by Jack Hammond
Quickly looking at his watch he saw it was just after two, he had told Sadie he’d meet her outside school. But it was a dream, he told himself again. What would be the harm of looking? Chances of Sadie being there were low, but what if she was and she could explain? He picked his coat up off of the floor and as he pulled his arms sharply through the sleeves, he descended the stairs, departing the house.
The sky was white now, snow had begun to fall, and the soft flakes fell rapidly on his head as he jogged down the street. The flecks were settling on the pavement, gardens and a few parked cars on the roadside. Wesley knew he had to hurry, if she was going to be there, she wouldn’t wait long now the sky had finally given in and snowed.
Wesley turned the corner and cut across the main street, before dashing along Hamilton Road, the trees above protecting him from the weather. The school came into sight, fast approaching the end of the street Wesley began to slow down. Wes caught his breath as he looked towards the gates. No one was there. What did he expect? It was all in your head, he told himself angrily after rushing here. What was he thinking? The dreams had really gotten to him, played a number and a half on him. As he turned he caught a glimpse of Darren in the distance. Sadie’s friend, how odd Wesley admitted to himself.
“Wesley!” he shouted.
“Hey!” he anxiously replied. What does he want? Wesley contemplated running, the fight or flight response was playing heavily on his mind now.
Daz moved closer, he didn’t look angry or ready to attack, “You came after all,” he said.
“Sorry?” Wesley’s perplexed look unmistakable.
“Sadie said she’d meet you here,” he replied bluntly. “She couldn’t make it, so she sent me.”
“Right…” Wesley muttered.
“You look lost, what’s your problem?”
“Sorry, I’m not sure about this,” Wesley said honestly. “What exactly are you on about?”
“Sadie phoned me,” he began, seeming a little irritated. “She said you'd spoken in the arena last night and arranged to meet here.”
Wesley remained silent as Darren continued.
“She’s been held up, family something or other. So I’m here instead,” he shrugged.
Wes eventually said, “The arena?”
Darren hung his head, giving a sigh of frustration before looking back at the confused expression on Wesley’s face. “You still think it’s a dream.” Darren rubbed his face with his hands. “Come on, we need to talk.”
“Yeah, I think we do.”
“If you don’t believe it’s real, why did you show up?”
Wesley pondered his words carefully, “Because...” he paused again. “If it is real, it’s insane. If it isn’t real, and it’s all in my head, I’m insane.”
“Well, it’s real. I can tell you that for a fact,” Darren admitted readily. “I've had twelve fights, it’s not so much insane as inspirational. The feeling you get in that arena.” He closed his eyes as he recreated everything in his mind, it did it no justice.
“I don’t understand. Really I don’t.” Wesley continued to look confused.
“That’s why I’m here. I’m going to tell you all about it.” Darren held out his hand, “Take it and all will be clear.”
Wesley looked at him, filled with anxiety, he argued internally with himself.
Darren could see the inner turmoil etched across Wesley whole demeanour, but remained silent.
“Okay,” Wesley continued, confirming his decision was made. “Right,” He said, reaching his hand out and taking a firm grip, he closed his eyes. Was something supposed to happen? He couldn’t feel anything, no strange sensations, nothing. He opened up his eyes and could see Darren smiling, his white teeth gleaming.
“You tit,” he said with a chuckle. “Now if you thought shaking my hand would answer all your questions. That’s mental.”
“Right…” Wesley replied, feeling foolish, “This whole things insane.”
“Nah, it’s pretty simple mate.” Darren said. He seemed friendlier now he’d embarrassed Wes, “We will walk you through it. There are three of us from our school in the colosseum.” He explained, “Me, Sadie and Super Alwin and now you.”
The snow fell around Wesley and Darren as they sat on the wall outside school; he explained the rules of the colosseum. The cars drove past, windscreen wipers thrashing to and fro, but it was all just background to what Darren was saying.
