The Gladiator
Wynnona
I stare at the old book, fully taken away by the new adventure in my hands. My small room shakes as a high-speed train blows by. I don't look up at all. A glass sitting beside me starts to fall off the small table. Without looking at it, I manage to catch it mid-fall.
My phone starts to go off, Sound of your heart from 500 years ago starts to play and a stupid photo of Brett and I lights up the screen. I close the book reluctantly and answer.
"What?" I grumble into the small thing, placing it against my ear.
"Hello to you too." Brett says in an all too cheerful voice. I can hear people shouting in the background. "Allen, Cobra is going to kill you. You're almost late for your fight." He tells me and I sigh. Oh yeah. I say to myself and stand. Brett's always called me by my last name, something that started happening between the two of us when we were twelve or something.
"I'll be there soon." I tell him and hang up. Stuffing my phone in my back pocket I stand and grab my leather jacket, slipping it on. Snatching my keys from the kitchen table I leave the small house. It's the same size as an apartment house, but cheaper. Then again, no one here actually pays to live here. We've all been trapped here because of lack of money, a wealthy family name, or there just isn't room for us in the fancy, clean cut and well-kept houses of the rich. The slums have always been like this, dirty, cold, sketchy if you will.
Hopping onto my motorcycle I start it up, driving off to the stadium. I ignore the familiar crumbling buildings around me as I dodge large potholes in the unkept street. When I get where I'm headed Keya and Brett rush over to me.
"Cobra is so very angry." Keya warns me. I give her a once over and see bruises on her wrists. Our nations may be at peace, but nothing inside of them are peaceful. There are small areas of people who have money and wealth, but the rest of us live off whatever we can steal. The higher class of us can go to school and all that jazz. The rest are forced into the gladiator fights.
I've been able to keep Keya and Brett away from Cobra's slimy grips by fighting in their place. Brett is studying medicine as best he can. Keya is going to school as well, studying history to be a teacher. She was once a bimbo for Cobra, forced into his hands and way from her family. Luckily, Brett and I figured out how to get her away, protected from his grips.
"I'm going to kill him." I growl as I grab her wrists gently avoiding the tender bruises as I inspect the marks further.
"You and me both." Brett tells me, wrapping a protective arm around Keya's small shoulders. She's far too skinny; a slim figure with little curves. I place light kisses to her wrists as I see a tall man covered in tattoos makes his way over to us. Cobra stands in front of us as I step in front of Keya.
"I was beginning to think I'd have to put Brett into the ring." Cobra sneers at me. I glare up into his cold blue eyes. I can hear Brett gulp behind me. "I was so excited for it too." I watch his eyes rack over Keya.
"Yeah well I'm here." I growl at him. "So, hands off." He smirks and walks away, into the large stadium. Think old Greek where people fought loins or something. I never really paid much attention to the history class when I did go to school, it was too boring.
The place is packed with people cheering and shouting. I hand Brett my keys and leather jacket. I'm left in only my tightly fitted, red, turtleneck, cropped tank top, my ripped skinny jeans, my rings, fingerless gloves, and boots. The tattoo on my left bicep as well my right forearm is on full display as I lick my lips.
"Be careful." Keya tells me, worry evident over her delicate face as we walk in. Cobra announces me and the audience roars with cheers.
"I promise." I tell her, letting go of her hand and walking in. I set my features with a bored look as I stare at the other guy.
He's maybe twice my size in muscle mass alone. His head is bald, and he has a large ring on his right hand.
Brass knuckles are illegal in here, but rings aren't. They are pretty much the same thing if you ask me, but rings come in different shapes with edges and pointy bits.
There is someone standing in the area where he came in from. They are holding a couple different weapons. I know for a fact that he is going to turn around and grab one of them. I then regret not tying my hair back and out of my right eye.
I didn't bring a weapon.
Wait, there's a bow staff on my keys. That sounds weird, but I have this special one that shrinks down. After you unlock it, the thing springs apart into a full length, sturdy staff.
Cobra inches away and rings a bell, signalling the start of the fight. As expected, the guy charges for the man holding the weapons. I wait to see what he grabs. A large number of daggers are in his huge hands when he turns back around.
I hate it when people are far too predictable.
He starts to throw them at my friends standing behind me. Keya screams as Brett pulls her back. The silver dagger flying at her just graze's past, cutting across one of her perfect cheekbones.
I can see the murderous look dancing in Brett's bright blue eyes. His arms are wrapped tightly around Keya, hiding her behind the thick stone wall. My features involuntarily shift into a hard glare, my fists tightening to the point my stubby nails dig into my palms.
He sets himself up to throw another dagger. Just as the silver blade leaves his hand, everything moves in slow motion.
In my eyes, while fighting, I see everything in slow motion. From the blade leaving his fingers to the moment it lands, everything goes at half speed. It's not because I'm slowing the world down, but because my brain slows what I'm seeing down. It's one of the main reasons why Cobra won't get rid of me. He gets too much money off my fights because I'm undefeated.
I get to the two idiots I call friends and grab my keys just as the dagger lands. The sharp silver blade just misses my shoulder as the cool metal flies by. Unhooking my bow staff from the keychain.
I hold the small thing in my hand, the metal contraption no bigger than my palm. The guy I'm facing has moved forward, into the center of the arena, a wide smirk on his face.
"I'm so scared of a little key chain." He roars, making the audience shout and laugh. I glare at him and advance, staff still small.
There's no way he could have known how much those two idiots mean to me, so Cobra must have told him. That is one thing that pisses me off. Cobra's been trying to get me to lose for years. It used to be small things, but this is the last straw.
No one hurts my idiots but me.
