Semjaza verses Gorath

Armaros was already there, and when he saw Semjaza he shuddered. Semjaza’s cold countenance was something he hadn’t encountered before. He stood up, and leaving his advantageous position he walked over to Semjaza and extended his right hand. Semjaza looked at Armaros and said coldly, “I’m not in the mood for anything other than a fight.” Armaros was not offended. Instead he smiled and replied, “Climb into the ring and meet your opponent then my friend.” Semjaza looked him straight in the eye and took off all his cloths to the cheers of the crowd. He turned to Kokabiel and said, “Hold these for me and let no one take them from you.” He walked to the edge of the ring and jumped in.

Semjaza did not have the biggest muscles, but they were all very well toned. Each muscle was tight and firm. The evenness of each muscle compared to the next was something to behold. The hairless body may have played a part in making Semjaza look more toned than he actually was. But the scars that riddled his body would tell a different story. Down the length of his back was scar tissue which resembled that of a man who had been tortured by being dragged behind a horse along a gravel road. The left nipple was none existent and looked like it had been cut off with a blunt knife. There were six healed puncture marks around his abdomen which look to have been caused by arrows. His left leg had three slash marks and his right arm had four slash marks, which looked as if he had been attacked by a bear. Semjaza’s eyes were so blue that they looked white. They also screamed loudly the words, “Let’s get it on!”

Armaros looked impressed by the young man in the ring. He smiled and said, “Ladies, whores, warriors and boys. I present to you Semjaza, the challenger. Today he will be proving himself worthy of joining our army and will be fighting against our champion, Gorath the Undefeated.” The crowd roared with anticipation, and as Gorath made his way towards the ring with his arms raised high, hands clenched into fists, the crowd began chanting his name. He stood in front of Armaros and took off his cloths. Then turned and jumped into the ring.

Gorath had big muscles, and each one of them looked to be in perfect balance with every other one. He had a body full of hair, which could cover the fact that he was not in perfect shape. He had scars down his hairy back which resembled that of a man who had been whipped by a cat of nine tails. He had slashes on his shoulders, legs and arms. All over his abdomen were numerous puncture marks. Some of these look to be from arrows and the others look to be from spears. His eyes were brown and looking into them deeply you could easily mistake them for being the eyes of a man who had been dead for five years.

Armaros stood up and called for silence. “There are rules,” he said loudly. The crowd hissed and booed. “I’m joking,” he said, “There is only one rule. Thou shall not kill your opponent.” The crowd cheered and Gorath shouted abuse towards Armaros for not being allowed to kill, what he considered to be a very puny little boy. Armaros laughed off Gorath’s abuse and said, “You shall use the sticks to your advantage, but when a man says that he has had enough then the fight is over. When you knock a man out the fight is over.” The crowd hissed, booed and cheered at the same time. Armaros raised his hands and said, “I know that those are new rules, but we can’t afford to kill of our fighters now can we?” The crowd seemed happy with this and they started to chant, “Start the fight. Start the fight. Start the fight.” Armaros picked up the heavy sticks he had brought with him and said, “Let the fight begin when the sticks hit the floor of the ring.” He threw the sticks.

As soon as the sticks hit the ground said the voice, Charge him. Knock him to the ground. Mount him and throw punches to his face. Time was altered once again as Semjaza watched the sticks slowly fall to the ground. Then he was off like a cheetah charging Gorath at full speed. His shoulders hit Gorath’s midsection bowling him to the ground. Semjaza quickly climbed onto Gorath’s ribcage and started to throw punches with his full strength. Left, right, left, right, until Gorath reached up to Semjaza’s chest and threw him over backwards.

The crowd cheered and in unison they chanted loudly, Gorath, Gorath, Gorath.

