Contillian Rubustus the III

Contillian counted the seconds before the beast was to be released. His bare shoulders were flexed. Already, his sweat drenched his body in the heat of the baking sun. He had wrestled lions and bears dozens of times. Whatever type of beast was behind the gate, it couldn’t be worse than the animals that he’d strangled to death before. The spear in his hand was sharp.

“Five, four, three, two… one!”

The wild beast burst through the gate, rumbling and frothing at the mouth. It was neither a lion or a bear. There were six furry legs on this rolling tumbleweed of a beast called a warbocnik. With teeth, the length of a grown man’s femur, the beast was furious. Contillian had only heard stories from his father and grandfather about warbocniks. Its head was covered in mire as if it had been thrashing in a mudslide for hours. This unpredictable beast was just lusting to tear open human flesh. This kind of beast wasn’t picky in the least. It was going to get interesting because a spear could only do so much. The animal lunged at the third generation gladiator with matchless ferocity. Its eyes were orbs of bleak horror. Contillian jabbed with the spear to see what the beast would do. It was unimpressed. Two of its legs rose into the air, reaching for the fighter. This beast was smart and it taunted him with a pleasurable mocking air. Picking the fighter up, he dangled him upside down as if he were merely a spider to be crushed. His spear still gripped in his right hand, he skimmed the eye of the creature, causing it to spin around. Blood spurted out from the creatures face. It sputtered and shrank back for a moment. It was more furious than ever now!

“Now you’re mad, huh?” Contillian asked and swung the point of his spear at the creature a second time. The beast’s reflex was to fling down the gladiator several yards away. He rolled several times, stiring up a cloud of dust. One final roll, and he sprang back up into an on guard position. He had lost hold of his spear, so he made a sudden dash to regain his only weapon in the arena.

With the speed of a lightning strike, the warbocnik tumbled, sprang up into the air, and plunged down, attempting to crush Contillian. The gladiator braced himself for the impact of the beast that was flying down at him. A risk was taken as he plunged the spear head deeply into the wild animal’s open mouth. Its teeth flashed in the sun’s rays of light. The beast made a horrible gaging sound. Contillian twisted the spear, in order to worsen the damage of the injured beast. It attempted to lung at him, its teeth were just inches for the gladiators face. More blood poured from the animal. Two of its legs grabbed the gladiator by the neck, pinning him to the ground. For part of his training, he’d mastered the art of being able to hold his breath for several minutes. The iron grip of the leathery arms tightened and it felt as if his head was going to pop off any second from the pressure. Dazed, his eyes stared at the spear that was partially dangling from the massive beast. Starting to sway back and forth, the beast fell to the side, and Contillian could feel the grip on his neck soften but not enough to escape. The desperate man knew he’d not be able to hold his breath much longer. With another burst of energy and force, he thrashed on the ground, reaching for the spear. Blood was now flowing in puddles around him. It was a wretched sight but yet the crowds in the wooden stands were roaring with amusement. Finally, the tips of his fingers brushed the wooden end of the spear. Desperate, he got a better grip on the spear and pulled with every last bit of strength. The spear came unlodged, ripping the inside of the beasts throat. After regaining the spear, he was now close enough that he plunged it near the abdomen of the creature. With this fresh puncture, the creature lost grip around the neck of the man. Gasping of air, Contillian rolled away from the creature’s other arms that were starting to reach for him. There was now less range of motion the beast could make. The gladiator took advantage of the opportunity. He backed up several yards from the animals bared teeth. Running full speed at the side of the beast’s face, he cracked one of its teeth. Backing up, he smiled, saying,

“You are no match for my kind of wild!”

The beast writhed. Contillian wasn’t finished yet. He threw his thick shoulder, with all of his strength, into the same large tooth of the animal. He almost fell under the powerful jaws of the animal but stumbled backwards. This time, the tooth broke completely off. It was stained in blood but Contillian raised it up as if it were a metal of victory.

“Now, it’s time for me to finish you off with your own tooth! You vile creature!”

He took the large tooth and plunged the razor sharp edge of it into the beast’s chest. Its heart exploded and the beast fell into a motionless state.

Drenched in blood, sweat and dust, Contillian raised the animals tooth up. The crowd cheered louder than ever, chanting his name. They were in shock because most people had never seen a man slay a warbocnik. He’d done it with nothing but a spear and the beast’s broken tooth!