Its 6am in the morning, I wake up and I get ready. My armour is hanging in my line of sight as I adorn , the trademark of gentlemen before me, a suit and tie, even though I am going for battle. Who knew I would actually love battle. Who knew I would get a lust for blood, like a shark hunting for his pray. Worry not my fellow men, I am not a fighter, I am a MUNNER.
I eat like a normal man, even though I am not, I drink like a normal man, even though I am not as at the same time you eat or drink, I am making calculations and counter-calculations for every move I might make the whole day. I meet my fellow gladiators with jubilation as we lay down our lives for a trophy that might even be redundant. We now live for battle rather than the applause. I grab my headphones and I put up my battle-song, Hand of blood being my choice.
I enter the room, as the other warriors look at me as if I was prey. I rather look them in the eye as I try to enter looking like I own the room and every one of them. I greet every opponent taking clues on body language or the way they might be speaking. Many of them are lesser opponents other than a few gladiators. I sit in silence, as the emperor enters. We have rules and traditions like any warrior cult, we wait for the other fighter to a swing at us but the moment they make a mistake, we strike like an assassin. One would call it a cold or cruel, we call it fair game. We form partnerships as we try to survive in the hostile environment, even though we know to protect our backs from our allies. For one has to keep his friends close but his enemies closer. We battle it out for 4 days or more, with passion and compassionate use of words. Our weapons hit harder than swords, the moment we misuse them, our weapons hit back. You never see our wounds as they are not taken on the flesh or bone. They are taken on the mind.
As we leave the battlefield we make bonds of friendship with the people that survived. We wait in silence for the awarding ceremony. I sit with the rest of them waiting for my name to be called out.
get called to the stage as I take in the applause and I bask in the glory of
winning and being proclaimed as the best in the battlefield but now its feels a
bit empty. I have lost all my power for blood as I wait for another opportunity
to realise my un-godly lust for for it.
I am a Gladiator and I am JUST a MUNNER