Once I'm close enough to him I unlock the staff, the small thing snapping into a full-length bow staff. I watch with a wicked sense of pleasure as horror flashes in his deep brown eyes.
He drops the daggers and pulls out a large sword from the back of his belt. Charging at me, sword pointed at my chest, he aims to hit me. At almost the last second, I step to the side, snapping my staff down into his wrist. I hear a satisfying snap, the blade falling.
He cries out in pain, cradling his now broken wrist to his chest. I pick up the blade and raise it to his throat, my bow staff in my other hand.
"Yield." I growl at him. He falls to his knees at my feet, bowing his head to me. The audience roars in cheers. I drop the sword at his knees and walk away, compressing my staff back into its smaller form.
Cobra walked over to me and handed me a wad of cash as doctors rushed to the other guy's side.
"Nice fighting, Gladiator." He whispers. The name is an old one, older than I can recall at the moment. It was used to regard high level warriors in Rome or something. I can't remember anymore. All I know is that it's a name that he gave me, and one I used to enjoy being called.
I walk away from him and back to Keya and Brett. Keya is complaining loudly as Brett babies her wounded cheek.
"Babe, it's just a small cut." She wines, a small smile on her face.
"But you're bleeding. I swear I'm going to murder him." Brett grumbles harshly, eyes locked on his girlfriend.
"You're so whipped, Smith." I tell him in a monotone, smirk on my face. He glares at me and protectively wraps his arms around Keya's waist, pulling her closer to him. Keya giggles at the way he's acting. She'd never say it out loud, but she loves the attention he gives her.
"Fuck off, Allen." He grumbles at me. I smirk and pinch his lower back, right over his spine, making him yelp. "I hate you." He sighs, handing me my jacket, keeping a protective arm around Keya's shoulders. She snuggles into the warmth of her boyfriend and smiles at the two of us.
"I'm still slightly amazed you didn't start dating Wyatt." Keya says, looking up at her boyfriend.
Brett and I have always had a weird relationship in the sense that people would think we were dating. We get along famously, best friends right off the hop. He's there for me the second I need and I'm there for him. In a way, we are a couple. We just aren't romantically involved. Plus, that would be weird because he's my adoptive brother.
"It's because you're the pretty one and people always hit on you before even thinking about me." I look Keya dead in the eyes as I speak. "Plus, I give off a murder vibe." I say with a shrug as she glares at me and Brett laughs.
"Someone's gonna come along and break down your walls." Keya challenges. I smirk at her and slip my jacket on.
"I'd love to see that." Brett and I say at the same time. Where I monotone, Brett laughs.
"Just you wait." Keya points her finger at me, he long nail making it look longer. "Someone's going to sweep you off your feet and break you." Keya threatens with a smile. Before I can open my mouth to argue, I step into a puddle and almost trip over something.
Catching myself I look down and see a fancy, old, leather bound book.
"What the hell?" I mutter in confusion. The puddle is right beside my bike, the book obviously placed so I'd find it.
"Get it out of the water or it's going to get wrecked!" Keya exclaims. I crouch down and grab the book, standing back up with it in my hands.
"Let's check the damage then." I mutter under my breath, more to myself than anyone else. Unhinging the leather strap holding the book closed, I open in and hold it in my hands. The first page is blank.
Keya comes up behind me and places a hand on my right shoulder. I can feel Brett standing behind me on my left, hovering over my shoulder.
I flip the page to find it filled with black words, written in elegant handwriting. Flipping the page again there is more writing.
"Why would someone leave a used notebook for me to find?" I question aloud. It wasn't abnormal for me to find things by my bike. Mostly death threats and stuff like that.
"It's probably not important." Brett says dismissively. I close the book and look over my shoulder at him. There's a nervous look in his blue eyes.
"Umm, Wyatt." Keya says, tapping my shoulder. I look at her and then to the cover of the book. Seven stones are set in a straight line down the centre of the book. The yellow stone, close to the bottom, is emitting a soft glow. The light slowly starts to circle around the three of us.
I feel like I can't move, stuck in place by the light. Suddenly, it's gone, and the book is back to normal. The latch holding the book shut is now done back up. All the once colourful stones on the front going an eerie shade of black.
"What the hell is that thing?" Brett asks out loud. Keya and I both look at him, awe reflected in both our eyes.
"Yeah, not important." I tell him sarcastically. He lifts his hand and flips me off. I stuff the book into a compartment in my bike under the seats. Once done I turn back around, facing my two friends.
"You're keeping it?" Brett shouts in shock. I stuff my hands in my jacket pockets and shrug.
"Why not? Besides," I turn my head slightly to look at the seat of my bike, "it's caught my attention."
Keya laughs at the two of us and drags Brett off after hugging me goodbye. I get on my bike and head home, loving the feeling of the wind in my hair. When I get home, I grab the book and head into the small house. Locking the door after I enter; I toss the book along with my keys onto the kitchen counter.
The fox I saved a couple years comes bounding from my room. He's a regular fox with bright green eyes. There is a large set of scars on his left side. The area around his eyes are covered in a black, navy, and purple nebula. I thought it was paint, but when I tried to wash it off it wouldn't leave.
I crouch down and give the fox's head a pat.
"Hey Stardust." I sigh, exhaustion finally setting in. I stand and grab a small tub of food for the fox, setting it into his bowl. It's strange, he's a fox but he acts like a dog some days and isn't much bigger than an average cat.
After he finishes eating, I head to my small room, taking my jacket off and tossing it on the windowsill. Peeling off my jeans I pull on a pair of sweatpants. Pulling back the five blankets I sleep under, I crawl into the all to uncomfortable bed. Stardust jumps up and cuddles with me. In a matter of minutes, sleep is taking over my mind.