I seem to feel my heart pulse and beat in my stomach as bile rises in my throat. The entangled human forms reek of sweat and blood. It’s the most I can do to not retch.

  White ribbons are now dyed red and brown with blood and dirt. My own is retively clean, thank goodness.

  I reach my hand into my shirt and nestle it under my shoulder in the pit of my arm. With my ribbon safely tucked under my shirt, I can move about without fear of it being snatched.

  Unfortunately, this limits my movement considerably in turn.

  “Shut up” I whisper to myself. ‘Focus. Calm. Focus.’ I hypnotize myself.

  My consciousness crawls into myself. I command my body from my core, treating myself as an unfeeling puppet.

  Tugging at my soul’s strings, I leap forward, pouncing on a pair of burly men wrestling each other for a ribbon at the outskirts of the fray. I press myself down on the back of the stronger of the two, tipping them off bance and forcing them both onto the ground. I reach my free arm around to grasp the weaker’s ribbon.

  I wrap my legs around my now angry steed’s waist. The man’s nostrils fir out in rage. I suppose anyone’s blood pressure would skyrocket when helplessly watching a ribbon, one that was previously dangling just within reach, be cimed right in front of your very eyes.

  I do something I immediately regret: I shove the newly cimed ribbon into my mouth. It’s disgusting. I do NOT have any special taste for human blood it seems. Too te to spit it out now.

  With a jerk, I swing my arm around the horse-like man’s neck. I hook my now empty hand onto my opposite shoulder. I squeeze my admittedly small yet wiry muscles, tugging at my strings, rearranging my weight to focus my all on cutting off my opponent’s lifeblood.

  I fre my own nostrils in an undignified manner. My lungs feel defted, my very ribcage squeezed inward by the man’s weight. He has thrown his entire body down with me, who so securely attached myself like an octopus to his back, serving to break his nding.

  Ha! Let’s see who will pass out first. I struggle not to gasp, firmly clenching my jaw to protect my stolen ribbon. My eyes dart back and forth, looking for an advantageous aspect of the environment.

  Instead, I make eye contact with muddy boots. Darn the socks! The weaker man had not moved on into the rger fray but had waited for this moment to reappear.

  Thank goodness I hadn’t used both arms to choke the stallion; I would have served up my own ribbon on a silver ptter if I had.

  Speaking of, it seems the body weighing me down has gone sck at st. I immediately fling my arm off and grasp for a handful of dirt from the Colosseum’s floor.

  Wait for it. Wwwwwait for it…

  The returning opponent bends down to cim the horse’s ribbon.

  Now!

  I throw the dirt into the man’s eyes. Cursing, he stumbles back. I take the opportunity to roll the deadweight off of my body and cmber less than gracefully to my feet as my blood rushes to circute through my aching limbs and core.

  Not one to stay down, the opponent comes barreling towards me with the strength of a bull. I truly do not wish to end up squished ft again, so I choose to dodge. A quick sidestep would be enough to avoid all damage… I can feel a cruel smile contort my face.

  I remain in pce for as long as possible. Just before the charge becomes a tackle, I lurch the majority of my body out of the way while thrusting out a leg. I sweep his feet out from under him with a twist of my body.

  I smoothly move my body weight onto the outstretched leg and pnt my foot into the ground. I rise, quickly rushing to where the foolish bull attempts to regain his footing.

  With a strong kick to the back of the knee, I push him back onto all fours. I stomp on his spine, forcing him into the ground from which he came.

  My ears ring with a horrendous sound. The man is screaming in agony, I realize a beat too te.

  I wince as he curls himself into a fetal position. With gentleness applied too te, I remove his ribbon with as little force as possible. He whimpers.

  I feel a sense of dissonance as his cry bounces around inside my chest, scratching at my conscience. With deep breaths, I steady myself, and the tolling bell of my soul finds itself still and silent once more.

  I shove the ribbon into my mouth. Still disgusting. My vision feels misty, but I push onward. I dig deeper into the pile of ravaging, snarling opponents.

  Eventually, I find myself at the center. My world seems hazy, my memory not recording the transpiring events. The violence seems to expand, encompassing all of the past and the future as well as the present.

  I continue battling, attacking anyone within my vicinity. I seem to myself a foreign creature, a loathsome beast. I rip my opponents to shreds and feast on their bodies, shoving the bloodied flesh inside of my cavernous mouth…

  The bell rings, signaling the end of the match. The bile in my mouth is now soaked up by a mouthful of disgusting ribbons. Blood drips from my cws, no, from my nails.

  I spit my dishonorable prize onto the ground in front of the nearest well-dressed human.

  She pokes at the vile lump, separating the ribbons to count them.

  I look on all of these proceedings, a hint of shame flushing my cheeks. Luckily, another personage, having finished examining the rest of the competitors, comes forward and saves her from her awful task.

  No one else had possessed any ribbons. They all sat there in that revolting heap.

  The dy stammers… “With a total of nine ribbons…”

  Wait, nine? Ah, I forgot.

  I hurriedly come before the woman and pull my arm out of my shirt, showing the tenth ribbon, the only pristine one out of the bunch.

  She restarts, this time hollering confidently. “WITH A TOTAL OF TEN RIBBONS, COMPETITOR 13 SWEEPS RUMBLE B!”