Hell's Coliseum

A sickening crunch filled the arena, the crowd of thousands of demons erupted into cheers so powerful the ground shook beneath them.

"We get to fight that at some point?" I asked the nervous man in front of me. The man was scrawny and sick looking, with sunken eyes and short, matted brown hair. The torn, battered, plain brown clothes, the demons provided for us hung loosely off his body.

"What do you mean get to?" He said as his voice cracked and he gave me a wide-eye look of terror. "You want to face that thing?!"

I remained silent as I watched the violence taking place in the center of the arena. "It would be a challenge," I said.

"A challenge," The man said in disbelief with a shaky laugh.

We stood in a darkened tunnel, our hands shackled in chains, waiting to be lead out into the middle of a massive stone coliseum. Behind us was seemingly never ending darkness. The demon guards informed us that we may attempt to escape down the darkened tunnel, which led to the center of Hell. Once there we could take our chances trying to find the Burning Gates, the only way in and out of Hell. The Burning Gates were the only things keeping all souls and demons trapped in Hell. If we made it to the gates alive we would be permitted to pass through the gates and returned to earth in our human bodies to live once again.

If we were caught attempting to brake free, any chance for any escape or redemption would be forever gone and we would face an eternity of the most twisted forms of torture. The only other way free was to fight in Hell's version of the Roman Coliseum; if we were able to survive the various opponents in the coliseum, we would be rewarded with possession our souls, our human bodies returned to us and we would be free from Hell. We would be given a new chance at life on earth.

Before me, there was a small metal door that stood between us and the actual arena. Beyond the door stood two demon guards, waiting for the signal to usher us in. The demons were made of a black, thick, smokey substance that created a solid human form.

Past them, in the middle of the arena, was a gigantic bull shaped creature. It slammed the lifeless body of a man against the arena walls and ground. It walked on its hind legs and was at least eight feet tall. It had two, long, curved horns on the top of its head. The bull-creature possessed human-like hands, but where fingers should have been it had sharp claws.

The creature smashed the body into the walls and ground over and over, filling the air with the snapping of newly broken bones. With each punishing slam an excited uproar was released from demons in the coliseum.

Finished with the lifeless corpse, the creature tossed it across the huge arena with ease. It bellowed out a deafening roar. The demonic crowed roared back, thrilled with the result.

"We fight that thing first," The man said in a high pitched voice, as he clung onto the metal door so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Can we move this along?" I asked the demons guarding the door. The sickly man just shook his head.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"Does it matter?" I asked him as I watched the demon bull turn toward a man cowering against the far wall.

"Just curious," he mumbled back. "I'm Blake, if it helps."

We stood there in silence for a moment before I finally said "Prather."

*85 A.D.*

Nearly fifty thousand screaming Roman's squeezed into the Coliseum above me, their anticipation reaching a boiling point as they waited for the games to start. I sat in silence, on the sand covered stone floor, preparing my mind for the violence ahead. The only light came from a few torches that were outside the cage doors.