Hello all. I am in the process of writing a book called 'Fall Of Titans' and would like to share my prologue to you all. Hope you enjoy it!

Prologue

“Fight, fight, fight, fight!” chanted the crowd.
As I slowly entered the arena, my body filling with adrenaline, I have only one thing on my mind… Win. This I must do to survive… And to survive I must kill.
The roaring screams of the crowd surround me, vicious for blood.
I have sown the seeds of my own life and found myself in this hallowing place, a cold-blooded monster bred to slaughter those weaker than me, the hunter to his prey.
As I step upon the blood-stained sands of this coliseum I see the faces of many, they lust for the ‘Entertainment’ that I create, but this is hardly entertainment.
This… This is mindless brutality, enacted to those who have gone against our leader’s will, a punishment called upon by the divines above.
But who am I to judge how these people live their lives, as I am no better. I am the one who is ordered to strike at my opponent, ending a life for the joy of the crowd.
I do this, but for what?
…
I do it for glory.

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I am going to post the first few chapters of my book as I make them, but I will not post the whole book. Without further ado, Chapter 1.

Chapter 1: Reckoning

“Come on soldier. Move it!” screamed a voice from the distance. As I rose from the ground, blood leaking from my body, I saw the figure running towards me.
“What are you doing?” he asked, with a voice both wanting an answer, but also not.
He dragged me across the desolate battlefield, riddled with the bodies of my fallen comrades, and that of the enemy. The deafening screams of fighting and the crying plea’s of men dying surround me as I was dragged across the ground, leaving a trail of blood behind my body.
“Medic, patch him up” as he ordered this a medic appeared from the tent that he had pulled me to, taking out some bandages he began to put me back together.
As he was stitching me up he tried to engage in conversation.
“What’s your name, sir?” He queried.
“Titus, Titus Dominus” I replied, trying to control the agonising pain surging through my body.
Trying to regain control of my legs as I struggle to stand again, the Medic offered his assistance and, without my answer, proceeded to help me.
“You have to take it easy” He said, with a soft and caring tone.
Grabbing my weapons I proceeded out of the tent and back onto the ravaged war-field, thinking without my mind.

Stepping back to the front line, I saw the full extent of the war. So much pain, suffering and blood, washed away by a river of tears shed by the killers who brought their weapons to their victims, then felt the sweet return of redemption strike them down, as the vicious cycle continued.
As I dragged myself back to my regiment, still stumbling from my wounds I saw the destroyed faces of men, some alive and some dead, crying out in desperate pleas, but to no avail.
Feeling a cold shudder on my shoulder as I passed them, I eventually managed to return to my regiment, readying my killing machines as I rejoined my other comrades.

Silence covered the field with its deceiving veil… Men stood quivering and shaking from the terror that they had experienced out in this nightmarish realm, some tried to stand tall but when the time for talk was over, they cowered like the rest. The fear in their eyes was matched only by their determination to die, and that they know they will not return the man they left, if they returned at all.

The silence was now deafening, everything around me had stopped in motion… Nothing…
But I could hear him, Death, coming, to claim me.

“Charge” called out the commander. Then followed Death…

“For victory” we roared.

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Chapter 2: Let the Games Begin

The cheer of the crowd was now in full motion, with nothing to stop it, increasing in volume as I began approaching the centre of the arena. As I entered the inner-most ring I caught glance of my opponent entering the arena, reading his Great-sword for our combat. As he approached me in the middle, he revealed a silent sneer as if to scare me, but to no avail.

We waited, almost holding our breath in suspension…

“Fight!” yelled the Emperor.

He immediately unsheathed his Great-sword and took the first swing, missing as his sword scraped along the sand, retrieving it to again strike.
I unsheathed my Gladius and lunged towards him in an attempt to catch him off-guard while he was recovering from his last strike, and as my sword reached his body he managed to parry my blow and knock me off my feet.
I rolled side-to-side to avoid his blows and waited for his last strike, kicking sand in his face I then lunged at his leg, cutting it off from the knee down.
He let out and agonising scream as his leg lay limp and lifeless, squirting blood on the arenas sand-floor.
He tried to recover his weakened stance but I showed him little mercy, and as he stumbled up I cut his other leg off and he let out a yelp louder then his scream before.
The crowd was roaring with excitement, thirsty for more bloody action, and I gave them it.
I took my sword and carved his body, cutting off each limb until only his head and body remained, and at this point he was crying and begging me to kill him.

I didn’t.

I left the arena victorious and as I departed the Emperor ordered the opening of the lion cage.

I heard his hollow screams crying ‘Mercy’ as they pierced me like a spear, but I felt no guilt as I look out for one person, myself.

As I returned to the preparation room I was greeted in open arms by the other gladiators shouting ‘Good fight Titus’ and cheering for me. I had won, but I feel like I have lost, killing in a way so cruel that it borders on barbaric… But that is what all of this is, a barbaric ring of ‘Entertainment’ for the mass crowds to watch and cheer at, betting on their favourite gladiators for money.

As I walked away from the mass of gladiators who came to greet me another one followed behind me.
“Good fight” he said.
“I guess” I replied, not wanting to engage in conversation about how ‘Glorious’ my fight was.
“What’s your name?” he questioned.
“Titus, Titus Dominus” I answered, wondering if I should continue. “What is your name, friend?”
“Marcus Julio” he replied, with almost a sense of instantaneous happiness.
“Nice to meet you, Marcus Julio”
From this one conversation with this ‘Marcus’, I could already tell him apart from the others, as he harbours a kind, kindred soul, almost like… Almost like… Never mind.

I walked back to my quarters, thinking of our conversation the whole time I did.
He reminded me of someone, but of whom…

That night I couldn’t sleep as the roaring crowds and the screams of pain and torment kept me up, I still felt the guilt of my battle, wishing that I had not killed him in such a cruel and sub-human way.

But I must not dwell on the past, and look only to the future for answers…

And glory.