Dark Awakening
an excerpt

Wayne Bridgeworth pushed the heavy bloodstained mahogany door to The Pit, where it began. After a few words from an unseen man -his voice amplified by the shaped walls-, the bloodied iron railings dropped down, and Wayne entered the Arena, where it ended. Wayne drew his steel blades, which glinted with sunlight. As the crowd cheered him on, eager for bloodshed, his opponent charged with his claymore drawn, the wicked edge hungry for flesh. Wayne’s flesh, to be exact. He dodged the deadly strike, grinning to himself. Surely such a slow opponent could never land a hit on me, a part of his mind said. But, he is built like a War Metallic, and that’s a titanium claymore, so if he does, that’s the end of it all, another part of him said anxiously. He sliced at his staggered opponent of the Red Team. The double-bladed sword glanced off his opponent’s belt guard, a common mistake which spelt DOOM for many combatants in the past. Wayne was shocked-a warrior of his rank does not make such idiotic mistakes! But there was no time to think of that, as the Red Team member had recovered and hefted his heavy claymore, to strike once more. Wayne parried the overhead strike with both swords-an overhead strike from a claymore was not to be taken lightly- and was nearly knocked over, but he pushed the weight back and made a quick stab at the only opening he could see. Over half the crowd cheered at the bloodletting, the supporters of Blue, Green and Yellow were ready for Blue victory, but the Red Team supporters were not ready to except defeat. The combatant tried to strike again but Wayne leapt back out of reach and the Red warrior charged again, his blood pooling on the yellowish dirt. Wayne was-thought he was- ready for the strike, just like before. But then the charging Red did something unexpected-he broke the charge and leapt aside, rolling round behind Wayne! He whipped around, ready for another attack, but it didn’t come. The Red combatant lay dead on the ground, his latest wound spurting blood all over the walls and drainage system, the fighting grate and the beast pit. Later the blood would seep into the training area, a grim reminder to all Reds. The dead enemy’s head fell back, exposing the cause of death to the crowd. Wayne had acted fast, slicing the Red as he spun around, and the crowd shouted his name:

“Wayne! Wayne! WAYNE!”