Duel

    The Coliseum was busier than a bee hive. Souvenir vendors tried to hustle away their merchandise supporting the finalists at outrageous prices. People clothed in togas were in lines to run a few errands before settling down in their concrete seats. Everybody was ready for some action.

    Down in his room, Phil was being dressed by an assistant. The armor that was to protect him might weary his arms before the big fight. His archrival, Pete, was sure to be a challenge, but Phil knew he would overcome. The hatred for Pete flowed through Phil’s veins, and he knew that it would empower him to win. So far his helm, breastplate, gauntlets, and greaves had been put on and fastened. Many people were going to be watching because they knew that this gladiator match was going to be a particularly good one.

    Pete sat already fully armored. Broad sword and shield in hand, he motioned and mentally followed through all his parries and thrusts. He was ready to take on the challenger and felt ready for anything.

    Suddenly, the mass of people seated in the Coliseum roared as to summon the competitors. People started running to their seats as if drawn there by a magnet. They wanted to see some of the best fighting ever.

    Phil in his shiny suit marched proudly to the gate where he was to enter the giant arena. The long, crimson feathery plume danced in the wind as if to emphasize its contrast to the bright, bronzed armor with smooth contours. The gate before him cranked slowly as he emerged within the masses. He gazed around to see half of the attendants cheering him to victory. Then he marched to his designated corner to wait for the other.

    Pete strutted casually down the hall towards his entrance to the arena. As he passed by, people cowered back into corners and shadows to avoid his icy stare. The blackened armor held spikes that covered him from head to toe. His muscles bulged out of his arms like mountains. The gate cranked open for him, and he listened to the stadium’s cries. He ignored the cheers and glanced up at the section that was booing him. He snickered with an evil grin and the whole Coliseum was silenced. He proudly marched to his designated spot.

    Phil let his eyes relax on their own which took a minute, as long as it took Pete to reach his spot. Phil was awed at his rival’s armor and knew this would be a difficult match. The crowd in togas yelled in unison again, and the two gladiators knew it was time to begin.

    After a few more shouts, Phil decided to initiate the match. Finally, after a brief hesitation, the two mighty warriors, gleaming swords raised, eyes locked on one another, moved closer to the inevitable moment of truth. Clash! The swords met and held each other in a display of their masters’ strength. They barred their teeth as they backed off and dealt each other a few parries and thrusts. Every few times one would strike a blow on the other, denting the protective metal that surrounded each of their bodies. The crowds continued to cheer on their favorite competitor.

    Suddenly, the onlookers ceased all their cheering after a gasp in unison. In a bout of rage, Pete had spun around, sweeping his blade in a full 360 degree arc. Phil was too close to Pete to dodge out of the way. Phil made an attempt to remove himself from the sword’s path of destruction by leaping back, arms stretched straight up to achieve full momentum, which happened to be his mistake. A small patch of flesh shown between Phil’s girdle and breastplate, and Pete’s sword hewed straight through the unprotected abdomen. Phil’s eyes widened in disbelief. He suddenly felt lighter through the acute coolness that rushed through his open body. At the apex of his body’s flight, his torso twisted in such a way to allow him to view everything below him. He caught a glimpse of Pete’s evil grin and then the bloody sword Pete was just beginning sheath back in the scabbard at his waist. Then Phil’s expression changed to horror as the pain finally crawled through his nervous system as well as seeing his whole lower body lying amidst a pool of blood, his blood. As soon as his disassembled body hit the ground, he blacked out for the rest of eternity.

    The bystanders began to wail, and then amid the wails came a voice with a snobbish accent being amplified by a megaphone, "Cut! Cut! Stop the picture from rolling at once!" A cameraman at his side flipped a switch on the side of the camera with one hand, and with the other pulled out a cell phone to dial 911. Momentarily, policemen flooded through the doors of the Los Angeles Coliseum, every one with an assortment of rifles and handguns aimed at Pete. Pete continued to grin at his fallen rival. He seemed to ignore the law enforcement as they read him his rights. "Pity," he thought, "there are so many eyewitnesses. Otherwise I’d have dominated the movie empire! This way I’ll get 100 times the publicity in a fraction of the time!"

    The director looked over at the cameraman. "There go two of the best actors in the biz. Maybe next time we should use fake swords. What do you think?"
    "Eh," replied the cameraman, "maybe we just shouldn’t keep hiring such dire enemies."
    "Maybe, but it sure will be hard to find people to fill in the part like these two. Hey, why don’t you go call up Mel? He should be just about perfect for the job!"

-Keith Smithson-

Author's Notes:  This was written as an assignment in 10th grade.  Our assignment was to take one of the sentences written up on the board, and turn it into an entire story.  the sentence: "Finally, after a brief hesitation, the two mighty warriors, gleaming swords raised, eyes locked on one another, moved closer to the inevitable moment of truth."  I thought it was more of a run-on...but I used it verbatim.  It was one of the first writings of the year- and I was quite proud of it at the time.  Now, I look at it and see many ways I could've written it differently and better.  Now, I like it- and I just don't want to change anything.  Overall, I liked the little plot twist at the end.