge gash that only stopped as the blade logded behind his ribs. Yanking the blade free, Rusty stepped back, leaning against the wall. His attacker doubled over clutching at his chest as blood poured from his body to the walkway, spreading out rapidly.

Rusty started sliding down the wall, the sword tip scraping the wall behind him as he dropped. Dazed and weak, he watched as his attacker fell into the bloody puddle and vomited yet more blood.
His mind raced back to the competition last week. He remembered the match when the man's brother surrendered. The judges gave him a thumbs down! The choice wasn't his...

"Oh my God! Rusty! Can you hear me?" he heard the security guard running his way. "What happened here?"
"Don't move!" he ordered. "I'll get help...."
Consciousness faded as the sound of more feet hurried his way.


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Jason - Killed by Trident
Jason staggered back, stunned at being hit full force in the chest with the heavy Roman shield, and fell to the sandy arena floor. His sword landed out of reach and now he was totally unarmed. Trying to regain his footing, he started to get up and was hit again with the heavy shield falling, this time on all fours. Searing pain ripped through his body as the big warrior stabbed at him with his trident and tore his back open before he could get up.

Spinning around attempting to see where his attacker would strike next, he was met with another stab of the forked weapon. This time Jason had nowhere to go and he took the thrust full in the chest and the ten inch barbed tines disappeared onto his heaving chest. He was pulled off the ground as the huge warrior tried to remove his weapon but dropped to the sand again as the barbs dug into flesh and refused to let go.

Discarded as so much trash, Jason stared up toward the sun as the light and the battle around him began to fade. He watched as a spear point emerged from his killer's chest and his killer's blood poured into the sand and mingled with his own. He smiled as his own life ended knowing that his death was already avenged.



______________________________________________ Jason's Killer - Speared from Behind
Xander flinched as Jason's sword wounded his arm but he was only slightly wounded. Bracing himself he jammed his shield against his opponent with all his weight knocking him back and causing him to lose his grip on his sword. Before he could get up, Xander drove his shield into him again and Jason stumbled to his hands and knees in the sand.

Jabbing at him with his trident, Xander stabbed Jason in the lower back, and he ripped the barbed trident viciously, tearing three jagged wounds wide and bleeding. Jason yelped with pain and turned quickly to face his attacker. Ready to strike, Xander drove his trident deep into Jason's chest. The stunned warrior fell back to the sand and clutched at his chest. Xander yanked the weapon again but it was too deep to be retrieved and he picked the doomed warrior up from the sand as the barbs embedded themselves in his chest with mortal finality. Dropping the fallen foe at his feet, he smiled down as Jason squinted upward at him in the bright sun.

Suddenly his victory lost it's glory as, with a single plunge, a spear point erupted from his chest, splattering his own blood on Jason's dying form at his feet. Xander dropped to his knees mere inches from Jason who smiled at the sight of the spear through Xander's chest as he gasped his last breath.

Looking around, bewildered at his fate, Xander finally saw a tall figure come up on his right. The spearman watched his victim with pride, knowing that he had killed his friend's killer. He raised his sword to strike Xander down but Xander's head tilted back, he coughed once, spitting blood down his chin and then toppled over dead at his feet with his face buried in the sand between Jason's knees.


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Headstrong and fired up, Michael was eager to get into the arena again. Twelve kills already and he was headed for the all time championship of twenty-one victories. Being a left handed fighter, he found it easy to overcome most of his opponents because they were so unaccustomed to left handed fighters.

"Don't do it!" Wes pleaded as he headed for the ring. "This is number thirteen!"

The legend had grown because so many fighters lost their thirteenth battle. Michael shrugged it off. "I'm not superstitious - they were." He protested. "I'll take this guy down like all the rest."

Stepping into the ring, the ref handed Michael the weapon. A beautiful curved silver and black knife, heavy and deadly, with nearly ten full inches of blade.

He raised the blade in his left hand to the cheers of the crowd.

Turning to his young opponent he watched as the ref handed him his weapon, which he raised to the crowd - in his left hand!



The burning pain coursed through his body as he waited. Dying was a lot like he had imagined it would be. He hoped that his victor would finish him. Better to die with a thrust to the heart than to slowly drown in your own blood. His heaving chest found each breath bringing new pain and less much needed air.
The winner danced his way out of the ring, and he waited. Slowly the pain began to fade. The arena grew very dark and the crowd seemed very far away. "Thirteen." he thought. "Damn thirteen."

The cleanup crew roughly threw him on the cart and started wheeling him out of the arena. Stopping at the edge of the platform one of the men grabbed the knife from his hand and handed it back to the ref. He then ripped the blade from his side and handed that one over as well. Michael's body arched with pain as his blood gushed from the gash. In a few seconds his ordeal was finally over and they wheeled his lifeless body from the arena.


______________________________________________ Watching for my opponent to show some weakness, I noticed him blocking with his arm as if he were used to wearing some kind of shield or armor.
That was all I needed. My next thrust not only crippled his arm but wounded him in the abs as well.

The next step was simple. Take his tanto from his crippled hand and shove it in his gut - over and over and over as he fell to the floor finally, and to the cheers of the crowd, one final thrust up under his ribs and the horrified look on his face began to relax for the last time.


