Today I cried. I couldn't stop it and I should be used to it by now. This is the tird time there's been a Contest of Class. It was all people talked about today, and I was pressed against my will into attending it. I trudged all the way up the steps coated with dusty footprints and spilt drinks into the arena. I could feel the tremble in my stomach as it heaved at the smell of fresh blood and the jeering crowed that echoed through my head. There were still five competitions left.
The Contest of Class is a fight between to different subjects who wished to be declared the "dominant life form" and it provided quit an amusement for Him and his subjects. Though they were always in a deeply tinted view box, every one knew he was there. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about, the Devil, the big head honcho. And shocker here, the fight that resulted in a bloodbath and an inevitable death was his favorite sport. Like football to Americans, cricket to the British and soccer to David Beckham.
Now normally I wouldn't have been cowed into something against my will, but this was a "sport" you were expected to enjoy, something families went to for family day, picnic included. At least this time I was able to get away with out them. Any how, back to the story...
We took some seats only a few minutes into it. At the moment the contestants were both girallon’s. They are usually the main event. Both territorial and dominating they really rally the crowd! This one was between to females, both a soft pail gray color with fur matted with each others blood. The larger of the two was dragging one arm and bleeding from her back. Raising her head to His box, a sigh of resignation, she knew of the shame and dishonor but the chance to go home and see her family alive and she, there to feed them was the reason she shamed her self now. The crowed erupted into howls of shame and frustration. Pelting her with foods and angry threats, they all stopped when a small ox-man came running into the ring. Trotting over to the smaller fighter he whispered into her ear and then promptly left. A sudden look of cruelty and maliciousness washed over her face like a typhoon over Hawaii. She suddenly charged and the other contestant who stood there shocked and bewildered. A roar erupted from the crowed, cheers and jubilation flowed over them like water over stones. The large girallon had been gored threw the stomach and lay dead in a pool of blood sweat and mud. She had run the gauntlet, but like most had not survived.
Not able to stand those leering faces coated in sweat beer and satisfaction I rose from the stands running out of the stadium as quickly as I could. Hiding from the noise I slid behind a corner and fell trembling to my heels. The bottoms of my shoes were covered in deep maroon almost black blood from the steps. Feeling a breeze on my arm I looked and found that there was a tear in my sage green sweater. Shivering, though not from the cold, I wrapped my arms around my knees and tightened my self into the smallest ball I could, breathing deep and calmly to slow m heart.
“You do know that curling into a ball wont get you out of here, right?” came a soft deep voice from above.
Unbarring my head from my arms I looked up and found the most amazingly gorgeous man I had ever seen, next to a few stars that I am not aloud to name. His dark brown hair fell in little strips a crossed his eye brows covering enough of his eyes you had to really peer to see there color, which was a deep green and blue like a sea storm raging and thundering threw all that came in its path. His tan face and pearl white teeth shone threw a smile that seemed as if he had done nothing else but laugh his entire life. A teasing look crimped at the corners of his mouth. Wow, I think I’m in love…ok not love but a DEFINATE lust!
