It Rained Red Upon the Arena by Kenneth Champion

backwards or produce ice fast enough.
    Nick had no weapon in hand, so he swung his shield and hit Grimey’s jaw. Grimey pulled out his sword but the blow of the shield sent him staggering back.
    Nick pulled back his shield again and landed another staggering hit at Grimey’s face. Blow after blow connected. Grimey tried to swing his sword at Nick but it only met his mighty shield. Nick reciprocated with a horrendous uppercut with the edge of his shield that landed on the front of Grimey’s face, sending Grimey backwards and he landed on the muddy arena floor.
    As Grimey laid in the mud Nick stood over him, raised his shield over his head, and drove it down onto Grimey’s face.
    Grimey was defeated but still breathing. Nick dropped his shield and took out his dagger with his left hand. He looked at Grimey’s battered and bloody face, then drove his dagger into his skull.
    The life drained from Grimey’s eyes. Nick pulled out his dagger from Grimey as he realized he had won. A sigh of relief overcame Nick as he exhaled slowly and controlled his breathing.
    Nick looked up, and he heard the crowd. He had zoned out the loudness of the arena as if he were in some sort of daze while he fought. The crowd yelled and clapped for Nick; it seemed as if they thoroughly enjoyed the fight. Nick didn’t know whether it was a regular response or something greater.
    Nick picked up his shield and sword and walked back to the gate from which he came. The gate rose up and shut behind him.
    The same Refect who talked to Nick before the fight walked up to have a quick word with him. “Impressive. You definitely pleased the crowd. I don’t think anyone here has seen a man defeat another with his shield.” He laughed and leaned in closer to Nick and whispered, “The only sad part is that I lost gold. Next time I’ll have it rest on you.”
    “Gold?” Nick asked. “Master, what do you mean, gold?”
    The Refect walked away without a response, heading to the elevator. He needed to get the next two fighters for the third match.
    Nick took off his helmet and put it by the rocky wall. He felt relieved, but he didn’t feel happy. Nick did not believe he could ever achieve happiness through killing. The man drenched in a pool of blood was being dragged out of the arena like a dead rabbit. Nick didn’t know who the man really was, or what act he had done to get to the arena. But like orders sent from the king in a time of war, Nick had no choice but to kill him. Kill or be killed seemed to be the most appropriate way for Nick to see the arena for what it really was.
    “You’re a fierce fighter.” Nick turned his head to the tall Reza standing in the corner, the victor of the first match. “What you did there with your shield was unreal. The Refect wasn’t lying when he said that nobody has seen that done before. My name is Benny. What’s yours?”
    “Thank you, and my name is Nick. How many battles have you been in now?”
    Benny smirked at the question. “That was my thirteenth kill in the arena. Don’t you love it here?
    “No,” replied Nick.
    “Do you enjoy how it rained out there?” asked Benny.
    “What do you mean?” asked Nick.
    “It rained red upon the arena,” said Benny. “You will thirst for it. You will be molded by it. You will want to shower in the glorious rain.”
    Nick looked at the man in silence.
    “Well after a while you enjoy it. The thrill of it, that is. And the reaction of the crowd. They motivate me and keep me going with their cheers when sometimes I feel like giving up. Thirsting for blood is normal after you’ve been locked up in a cell for countless hours.”
    The elevator behind them started to move upwards as the chain was pulled. The loud vibrations of the chain clashing with a metal pulley echoed through the rocky room as the next two combatants were geared up to fight.
    It was the two male Paplons that Nick had seen from the dungeon. Both were of the same size, a normal Paplon build. One