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The Pits Of Jhelom (part 4)

T

Trillin

Guest
The Pits Of Jhelom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​
The Spearhead, Chapter 4







The telltale chanting of his arrival began, followed by the distinct sound of metal feet against the stone. With every step the hunger for freedom grew, and slowly he removed the spearhead from his boot. The metal gliding against his skin sent shivers of apprehension along his spine. He could almost feel the warmth of their blood pouring over him, but he needed to calm himself. He could not risk spooking the others and having them alert the guards to his plan. Thanatos looked to each, searching out their gaze in the dim light, the question burned in the red of his eye.

Thanatos was pleased when all those in the cell nodded their agreement.

The key clicked into the lock and the iron gate swung open. Thanatos stood, clutching the spearhead in one hand and making his way to the open door. He could feel the tension of the small crowd behind him, as they had almost no idea of what action he might take to secure their freedom.

Thanatos stepped forward, placing himself in the middle of the group of four guards. Familiar faces, men he had seen each time he had been summoned to the arena. But that did not matter to him. It would never matter to him, no matter how ‘well’ he knew these beings he deemed beneath him . The pale warrior stood in contrast to the dark armour of the guards surrounding him, staring dead ahead and hoping that those behind him would follow his lead and make his escape all the easier.

He let the spearhead slip down comfortably into his grip and quickly drew his elbow up and backward, listening for the sickening crack of the guards nose to his right. The guard stumbled backward into the open cell and the anger of abused gladiators inside. Thanatos followed through on the momentum and spun to brace his hands upon the chest of the guard previously behind him, and shoved the man backwards into the cell alongside his partner.

“Take them!” Thanatos shouted. He smiled as the two other guards were upon him, dragging him to the floor. His cellmates were now pinning the surprised and helpless guards to the ground. Fear had always been their weapon. And now, caught off guard and unprepared, their tool was being used against them. Both men, now frantically wrestling against their attackers, let out growls of frustration, only to have them silenced by a stone hard fists to their faces.

Thanatos turned, dragging the guards gripping tightly to his arms, along with him and shoving one guard toward the cell. This one, however, had a stickier grip than he had anticipated and the guard continued to cling to Thanatos’ frustration. It was then that the guard discovered the pilfered spearhead hiding in his grip. Their eyes met, and Thanatos smiled. The look contorting his features startled the guard and his grip loosened. Thanatos shoved him backward, shaking the guard off completely before curling his leg upward and landing a ferocious kick to the unfortunate guards stomach. The man doubled over and heaved, retching miserably before he was dragged down next to his fellows and summarily beaten into unconsciousness.

This left Thanatos’ spear laden hand free to drive toward the throat of his other assailant. Metal pierced flesh over and over as he shoved the pointed end of the spearhead repeatedly into the other man’s neck, opening it up to a tidal wave of the warm red fluid Thanatos loved to watch flow. The guard toppled lifeless to the floor, the blood pooling around his head. A bloody red halo forming as the man’s soul left him.

Cries of alarm could be heard ricocheting throughout the halls of the underground cells. The sounds of the scuffle had alerted the other guards, and metal against stone began to sound throughout the halls. The small group of cellmates, headed by Thanatos took off to the rear door. The door used to bring in new slaves to use in the arena, or to solicit the attentions of the male patrons of the arena above. They broke into a run and headed for the door, an easy run as most of the guards were stationed above, controlling the rowdy and drunk men and women here for the fights. Thanatos rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. He spread out his arms, stopping his followers without a word. A group of soldiers stood gossiping by the door. They back pedaled around the corner and waited. This group obviously hadn’t been alerted, but it wouldn’t take long, Thanatos knew. He signalled for the group to attack with him. Eager and trusting eyes, alight with the bloodlust they all often felt once they got past the fear. Thanatos brandished his spearhead, four of his companions lifted their stolen swords, and the lot of them charged around the corner.

The pale silhouette of the gladiator was the last that the guard closest to the corner saw out of the corner of his eye as Thanatos barreled into him, knocking him back into the group of his comrades. Thanatos could hear the sound of metal on metal, could hear the cries of anguish as the blood of guards and prisoners alike collected at their feet.

The spearhead found its way into the eye socket of one unfortunate guard. It slid into his cranium with ease, and Thanatos relished it. He gripped the left over shaft of the spear and began to shuck the mans eye from his victims socket, but it the spearhead caught on his orbital bone, grinding against it as Thanatos tried to remove it. This gave one of the guards, currently drawing his sword from the belly of one of Thanatos’ makeshift allies, enough time to bear down on him. The guard swung his sword toward Thanatos, creating a shallow parting of flesh of the arm gripping the spearhead.

Rage coloured Thanatos’ face, twisting it into a feral snarl as he lunged for the guard. He grabbed at the man’s sword hand, gripping it tightly as he bashed it repeatedly against the wall. He could feel the guard’s bones turn to dust in his palm. He could almost feel the guard going into shock, as he watched him go limp and his eyes glaze over in pain. The sword fell from the now useless mess of the soldiers hand and clattered to the ground. Thanatos continued his assault, curling his fist and landing a blow to the guards windpipe. Knees buckling, coughing and heaving, and almost sick with pain the guard hit the ground, but defiance still burned in his eyes as he glared up at Thanatos. His useless wreck of a hand clutched at his throat. Thanatos reached for the fallen sword and drew it upward, holding it, two handed, above his head with the killing end focused on the kneeling man before him. His comrades had ceased their fighting and stood around him, their quarry lay dead and bloody among them, along with several of their original companions. Five left, including Thanatos. Soon to be four as he smiled down at the defiant man below.

“Take their armor. Their weapons, money, anything useful.” Said Thanatos before gripping the sword tightly and bringing it down, shoving the cold steel into the man’s chest and letting him drop.

The ashen warrior collected the keys from the soldier and smiling to himself. Soon these walls would no longer contain him.




to be continued...
 
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