Rockstar Gladiators

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
How realistic is fantasy? The lines blur in the eyes of a boy whose only means of escape from a broken home are his toys.

Submitted: March 31, 2012

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Submitted: March 31, 2012




"Battle to the Death!" came a voice from the loudspeaker. The gladiators below engaged in combat thrusting swords with slices of flesh pinned to the tip of their blades. Blood spewed forth in every direction, faces all similarly painted with scarlet iron.

"And now, release the mosquitoes" came the same voice.

A swarm of insects were released through a vent in the ceiling encasing... the entire group of fighters in antics. They ran and rolled, and those with enough stubbornness prevailed as they sliced those unable to tolerate such nuisance. Only three men remained in studded armor. Their chain mail clanked against itself as they knuckles turned white from grip and their faces boiled with pulsating veins. Insects kept landing on them- sucking away their essence, yet it did not matter for their adrenaline overcame any pain. One of the three with long golden hair had a piece of his jaw missing, and yet, he still stood menacingly with a wicked smile. His teeth were missing, at leas the front displayed a hole which allowed his tongue to dangle so carelessly through his gaping jaw.

The silence broke as he sprinted with his sword aimed forward and penetrated the shield of one of the other two. Stuck and unable to remove his sword, the attacked swordsman sliced the arm off the foolish jawless man. Unable to scream for gurgles of asphyxiating liquid was all that was heard as he was finished with a stomp to the throat. Only two men remained- One with brown short hair and the other lacking hair, or perhaps it was his helmet which shielded its appearance.

"Very well, and now, release the SERPENT!" boomed the loudspeaker with an echo resonating through the jagged and sharp stadium walls. Knifes and rusty nails stuck out from the walls and in a crevice, a long red worm stuck out. At the edge it split into two paths, and retreated back into the crack.

"My apologies, the door is jammed, and now, THE SERPENT!" came the voice again.

Two slabs wall collapsed with an explosion and from the dust emerged a creature with armor plated scales and poison coated teeth sharper and longer than the two men's adjoined height.

"oh fuck" came the brunette.

the seemingly bald man smiled. "it seems we must work together, Jangesh"

A mutual agreement was forced before the brunette could accept as the serpet spit spikes which projected themselves towawrds the brunette, piercing his throat. His face turned pale than the veins became sapphire as his eyes bled the pupils into erosion.

"I guess it's just me" Jangesh cackled.



"Timmy get down here right now"! Came a shrilled voice from another room.

The frail looking boy placed his figurines on the floor as he uttered, "Ill have to continue this story some other time".

Downstairs in the basement the parents were waiting for their child.

In the room was a table with hardly any food to feed a single person, and it was divided between the three of lot. THe father sat down and in prayer thanked the gods for damning his position. He was drunk, and his wife asked him to respect the name of the lord. Of course this was rejected as she was smacked across the floor until Timmy yelled, "Stop it you're just an evil person, you don't hurt women ever"!

"Oh yeah? You think you're a man? I'll show you what a man is" the drunkard said as he took his belt off and began whelping the boy into a cry of whimpers which fell to silence. His arm was tired, and he was out of breath, he said, "Alright now that the boy is taken care of, go to the bedroom and wait for me, i'm not done with you" He said to his wife. She sobbed as she ran to the bedroom, passing him without starring at his face. The drunkard scratched his crotch and burped before removing the scraps of food from all three plates and gorged on them greedily. He kicked the boy one last time before retreated into the bedroom where the pleas of a desperation echoed into the night. Hunger awoke the boy as he woke up to a throbbing head. He retreated into his room and saw his toys on the floor. They were all broken, all but one toy, the gladiator who survived in his story.

"Jangesh you survived!" he exclaimed as he ran expediently to scoop up his possession. He saw the broken toys and saw the attempt to destroy Jangesh but it's metal exoskeleton was too complex for a drunkard to obliterate. Or perhaps he got bored, the boy thought.


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