To save his own life, he would have to kill

 To save his own life, he would have to kill.

That’s what the game master had said. Arlo had been thinking about this, letting it stew in his mind for a very long time, and he’d finally come to a conclusion; the game master had never specified what exactly he had to kill.

So now, here Arlo stood, anxiously waiting for the large, iron bars to slowly rise so he could enter the arena and see if he could get away with this.

There came the thunderous applause, which was his cue to run into the arena and gather the attention of the audience, which he would really be relying on to help him survive. He was all too aware of the fact that having the audience’s favor usually secured your survival, and he needed all the help he could realistically get.

The excited screaming of the audience, clearly fueled by alcohol, was easier than Arlo anticipated to bring to a decibel that felt like if it went on for too long, it could deafen a man, and more importantly, shook the arena a not-insignificant amount.

The cockier Arlo acted as he successfully dodged the attacks of the man he was supposed to be fighting, the louder and rowdier the audience got, and the harder and more frequently the walls shook.

It only took a couple of smiles wider than a man without a weapon in a fight to the death really should give from Arlo as the colosseum shook with the applause before his opponent got the hint, and started telegraphing his attacks just a bit more so Arlo could dodge better.

The crowd loved Arlo the underdog as he bobbed and weaved, sometimes allowing himself to get hit just to spice things up and get bigger reactions from the drunken fools in the stands, and from the look of the cracks in the arena walls, Arlo just had to get them to love him a little bit louder, and he would be free. Everyone who had been trapped in this never-ending ‘game’ of violence and bloodshed would be free.

With blood dripping and mixing with the sweat on his brow, Arlo gave a curt nod to his opponent, who made a spectacle of attempting a furious blow at Arlo, only to trip and drop his weapon, scrambling to gather it, but being only milliseconds too late as Arlo grabbed it, and pointed it at him.

The crowd exploded, louder than they had been all night, and best of all, loud enough to threaten the structural integrity of the colosseum, which started crumbling under them.

In the panic and excitement of the colosseum collapsing, Arlo grabbed his opponent, and together, they freed as many of the other fighters as they could before the whole thing fell to complete ruins.