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a coliseum filled with all my fears roars to life as the bane of my existence enters, shoulders broad, chest bare, teeth sharp. a mane of fire erupts around its neck, sparking further noise from the audience that surrounds us. it crackles and hisses as the bane unsheathes its weapon; a sword made entirely from the shadows, a blade of legend. it literally drips consistent drops of blood onto the hot, sandy coliseum ground. as the blood pools, it burns away the ground, leaving nothing but holes in both the earth and my hopes of survival.
the bane speaks: “and lo, what is this? a worthy challenger is what is demanded, has been demanded, and what but a lame opponent be this!” it gestures wildly at me, pointing a sharpened claw in my general direction.
i cower. what hope is there for me, here, amongst all my worries and terrors, each chanting the name of my executioner? they control me, for i am bound to them as they are to me. where one goes, the other must surely follow.
the bane tramples and trots about the vast coliseum grounds, cloven feet kicking up dust and spite and anger. waving its arms, garnering such praise from its audience, the bane simply revels in its never-ending glory. it is a beast of magnificence and fear-mongering, of that there is no question.
the bane opens a fanged mouth yet again: “and so it is, then, that the competition can not but utter even a single word. no threats to be made, no demands for mercy!” it grins and it is horrible. “what is its name?”
i find myself incapable of speech to answer. i feel my lip quiver, my hands, clenched, fill with sweat and dread. i am close, so close…
the bane approaches me, slowly. it turns an ear to me, an eyebrow raised. it speaks: “i said, what is its name?”
the bane now stands before me, not but an inch separates us. it is a tower of muscle and hate and power and beauty. if it wanted, it could turn me to ash with a gaze, crush the life out of me, or tear me apart, joint-by-joint. but it won’t. it can’t. never.
it howls: “cowardice is its name! yellow is its flesh, shaking are its bones!” it gets close, leans right into me. its slick, gray skin comes alive on its face, before my eyes, with a thousand screaming souls longing for freedom. i can hear them… see them.
it goads: “cowardice is its name.” i see myself in its teeth. i am more frightened. the stadium fills with laughter at my expense. i am wounded and defeated before the battle began. _______________________________
written in one sitting on Aug. 11th, typed up to the sounds of ‘Trampled Under Foot’, just like its predecessor
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only a small portion of the entire thing would be titled “Από την αγάπη και την κόλαση” (of love and hell) but…
Added September 1, 2016
Almost ten years ago. 9, actually.
“10 Up/Down” is my masterpiece. There is an entire book in there, a movie. A mini-series.
This pseudo-sequel proves, to me, that there was tons of content to mine. Wish I knew people. I’d have to retitle it, though.
skylerbartels 