The Colosseum

The Ripper

The ground starts to decline, and the air grows colder and colder. A freezing humidity clings to my skin, which is quite unusual for someone who grew up around nothing but sand and a river. A crazed part of me wonders if the fog is made from the ghosts of those who have passed away, hugging me to try and comfort me. Or suffocate me because if they died, then why should anyone else live? I shiver to shake off my superstitions, and simply because I'm chilly.

"Halt," the keeper instructs. Not daring to piss him off any further, I freeze in my spot at the drop of a hat. Heavy footsteps slowly come near me, and when I feel someone right in front of my body, my blindfold is ripped off. "You're already on my bad side," the keeper alerts, dark brown eyes looking unforgiving. He teases a toothpick between his lips and clicks his jaw, which is covered in patchy scruff. "You'll pay for that..." An eruption of cheers and applause emote from...above us? "That's the fighting tier. Someone's just died. I guess you'll get your punishment sooner than I thought."

Great. Now I've really done it.

Once everyone's blindfolds are removed, the keeper paces up and down our line of hostages, each of us connected at our handcuffs via a thick chain. Our ages range from toddlers to middle-aged adults. "Here's how things work around here. You'll be trained in our gladiator school after your first fight. We don't want to waste our time on born losers." Pointedly, he looks at me, and I'm so startled by the coldness in his eyes that I freeze. Hopefully I just look stoic. "After that, the typical schedule each day includes three segments of fights: animal versus animal, man versus animal, and man versus man. Every night or between segments, Mr. Deveraux will hold an event that will undoubtedly be stuffed with reporters so you can be turned into a digestible television series. You are required to attend those. You'll be sleeping in underground bunkers and your meals will be provided. Understood? No? Your loss."

The keeper turns on his heels and heads to the front of our line, where he urges the leader forwards. Behind the front of our line, we all trudge on, footsteps dragging in dread. "During the fight, you'll be given one weapon," the crass man continues as we near a spot in this underground tunnel with sunlight streaming inside. "With it, you're required to meet the blood quota of one gallon. Whether it comes from yourself or your opponent doesn't matter."

"The blood quota was real?" the girl in front of my whispers, craning her neck to see around the others a bit better. Her blonde waves swish as she steps side to side, trying to get a glimpse of others' reactions. "No way..."

So it really was true. Not only will I die, but it'll be a slow death. How dreamy.

We finally reach the spot of sun, which is a couple degrees warmer than the rest of the tunnel. The gap in the wall leads to a steep incline dusted with sand. A silhouette emerges from the blinding brightness, with shoulders so broad that they could touch both ends of the Pacific Ocean. I hear his ragged breathing before I can see his face, and it's then that I understand he's just won his fight. I don't know whether to feel happy for him or revulsed by his ability to murder.

As he enters the shade, I can make out his features. Sandy blonde hair clipped above his ears is shaken out, spraying dirt everywhere like he's a wet dog. He wears casual clothes – a sleeveless shirt and basketball shorts – as if he's about to meet up with friends for some ball. As he veers around the corner, he passes me. For a moment, we make eye contact. I've never seen eyes like his: two irises, both shades of a silvery blue that seem to glow in the darkness. They'd be beautiful, if his long lashes weren't clotted together in blood. His tan arms could be admired for their ropey muscles, if they weren't slathered in blood. His clothes would look comfortable, if they weren't soaked in scarlet death, clinging to his body. Alarmingly, there seems to be nothing wrong with this competitor – he entered and left this ring unscathed.