Gorath’s nose was a bloody mess, his eye brows were ripped open, but he still had hold of his senses. Climbing to his feet he could see that Semjaza was still rolling over backwards. Gorath roared like a beast and beat his chest as Semjaza came to a halt and got to his feet. Strengthened by the chanting crowd Gorath took three mighty steps towards one of the sticks, Semjaza ran forward and as Gorath bent over to pick up a stick, he kicked him as hard as he could in the midsection. Gorath rolled over onto his back and Semjaza quickly mounted him again and then continued to throw punches into his face, left, right, left, right. The crowd booed and hissed showing their anger at this undignified assault. Unbeknown to Semjaza Gorath had succeeded in grabbing a stick. He stretched his right arm out straight and forcefully pulled it towards Semjaza’s head. The stick hit the back of Semjaza’s head perfectly, which sent him rolling over to his right with a loud shout. Again the crowd chanted their appreciation for Gorath’s initiative.

Get up, said the voice, get a stick and take out his right elbow. With blood streaming from the back of Semjaza’s head and a fire starting to well up deep inside of him he climbed to his feet and quickly ran towards the last remaining stick. As he bent over to pick it up Gorath bolted towards him and kicked him in the stomach, which sent Semjaza toppling to his left. Somehow Semjaza managed to end up on his feet. Taunt him. Standing in a crab like position with a stick in his right hand Semjaza shouted loudly, “Come get some you weak son of a mongrel monkey.”

“Arrghh,” roared Gorath as he ran towards Semjaza with the feeling of being insulted by words he couldn’t understand. Semjaza ran towards him. With a few steps separating them Semjaza fell to his knees and rolled into Gorath’s feet causing him to trip over Semjaza falling face first into the dust. The crowd booed. Climbing to his feet quickly and turning around to see the face down Gorath Semjaza smiled and took his time to walk to the fallen man-ape’s right side. Mercilessly, Semjaza raised the stick high and proceeded to whack the back of Gorath’s elbow, again and again and again, until there was a loud crack. The screams were more than the crowd could stand. They started shouting abuse at Semjaza. This didn’t stop him from pounding that elbow. The crowd started to throw things. Someone threw an egg sized rock which hit Semjaza in the back and succeeded in diverting his attention from Gorath; this caused the crowd to cheer. Semjaza stopped whacking Gorath’s elbow and turned to the crowd. He dropped the stick, picked up the rock and screamed, “Who threw this?” The crowd laughed. Taking his time to look through the crowd he noticed a man who looked guilty. Semjaza took aim and threw the rock at the guilty man hitting him on the head, knocking him down. The crowd was not happy with this, and they let Semjaza know it with insults that would make a dead men cringe. The distraction however, gave Gorath enough time to gather his senses and climb to his feet.

Gorath wasn’t the smartest man alive, and with ignoring the pain throbbing through his right elbow and the blood dripping into his eyes he walked towards Semjaza, who still had his back turned. Gorath painfully clenched his right fist and started to punch Semjaza in between the shoulder blades. With his back arched, and his head facing the sky Semjaza let out a yell that was only to be silenced by Gorath’s right arm which had clamped itself around Semjaza’s neck in the form of a head lock. Chants of approval once again echoed the ring, and Gorath who was still completely oblivious to the throbbing elbow attempted to squeeze Semjaza’s neck. Instead of trying to grab hold of Gorath’s forearm, Semjaza lowered his right hand and reached for the crutch. He found a whole handful of testicles which he then proceeded to squeeze with all of his strength. Gorath screamed and released his right arm. The crowd was not pleased with this move. They booed and abused Semjaza, “You dirty leprous bunghole,” some of them shouted.

Drawing in deep breaths Semjaza eyed up the situation. He saw that there were two sticks on the ground. Grab them both and smash his ears! He quickly moved and picked up both sticks then ran towards Gorath with both of his arms stretched out wide. He jumped into the air and at the same time as he started his descent he forcefully brought both of his arms together viciously striking both sides of Gorath’s head with each stick creating a hollow sounding thud. Gorath yelled and fell to the ground and blood began to pour out of his ears. The crowd went silent. Semjaza walked to the right side of Gorath, and using both sticks effectively he proceeded to whack the right elbow until it cracked again and swelled into a mushroom shape. Gorath screamed, but he was not smart enough to give up. He climbed to his feet, and quickly spun around to launch a solid kick into Semjaza’s crotch. Semjaza doubled over dropping one stick. Gorath picked the stick up with his left hand and started whacking Semjaza in the back of the head, which caused him to fall face down on the ground. The crowd loved this and again started chanting Gorath’s name.