“When you enter as a contender, you go under the arena.” He explained. “You get to meet the other fighters and challenge or accept challenges from them.”
“How do you change? Sadie transformed into a wicked fighter.”
"They’re called ‘Mani’s’ short for manifestations," Darren said. He was quite competent explaining and answering questions, Wesley wondered if this was his first time doing it.
“They're amazing, that stone dragon one. Wow.” Wesley said grinning.
“The dragon’s an Elite, but we’ll get to that later, let’s get the starter stuff out the way.” He smiled, seeing a hint of excitement in Wes’ face now, the confusion long gone. “You decide what your Mani’s going to be. Don’t go for something like a comic book character. A lack of imagination leads to lack of skill. I wiped a guy out last month who tried to be a Marvel hero.”
“How longs this been going?” Wes inquired.
“No idea, no one knows. None that I’ve spoken to anyway,” he replied. “Super Alwin’s been clashing for three months.”
Super Alwin’s real name was Alex Winter; he was a kid in Wesley and Darren’s year. The nickname was newly adapted after he came to school the previous week dressed as Superman from the DC universe for charity. He got permission from the headmaster to attend the entire week as the Man of Steel. Not content with just dressing up at school, he travelled to and from it, in the full rigout. Wesley and Luke had talked about the fact they could never do it, yet it didn’t faze him.
Darren continued, “Try to think of something original if you want to fight that is?”
“Does it hurt?” Wesley asked.
“Not really, if you fight someone your own Echelon its fine, it’s only if you’re daft enough to go into the higher ends,” he said.
“What’s ‘not really’, are we talking a slap, punch, kick?” Wes pushed.
Darren laughed. “Seriously unless you clash someone out of your league it won’t hurt at all.”
Wesley smiled, already thinking about what he could become in the amphitheatre, “So what do I do?”
“Easy, choose contender at the gate. Once you go in, find me, Super Alwin and Sadie. In fact Alwin will probably be your first fight. He’s an echelon five.”
“Didn’t you just say I shouldn’t fight above me?”
“He'll go easy on you and once you take a hit from a higher echelon, you won’t even flinch at someone your level then.”
“I see, but won’t I lose?”
“Yeah, of course, you can’t beat an echelon five. To be honest no one ever wins their first fight.”
"This is too much to take in." Wes admitted. He was surprised how well Darren was explaining everything, he wondered if he'd done it before.
“I know, but seriously man. Once you step out on to that sand,” he smiled his gleaming teeth once again on show, “Boom, boom, pow!”
“How do I pick what I am?”
“You think what it is as you go out, after that you’ll always be that manifestation.” Darren said, his mind recalling the lure of the colosseum.
“So if I choose to fight tonight. I can challenge Alwin and fight when?”
“That depends on how busy it is, most of the time it’s the next day.” Darren replied.
“So I’d have time to prepare?”
“Don’t bother, just go in and let Super Alwin flop you, then your next fights a guaranteed win, well more likely anyway,” he added.
"To think up a manifestation, I mean." Wesley admitted. "I don't want to look stupid."
After almost an hour, Darren had filled in a lot of gaps and answered even more questions. He had gratefully told Wesley he would go through anything he was unsure about later that night inside the arena. Wesley was more worried what he’d say to Sadie, especially after the way he had reacted to her in the tier above the fighters pit the previous night. He put the embarrassing conversation aside, Wes turned to his attention to what he would be in the colosseum, a giant dragon, a swordsman? Wesley pondered all the possibilities, then realised he had not asked Darren what he became within the walls. I bet he was desperate to tell me, he thought. He should have asked, but with everything else going through his mind it had completely escaped him.
