Short Stories

To The Death

      I shook in my boots as I stood behind the gate that would open into the arena. My mouth was dry. I was about 16, I had thick bronzy hair that was braided with bones. I was wearing armor of sorts, a hide top with plated shoulders and a hide skirt that came down to my knees decorated with bones and metal. My stomach was exposed, it was toned and my skin was a nice caramel color. I was going to battle someone, and if I won, I would have enough money to pay for all of my family's debt and have enough food so my family wouldn't starve. My parents nearly jumped for joy when they heard I would be battling to the death with someone instead of going to jail for stealing a loaf of bread for them. I was sure they would be watching me be slaughtered and cheer when I was dead. I hated them just as much. 

   I heard the crowd cheer as the first someone I would be battling step into the arena. There were hurried footsteps behind me and a slave shoved a light, small sword into my hands and scurry off. I studied the blade. Thicker, light, short, and sharp. The hilt was plain with leather wrapped around it. The gate separating me from the arena slowly lifted.

   The crowd roared when I stepped timidly into the arena. I faced my opponent and assessed him. Taller, large, bulky, big ego, longer sword. He was wearing nothing but a hide skirt and a heavy metal belt with leather sandals. My foot touched something as I walked to the center. I jumped aside and looked down. Bones, flesh, leather, and broken weapons littered the ground. I was terrified. 

   My opponent snarled at me. I could see a scar across his bicep as he flexed his muscles for show. The crowd quieted down as an announcer spoke, telling us that it was a fight to the death. The announcer counted down.

Five

Four

Three

Two

One....

Go!

    My opponent's battle cry echoed across the arena as he charged. I gripped my sword as I froze in fear. Need to move. Need to move. I ducked right as he swung his blade over my head. He grunted with the effort. I rolled to the side and picked up a broken spear and tossed it at him. He laughed as it went sailing past his head. I leaped at him and swung my sword as he was to busy laughing. It nicked his arm as he tried to dodge. I felt sick. I had felt the blade slice through his skin. Crimson liquid clung to my blade. I swallowed bile. He seemed nearly unaffected. He just growled and charged again. This time I ducked and sliced at his ankle. The blade dug into his calf and he roared in pain. I quickly rolled away as he swung down at me. Blood now spattered the ground around him. I shook as I saw the effect of my blade to his bare skin. 

  Blood gushed from his wound and covered his foot. He took a careful step forward, testing his leg. He put very little weight on it as he stalked forward. He swung at me and I blocked.A sharp sound was heard as our blades collided. He spat in my face and he pushed against my blade shoving me down. He swung and cut my shoulder. I screamed as the edges of my vision turned black. I heard him hefting his blade above his head for a killing blow.

    I gripped my sword harder and I took a weak swing at his arm. It simply distracted him enough for me to scramble to my feet. My vision had cleared as I charged forward slashing at his legs. I had nothing to lose, so why not take a risk. I nicked his thigh and his blade bounced off the plate on the top of my shoulder. I snarled and whipped around to jab at his back. He blocked my sword and swung at my arms. He hit my forearm and bit my lip as the pain jolted through my body.  We hacked and slashed at each other. Flesh splitting,blood oozing, bodies tiring. I clumsily blocked and he kicked at me, my tired body giving in. I fell to the ground. I gave out a pitiful cry as I hit the ground. I was covered in blood and sweat. I was heaving, my muscles screaming out in pain, shaking from the energy I was exerting.

He paused slightly as he looked down at pitiful me. I had almost given up. I thought I saw a hint of sorrow in his eyes as he lifted his blade to end this fight.

"Make it quick." I croaked. He gave me a stern look and motioned for me to stand. He waited as I stood shakily.He took a fighting stance as did I. He made the first move and we dove into battle again. He backed me into the wall. His blade grazed my exposed stomach. I almost collapsed, but instead, with the rest of my energy, swung hard at his arm, causing him to stumble, and jabbed at his stomach. My blade gouged his side as I missed his stomach. he kicked my blade out of my hands and it clattered to the ground. His large hands then went to my throat and pushed me against the wall. He had a fierce unforgiving look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." he whispered as a tear trailed down his dirt covered cheek and I choked. He gritted his teeth as he stabbed me near the heart. Light faded fast as the crowd cheered. He set me on the ground carefully and dropped his sword and lifted his arms taking in the crowds approval. Blood coated my hand as I gripped at my chest. The last thing I heard was the cheers of the crowd ringing in my ears.