______________________________________________ I was getting tired, this match had gone on too long. We were both good but "the company" doesn't like long, drawn out battles. Bad for ratings, and ratings is what brings the money in. I watched the network exec whispering to our manager and that is never good. We might be target practice for a squad of archers if this match isn't concluded soon, and with something for the people to talk about at the water coolers tomorrow. Remus was using his katana, which he was real good with but in almost twenty minutes of fighting, neither of us had yet drawn blood.

The studio lights were hot and I was starting to hear the blood pounding in my ears. I needed a drink of water. There were two fountains in the arena set and I started working my way around Remus to get him to back up toward the nearest one, hoping to be able to get some of their water on me, and maybe grab a quick gulp in the process.

The water took Remus completely by surprise. He backed directly into one of the columns and stumbled backwards against the fake rock wall that was the backdrop for tonight's matches. The powerful stream must have stung his balls and distracted him. The next move splashed water in his face and eyes. Grabbing the first advantage that I had in this match, I charged in toward him and thrust my sword deep into his chest.
The crowd jumped to their feet! Remus staggered forward as the weight of my sword pulled him down. I grabbed my sword again and with a swinging twist, ripped the it from his chest slicing through his heart and lungs and opening a huge gash. The gaping hole gushed a huge amount of blood as he toppled back into the water. In a few seconds the whole fountain was pouring bright red streams of bloody water that looked awesome to the bloodthirsty viewers nationwide. I was suddenly a hero and a victor. At least I won't end up in front of a firing squad of archers next week.


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Knocking his weapon from his hand, I grabbed his arm and wrenched it around behind him. I heard his elbow pop as it came out of joint. He yelled with pain and reached back with his other arm to try to escape my grasp. I reached down to grab his crotch from behind and immediately thrust my sword into his back with all the strength I could muster, lifting him completely off the floor. Up through his back, out his chest and tearing into his jaw and out his mouth, all the time squeezing and fondling his balls. The crowd erupted with wild screaming cheers. I held him up as long as I could, holding him by his balls and the sword. Awesome!
What a Kill! What a thrill!



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Standing still, eyes closed, Gil savored the sensations flooding his body. It didn't hurt as much as he expected it would, but, it was oddly as erotic to be the one stabbed as it was to be the stabber. Now he knew, at last, what so many others had felt at his hand. Would his opponent finish him? His mind raced as he thought about thrusting his knife into his opponent's gut as soon as he got within reach. . .



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Goren saw his chance and grabbed for his opponent's wrist. Quickly stepping around behind him he twisted Jay's wrist until the blade was aimed at his gut.
Yanking his wrist suddenly and with brutal force, Gorn succedded in stabbing Jay with his own knife. Now he held Jay by the throat. Jay closed his eyes and waited. The second blade plunged deep into his chest above his right pec, the second thrust was delivered to his right side - to the hilt in Jay's kidney, Goren then slammed his hand on Jay's weapon, driving it to the hilt in his navel. Pulling the blade from Jay's side, he held the point over Jay's heart. Ever so slowly he pressed the blade into Jay's chest, prolonging the agony and putting off the moment of death as long as possible. Goren was really enjoying this The blade tip reached Jay's pounding heart, Goren held it there, poking the beating muscle with every beat, grinning at Jay's agony. Watching the pain in his face, he was unaware of what Jay was doing. With one last desperate move, Jay pulled the blade from his navel and thrust upward with the bloody blade.

Thrust through the heart Goren stiffened with pain. He had been so entranced with Jay's agony, now he too was to die. "Yeaaahhhggggghhhhhh!" he screamed as he pressed down on his knife and drove his blade fully into Jay's chest, finishing his life, just as he too died.



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The kid was lost before he started. How he got through the tryouts is beyond me. Yago was brutal and never let up. I think he tried to get the kid mad enough to fight back but all that he did was cower in fear. Even a fist to the face didn't work. The crowd started booing and then it was over.

"Kill the coward!" " Gut the little pussy!" "Get him out'a here!"

Holding him up against the wall, Yago looked to the judges.

Thumbs down!

The kid's eyes pleaded for mercy.
Mercy came by the expert thrust through the heart from behind.
"AAAaagggg unghhhh" He screamed as the blade emerged from his chest.
He dropped his sword, clutched at his chest and sank to his knees.

Yago ripped the sword upward and out, and the kid fell across his sword on the ground dead almost before he landed.

A mix of cheers and boos filled the air as Yago pranced around the arena in victory.




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Just a quick grab to stimulate them both.
How does it feel to have a man die with his balls in your hand?




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Resigned to His Fate





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Three Seconds
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I couldn't believe it! The match lasted only three seconds!!!
I had thousands riding on that damn usless idiot! Look at that!
One quick perry and a thrust and it's over and my money gone with him!.

"Finish him off!" I shouted. "Put the useless punk down!"
I wanted to run onto the arena floor and do it myself!
"Kill him! Don't let him live, dammit!"


Go to Part 2
Go to "What's New" page  

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"Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once."
 from the play Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare.

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