▂ ▃ ▅ ▆ █ We the Gladiators █ ▆ ▅ ▃ ▂

The roar of the crowd was the only thing I could focus on. There was nothing else that my mind would settle with. A combination of boos and cheers swarmed the arena. A mixed pang of distress and self-consciousness fill my entirety. I knew that each jeer was towards me, and not the opponent. Every single one of these watchers wish for my defeat. My crucial demise. They despise me. And that’s the very reason for me being here, in this coliseum.

Weighted shackles keep my arms drooped and my legs heavy. The silver restraints blare against the sun, causing me to squint. With even the slightest action they clink and clank, the chains creating an annoying noise. Such a sound reverberates through my skull, and constantly reminds me of the fact that I am a prisoner. Around both wrists and ankles, my movements are more than restricted, placing the inevitable fight into the enemy’s favor.

Well, that is, until it happens.

My eyes shift from left to right, absorbing the surroundings. This is my first time in the arena, despite me being a prisoner for nearly ten years now. I truly have lost track of time. But there is absolutely no minute to waste thinking about the past. At the moment, I must focus fully on the task at hand.

A solid ground is composed of what could possibly be concrete with dirt piled on top. I am aware of what is beneath my feet. Hundreds of cells in which the people like me, prisoners like me, live. Surrounding the centered arena are three stories of stands, which form an oval shape. But, just below the stone viewing points are indestructible steel doors. I had come out of the opening behind me. I could still remember the uneven wooden steps that had brought me up here. That musty darkness that encased me along the way. It was all fresh in my memory.

Abruptly, the heavy door that is yards in front of me slides up. The shadows inside seem to creep forward at an attempt to stretch for me. But a figure steps out and the shadows are cut off as the door slams shut. With every step he takes, the earth rumbles and quakes. My attention rests on this man. This opponent. This enemy. This obstacle.