When in Rome, Entertain as the Romans Do

Gladiatorial Scene One-Shot

By Kokeshi088

Author's Note: This, here...is a one-shot event I wrote on AIM! I wrote it to contest my skills at imagery against her. Well, I scared her. She was freaked out at my level of skill...see, I now am able to kick up my stories up a notch. It's because when I'm not writing, I'm stupid. And...yeah. She tells me I'm skilled, and all, but, I can't be that selfish and brag now, can I? So please drop in a review! I don't want to become selfish, but I certainly enjoy the praise!

A spiked heel in his stomach, the gladiator Gilliam screamed in pain. It has been like this for the last twenty minutes since the start of the match. Bruised till he could be bruised no more, the brutal reality of Roman entertainment shocked him, not that it should, and Romans just seemed to embrace killing and fighting. It was truly horrific, a nightmare unlike any other. His enemy, another like himself, named Phoebus, was in armor, unofficial champion of the brutal games at the Coliseum. It was no fair match.

Gilliam's stomach bled, hemorrhaging, and bursting, fat and gut spilling all over Phoebus' bronze, spiked boot. "Are you done yet?" Phoebus taunted. Gilliam didn't understand. Gilliam was just a prisoner, captured by the Spartans, he never understood a word of Latin. Phoebus laughed, mocking Gilliam's lack of comprehension.

His...his end isn't too soon, I bet... unlike... I thought Gilliam, even his thoughts were broken up, as if he no longer had the strength to think. Then, Phoebus raised his Roman dagger, a small, sharp blade, gleaming in the blinding sunlight, ready to strike. Gilliam pitifully struggled, groaning in pain, his blood spattering against the wall. He coughed up more blood, choking. Then, as if he could feel no more pain, Gilliam was stabbed.

Against the limestone wall of the bloody ring, where Emperors watched, and crowds cheered and booed, where all who could pay Roman money could be entertained by Roman gore, and a symbol of Roman majesty, the Coliseum was anything but, to those who fought within its center ring.

"I am free..." whispered Gilliam, in his strange tongue, he choked on his final words, and died. Nobody would mourn or care about him, as he just died, against the wall, frail and weak, bloody and tired, tortured and beaten. There are no tears for the dead at the Roman Coliseum, no, the dead are mocked, and the murderers are cheered.

End Note: This was written during one AIM session, and since my computer's near the television, my father just happened to be watching something on the Roman Coliseum. I actually like this one-shot, despite its tragic end. Please, as I asked, review.