Vigilante: Adventures Of An African Hero [COMPLETED]

[Sixteen] A Friend's Help

Romeo leaned on the wall inside his cell. Dry blood splattered across his chest and face. The slaves who chose not to get involved in the competition sat at the far end of the cell, looking at Romeo as though he was a monster. There was a monitor outside their cell that allowed them to watch the fight, and they feared the young Tanzanian after what they saw him do.

The cell's gate rumbled as it moved to the side. Two guards entered and stood in front of Romeo. "Get up," one of them said.

"Do I look like I can do that?" Romeo's wounds hadn't been treated, courtesy of Capt. Davis and Mr. Wallace.

Both guards took out their electric batons. "I won't ask again."

Already in pain, Romeo had no intentions of getting electrocuted and beaten up by them. He groaned as he placed his hands on the wall, using it as support to stand up. He was exhausted, and asking him to walk was a chore.

"Who's asking for me?" Romeo asked.

"Don't ask questions."

After fifteen minutes of walking, they arrived outside a red steel door. It had the old school round doorknob. The new ones had finger print scanners on them and slid to the side when opened, but he was in an old stadium, so it made sense some things weren't changed.

"Go inside," the only guard who spoke said.

Romeo looked at them from the corner of his eye and wondered if it was a plot set by Mr. Wallace and Capt. Davis to get him killed after he embarrassed them. But the only way he'd know for sure was by going inside. 

He sighed, then opened the door. As he walked inside, he could hear cheers and jeers coming from the crowd in the arena. It was a small room once he got a proper look at it, with the wall colored orange and paintings of Mr. Wallace hung on it.

There was a man seated on the only couch in the room. It was cozy, having a standing AC and a small fridge for beverages. The man was looking at one of the paintings. "Wallace loves himself too much," he said. 

"Is that why I'm here? To talk about about paintings?" Romeo asked.

The man chuckled, then faced Romeo. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a matching newsboy cap on his head. "No wonder Wallace and Davis hate you, you says whatever is on your mind." He smiled, revealing his yellowish teeth. "I like that." He gave out a hand. "I'm Gideon."

Romeo shook it. "Romeo."

"Romeo," Gidoen placed a hand on Romeo's injured shoulder, "would you like to get out of here?"

"I earned my freedom. I hope that's what happens." Romeo groaned and moved his shoulder downwards, hoping Gideon would move his hand away. Gideon took cue and did so. Romeo walked to the open window. He could see the arena clearly. There were two fighters left; a big man and a small one. He counted eight bodies on the ground. A ten man fight? Wallace is crazy. He must have done it to get the crowd on his side after they began to boo him for failing to get me killed.

Gideon stood besides him. "The Mexican boy is a true fighter," he said.

"Mexican boy?" Romeo only knew one with the same will and determination as him. Gomez. "Is the other guy a Russian with a snake tattoo?"

"Yes."

Oh, no. He knew Capt. Davis must have done this on purpose, knowing the two were friends. This was his way of punishing Romeo.

Romeo put his hands on his eyes and used them as goggles. He saw Gomez being lifted in the air before he was thrown to the ground. The Russian was taking his time killing him. He had to give the crowd a good show.