Back home, he turned to the first page of the sketch pad. Wesley’s eyes fell once again upon the detailed drawing of the gladiatorial man, shield in one hand and hammer in the other. It couldn’t have been coincidence. He wouldn’t have drawn these detailed pictures for no reason. The fact he was unconvinced he could draw them at all, no longer factored into the equation. He gazed at the picture, the more he stared, the more he liked the idea. To enter the golden sands of the arena, transformed into a monstrous man mountain, armed with a buckler shield and a war hammer. Wesley smiled, it was decided. He would become a gladiator, he may look the part but he still wasn’t sure how he would stand up against the beasts and fighters he had already seen. No doubt they would be able to fill in those gaps in a few hours. Wes watched the time with a greater deal of anticipation.
The mobile buzzing in his pocket caught his attention. He rooted it out and looked at the screen, it was Luke. Wesley screwed up his face a little, he didn’t want to answer. Due to fact he’d lied to his friend for the first time, and it was such a huge lie didn’t help. Wes knew he would be asking what time he would be playing the game tonight, but Wesley wanted to play a different game. He declined the call and continued to look through the sketch pad. Each page was filled with superlative images, some were of the gladiator Wes had chosen, and others were of creatures he could hardly believe. The Rock dragon from his first visit was on the fifth page, but further in the pictures depicted things he’d never seen.
Did everyone go through this? He pondered. Did they all draw what they were going to become? Wesley really needed to write down the questions he wanted to ask. As soon as he had thought of an important question, it was pushed aside by another. One image stood out from the others, he didn’t know why, but half way through the pad was a drawing of a huge bear, possibly a polar. It was difficult to be sure in black and white. The illustration portrayed an insanely tall bear, breathing what looked like ice onto the gladiator. The hammer in the gladiators hand was a blaze with flames, a dragon appeared to be forming from the head of the weapon.
He looked again at the close up of it on the second page. A dragon was etched into the top of the war hammer. Suddenly Wesley wondered if perhaps someone had already picked the gladiator form. The image just felt right to Wesley. He didn’t get the same feeling looking at the stone dragon, the ninja, the bear or any of the others depicted in the pages, only that one.
Time was beginning to drag, Wesley kept an eye on the clock, at some points he swore the hands had stopped. He thought about Super Alwin’s manifestation as he spun around in his chair. Would it hurt? He was a higher echelon, Darren had explained.
“Wes!” his father shouted, breaking his chain of thought.
“Hello?” he replied, making his way over to his bedroom door.
“Chad’s here to say goodbye.”
Wesley had forgotten his Uncle was heading out on business. Rushing across the landing, Wes skipped two or three steps at a time as he hopped down the staircase with ease. “Chad!” he said as he burst into the living room.
“Hiya Wes.” He greeted.
Chad was in a black suit this time, the light blue shirt and dark blue tie combination working well. Wesley’s mum and dad were already seated, Wes and Chad soon followed.
“Want anything bringing back?” Chad asked.
“What they got over there?” Wes asked.
“Same as they have here, just with squiggly instructions.” Joe joked.
“I could bring you back something warm, to fight off the cold?” Chad suggested, “Something to shield you from the elements.” He added with a smile.
“No thanks.” Wesley said, “Get me something cool!”
“Cool it is,” Chad agreed.
“You’ll get a slap if you’re not careful, cheeky sod.” Holly said, unhappy at Wesley comments, “You don’t have to get him anything. He has enough.” She was right, but that didn’t stop Chad wanting to spoil his nephew.
Chad changed the subject and asked, “So how's the new game?”
Wesley paused, he hadn’t even thought about it today, “Getting whipped by Luke as usual.”
“Don’t give up hope, you only need to beat him once and then it gets easier,” Chad cheerfully explained.
“I don’t even get close.”
“Really, he’s that good?” Chad said a genuine hint of interest in his voice.
“Yeah, he’s got mad skills,” Wesley continued his praise of his friend.
“I’ll remember that, don’t challenge Luke on any games,” he said adding a laugh.
“They spend too many hours on those things,” Holly said. “But I suppose as long as his marks are high at school, what’s the harm.”