Grab his right foot and roll to your left. With his head pounding Semjaza found it hard to think. But he looked to his right and with both hands he made a desperate attempt to lock his arms around the right foot, and succeeded. With both arms locked around the foot and Gorath still thumping Semjaza’s head with the stick, he rolled to his left pulling Gorath off balance causing him to split his legs. Having a good hold of the right foot allowed Semjaza to continue to roll to his left, twisting Gorath’s ankle. Once Gorath’s legs were split so wide that his testicles touched the ground Semjaza went to work on the foot. Still holding onto the ankle, Semjaza quickly stood up wrenching the right leg, with loud creaking and cracking sounds, into a position which should be impossible. Looking down at Gorath Semjaza smiled and twisted the ankle ninety degrees to the right with a snap. The whole crowd could hear the bones brake. They weren’t impressed. Gorath screamed as Semjaza dropped the foot. He turned towards Armaros and raised both hands to the air. Armaros smiled and clapped his hands, and then the smile disappeared as he pointed towards Gorath who had somehow managed to get up. Semjaza turned around just in time to see Gorath who was standing precariously on his left leg, swing his left arm which held the stick. The blow hit Semjaza on the right cheek bone forcing a mouthful of blood to spray out to the left. The crowd cheered. With a quick return Gorath swung his left again with a perfect back hand which connected with Semjaza’s left cheek forcing another mouthful of blood to spray out to the right. Again Gorath swung his left which connected Semjaza’s right cheek with a loud crack spraying another but smaller mouthful of blood to the left. The crowd was ecstatic.

Punch his right cheek. Without even thinking Semjaza threw a left hook which connected with the off balanced one legged Gorath and he hit the dirt. Silence once again enveloped the ring. Semjaza’s head was pounding, but his senses were still very clear. He walked over to Gorath’s left side and stamped again and again on the forearm until the skin ripped and the muscle popped out and oozed light greenish yellowy goo into the dust, and then the clenched hand released the stick. Picking up the stick with his right hand Semjaza methodically sized up his broken opponent. Walking over to the left leg Semjaza took aim at his target. Lifting the stick above his head he brought it down fast and hard onto Gorath’s left knee. Gorath screamed, but Semjaza kept at the knee until he heard the knee cap shatter. He then took two steps to his right, lifted the stick above his head once again, and brought it down onto Gorath’s chest with a loud thud. The crowd started talking quietly amongst themselves as Semjaza continued to brutalize Gorath’s chest with the stick creating the continuous sickening sounding thud, thud, thud. Once he was satisfied with the amount of broken rib bones he walked to the head, bent forward and said, “You’re no champion. You’re a chump.” He raised his right hand high and started pounding the forehead fast and hard, creating a disturbing rhythm that can only be compared to a pair of clubs whacking a hollow log, until Gorath was finally knocked out. Semjaza stood up, looked at the crowd who were completely astounded by what they had just seen. He walked towards Armaros, threw the stick on the ground and shouted, “Have I proved myself?” The crowd was quite, and all eyes were on Armaros. A smile appeared on his lips, which eventually turned into a full blown laugh. “Semjaza,” he shouted, “Welcome to my army, my family; my friends.” Some of the crowd cheered and started to chant Semjaza’s name, while the others were still shouting insults.

Semjaza walked over to his naked victim, crouched down beside his head, and even though he knew Gorath couldn’t hear a word he was to say, he said, “You are a worthy adversary. It was an honour to fight you fairly.” He climbed to his feet and staggered over to the stick, picked it up and raised his hand towards the sky. “Well done my friend.” “I can’t do anything without you,” he replied.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 02.08.2014

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