.\V/. The Gladiator .\V/. Mar 24, 2011 20:18:17 GMT
Post by Tim E. Vortex on Mar 24, 2011 20:18:17 GMT
12th July 65 BC
The sun was bright. I had firsthand knowledge of this as I was laid on my back, writhing in agony. Particles of dust still scattered around in the air from my collision with the dirty ground. The faint sound of cheers could be heard pulsing in time with my wounded heart’s beating as a shadowy figure leered over me. I prayed that he was the comforting doctor as I rested in a hospital bed, but alas, it was too good to be true. As my eyesight was restored to me, I distinguished his apparel consisting of a red robe and bronze armour to be that of a Roman soldier. I am fortunate that I had recognised this; else I may not have budged an inch from the glimmering sword that was slicing its way through the air towards me. I rolled out of the way and climbed to one knee. The beast let out a roar as he swung the sword at me again and, in my finest Bond moment, I leapt to one side in a tremendous forward roll that brought me to my feet. Chaos surrounded me. I briefly surveyed by whereabouts as my memory returned. I was in Italy’s Colosseum, where the filled pack of lions where roaring. To avoid confusion, I should point out that I was indeed speaking metaphorically. Despite the numerous deaths that have occurred over the last thirty minutes or so, I was proud to be one of the final two combatants remaining and I would have adored to bask in this for a little longer if not for the animal chasing me.
“Couldn’t we settle this over a nice cup of tea?”
I proposed in desperation. Obviously, I wasn’t expecting him to withdraw his weapon and replace it with China’s finest pottery, but it was worth asking just in case. I looked around for a weapon of my own and at this point, I noticed my shoelace was undone. On occasion, curses can often become gifts, and in this instance, my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder proved to be a Godsend. I bent down to string my laces together, narrowly avoiding the blade that swept over my head.
“I have some superb biscuits to go with it,[/color]”
I helplessly pleaded, although it appeared to be aggravating him. I shot up off my knee with my right hand clenched into a perfect fist and planted it in his lower jaw, causing him to stumble back. This gave me enough time to pick up a sword that an unsuccessful competitor wouldn’t be needing and as he swung his, I was able to protect myself. I would have smiled, but the voice in my head was constantly screaming “I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die!” Not the best time for schizophrenia to become present. I had observed in motion pictures a way of disarming my opponent and so, in twirling my sword, his went flying through the air.
“Thank you, Zorro,[/color]”
I sighed in relief before pointing my sword at his neck; however, I distinctly recall my blade having some admirable weight to it. Oh, dear... I dropped it. He charged at my like a bull. The air in my lungs forced its way out of my aching body as his shoulder was rammed into my stomach, pushing me back. My heels dug into the ground in an attempt to halt the beast and eventually he stopped. I panicked and grab hold of his arms. He tried to spin out of it, but I kept hold. I tripped and crashed down onto the floor below, wincing as I believed that this contest was at its end and I would not surface as the victor. However, what I failed to realise is that when I fell, his head was planted firmly onto the hard ground. The spectators were cheering as they fully believed the act was intentional. Like al great inventions, it was an accident that I would later go on to call the Time Warp. I dragged myself up and regained my weapon. I looked around and spotted a clearing in the seating. It was here where I saw one of the most evil men I had encountered and the devil that had imprisoned me, although his name was not mentioned to be at this point. The audience grew silent, waiting for his decision. The man stepped forward and held out his fist. He then dropped his thumb downwards and the crowd erupted once more, leading me to think that his action insinuates that I be responsible for another human being. I travel for the experience and the tourism, not for death and destruction. One act out of place could change the course of history and Back to the Future has lead me into thinking it is not the wisest of ideas. I turned my back on the Emperor and began my journey through the tunnel to the back. It was here where I was greeted impolitely by Cuntius, the slave trader. He was how you’d expect him to be – a plump gentlemen with a stained shirt whom is seldom seen without some sort of cooked animal in his greasy hands.
“My part of the deal is complete, and so I expect you to uphold to the bargain. My watch,[/color]”
I demanded as I held out my hand. He stared at me with wide eyes.
“You just turned your back on Julius Caesar. You’re dead,[/color]”
He giggled without hesitation. I later discovered that this was an act of incredible offence, punishable by death. This was indeed confirmed by the herd of Roman soldiers that were marching towards me.
“Cuntius, my watch![/color]”
I snapped in fear.
“It’s not gonna be much use to you now. I could get quite a good price for this,[/color]”
He grinned. I did not have time for this, though I should have expected it. He took the watch from me when I was captured and he told me that upon my survival as a gladiator, it shall be returned to me. I tend not to be so judgemental, but he doesn’t look like the sort of person one can trust. The soldiers pursued me and my execution was already decided, therefore nothing that I did from this point could make that any worse. I punched Contius as the soldiers pursued me. I rummaged through his pockets and found my treasured belonging and retrieted. I ran down the hallways where fellow prisoners allowed me to pass until I came to a dead end. I nervously fiddled with my watch, unable to consider the controls as the men hurtled towards me. A spear lunged at my chest and I quickly pushed down on watch’s button as I closed my eyes to avoid witness to my own demise.
Upon opening them, I took a breath of relief. In all my travels, I have hitherto come to a call as close as that and I thanked the stars for my safety. I looked down at the watch and at the random input. I then surveyed the cracked walls of where I now stood, a long corridor.