The Minotaur versus The Beast

Future Tales by Pascal Blanche

The roar of the crowd drifted down into the tunnels beneath the Colosseum. Graithe stood upon ancient stone and steel hearing the energy of the crowd, the announcer riling the crowd, the snarls of starved dogs tearing into their prey. Graithe climbed the blood stained ramp, his armour stifling. The pauldrons of rusted steel chafed his shoulder and the dual horn halfhelm narrowed his vision. The battery pack weighed down his left leg, his spear and shield felt uneven in their weight. Graithe climbed higher until he could see the azure sky and the harsh red sun.

The crowd cheered. The announcer declared the dogs had it. The tigers were beaten, fodder for the victorious hounds. The audience cried out for blood, gasped as the dogs tore the tigers limb from limb, a sizeable number laughed. Graithe didn’t have to see it to know. A bloody and torn tiger’s head slammed into the half-opened iron portcullis at the height of the ramp. His blood warmed. He rolled his …