“It’s just moved on. Hopscotch fifty years ago has given way to online gaming,” Joe said. “Same as online shopping’s taken over the high street.”
“Yeah, won’t be long before we’re never leaving the house,” Chad’s comment serious and worrying at the same time.
“Don’t get me started on that.” Wesley’s dad replied, attempting to lighten the mood.
Chad laughed out loud, clapping his hands together. “I’m only kidding.” He wasn’t, he was sure that’s what the future held, people remaining in their homes twenty four seven, “Just trying to get the protester in you going again.”
Joe Finton had been on a few protest marches in the past, he wasn’t hardcore, he’d just found a few causes he felt he needed to join. They were short lived as Wesley, marriage and life got in the way, “I haven’t had a good protest in years,” he proclaimed.
“You protest every night when my soaps come on.” Holly happily interjected.
“That doesn’t count.” Joe said refusing to bite.
“Anyway,” Chad announced, “sorry to break up the happy home, but I have to get going my flights in three hours.”
“You have a safe trip.” Holly said pecking him on the cheek.
“Make sure you don’t get into any trouble over there,” Joe added hugging his brother.
“Me?” Chad laughed again. “You know me, Joe.”
“That’s the problem, I do know you.” He smirked.
Wesley stood up and shook Chad’s hand. “Have good time Uncle.”
“And you take care, Wes,” he said, the firm grip stronger than usual. “And I haven’t forgotten about the suit. I’ll sort it when I get back.”
“Thanks.” Wes replied.
Noticing the time Wesley quickly said his goodbyes and dashed off up to his room.
He closed the sketch pad on the desk, checked his hair in the mirror and tidied himself up, preparing mentally. Wes was nervous, but it was only due to seeing Sadie, which made him laugh. He wasn’t worried about the monsters, the dark or the shadows; Wesley was concerned about what Sadie would think of him. He laid his head on the pillow, took a deep breath, settled himself and closed his eyes.
Wesley made his way through the darkness towards the towering colosseum in the distance. He had arrived earlier than his previous visits; the sound of the expanse howling around him was louder than before. This time he felt more uncomfortable, Wesley wondered what was keeping the wind at bay
. What was the force holding back the terrifying sounds behind the barrier? Stood outside the huge Tuscan walls, the doorman was unchanged, his grand presence unwavering.
“Contender,” he began. “Or observer?”
Wesley took a deep breath, “Contender.” Wesley stated proudly.
He raised an arm, but this time another door rumbled open in the stone. This door leading down into the pit of the colosseum, Wesley suddenly felt a desire to turn away. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go in now, had he pushed himself too far, too fast?
“Good luck.” The doorman said, his voice remaining cold and impassive.
“Thanks.” Wesley graciously said, embarking on his journey into the fighter’s pit.
The sound of chattering echoed through the long hall, the huge ominous silver doors at the far end looked daunting. Mounted torches burned brightly illuminating his path. The reflections of the flames were mirrored in the black marble beneath his feet. Wesley approached the entrance and could see two oriental dragons etched into the silvery surface of each door. The long majestic bodies formed a complete circle when the gates were closed. Wesley heard them begin to move, grinding against the rock as they parted before him. The talking increased as the fighters pit was revealed to him, passing through the huge opening Wesley observed the very people he would soon challenge in the arena.
The room was filled with more children than he had expected. At one side was a mass of eight to ten year olds, the other side a smaller group but they were in their mid-teens like Wesley. He couldn’t help but notice the eyes staring at him, glares came from nearly every angle. He remembered the line from a prison film he had seen a few years ago; he was the ‘new fish’.
The walls were made of a grey rock Wesley couldn’t be sure of, it wasn’t concrete but it was solid looking. Tables and benches of the same material were present throughout, people sitting, some lounging over them and some even standing on them. Cauldrons of fire had been placed next to each set of benches, the flames illuminating the faces of the children. Wesley spotted Sadie, Darren and Super Alwin behind a couple of teenagers.
