Ok, so today is setting day and i have written this rather hastily in the ten minutes whilst at my sisters.
The setting prompt always does the job of inspiring me and this is what spewed from my brain and to my fingertips!
The sun was beating down onto his bare chest, scorching the skin and making it burn red.
There was no air. Not even a gentle breeze to clear away the stench of rotting flesh. The remains of those slain earlier that week were left there as inspiration to the next man that would come to battle here.
Looking up through squinted eyes towards the crowd was always overwhelming. It did not matter how many times he would stand here as each was the same. The roar of the crowd was beyond deafening, there was nothing recognisable anymore as the vibrations echoed in his ears and traversed his body.
Every muscle was tensed, held taut and pulsating in anticipation. Only he knew how brittle each was, how weak he had become, with one hit they could turn to dust and his bones shatter.
The crowd grew silent as the familiar wail of rusted metal rang out. The screeching of the iron chains as the gate was raised to release his opponent encouraged a collective sigh - he could feel the crowd all holding their breath, as he was, as certain doom stepped out.
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