Snippet #102

In the dead center of the capital of Russataia, the slaves were working tirelessly on the Coliseums new upgrades and maintenance. For the annual Russataian games were fast approaching and the arena had to be ready in time lest they face the wrath of the corrupt king Egan. The king himself had personally come down to inspect the progress, he often did venture out in Arcadium, he had very little to fear. The people were repressed and the watchful eye of the royal guard was everywhere. As the king approached his prized arena the slaves had yet to chase away the stench of the dead that still plagued the area from the year before. The sun cast an eerie light on the blood stains the slaves had yet to come clean and bones were still protruding out of the arenas sand.

The king walked slowly inside the arena leaving foot prints in the sand that the slaves quickly followed covering them up, the king was merely basking in the glory of Colosseum, excited like a young child for the games to begin. He loved watching the warriors fight with all their willpower and might all battling with a purpose most of them would never live to see. No matter how many fights they would win, they could never claim the grand prize, a single wish granted by the king himself. But no one had ever defeated the Kings personal grand champion Genox Vandilson and it was unlikely to change. The kings eyes were closed just imaging the bloodshed that was to take place oh so soon, he could almost taste it, he could almost hear the screams of agony. A loud crash snapped the king back to reality, one of the slaves had let go of a rope as he was holstering a column to the second floor.

The king marched over to the slave who quickly cowered and keeled before him, the slaves hands were torn and bloody, he obviously tried to catch the rope but it had nearly severed his hands. The man was sobbing, knowing he had attracted the fury of the king upon himself. "My..my..my lord..I..I..I..am sorry..it slipped" He cried on his knees looking at the ground.

The king stood tall looking down at the frightened slave, his expression blank and unreadable, yet his body had blocked the sun casting a shadow over the poor soul. "You dare make a mistake so close to the games!" The king snarled clenching his fists "I..I...tried to catch it sire..I ..did.." The slave bellowed, his fellows workers didn't even glance at the commotion not wanting to attract the kings attention to themselves. The sobbing slave held up his hands showing the king the gashes in them, hoping the king would have mercy.

Suddenly the shadow had disappeared once again letting the sun beat on the slaves cold body, he breathed a sigh of relief thinking the king had walked away. When the slave looked up he was nose to nose with a jet black tiger barring its teeth. The tiger pounced on the slave who screamed as loud as his lungs would allow before they changed to disturbing gurgles as blood poured from his severed throat. The slaves payed no attention to the horrible scene and simply continued working, cleaning up the body, mess and new blood stains once the king had left.