and a small door that would stay closed until they had been made ready by the masked guard. He finally came to Silas and the metal was slapped around his left wrist. He thought at first that he would be paired with Dink, but to Silas’ disappointment, the fat guard pulled red-beard next to him. The two were then destined to either live or die together. Dink’s partner was shaking more than the rest and was quite nearly ready to wet himself. After every person was paired, the guard stood in front of the door and smiled a large, toothless grin. He seemed excited to watch what was about to happen as if this were the best part of his day. Each person waited intently as the crowd on the wall above them continued to cheer and laugh. What happened to these people to make them act like such animals?
Just knowing the chance of survival was low, each chained prisoner fixed his or her eyes on the door in front of them. With the growing shouts from the crowd it was becoming impossible to listen for what lay beyond the door.
Silas looked to his red-bearded partner. “What’s your name?” he asked as if it mattered.
“Gunther,” he said, looking forward, his eyes unwavering from the wretched door. “I was right you know.”
Silas didn’t want to admit it, but Gunther had been right. They had been marching to their deaths the entire time, but what else was there to do? Arguing his point would not prove advantageous at the moment so he held his tongue.
“We just need to stay focused and be ready for whatever is ahead,” Silas replied and nothing else was said after that. A rhythm of shouts formed in the crowd above. They chanted for their picks so they might win that extra bit of cash. Silas was determined to make whoever bet on him rich.
Without warning, the door flew open. Instantly the pair standing directly in front of it was incinerated by a burst of flames, while the rest dropped to the ground. A loud moan shot out from the crowd. When the heat from the fire-blast died, Silas looked up from his position and noticed what looked to be a gigantic lizard, a dragon perhaps. He had never seen anything like it. Its large black snout snapped through the door, chomping at any food it could find. Silas tugged on the chain to get Gunther’s attention. In acknowledgement his counterpart stood, hunched over. When the footed serpent reared back for another fiery blow, the pair slipped under its belly and crouched, hoping the beast wouldn’t stomp on either of them. The dragon scraped and bit at the others as they scattered and tumbled through the door. It was disoriented by the number of meal options it had, taking bites in random directions. Silas and Gunther remained under the creature, attempting to avoid its heavy feet. The crowd was belligerent; throwing rocks at those they didn’t want to make it, mostly hitting the serpent, adding to its confusion. Again the monster blew fire, setting one of the chained prisoners ablaze. His partner was incapable of extinguishing the flames. He tried vigorously to drag the sizzling, smoking body, but it caused him to be slower than the others. The dragon went straight for him, giving Silas and Gunther their opportunity to run. The monster bit into the exposed prisoner, and the crunching bones and muffled scream sounded louder than the mob above. Taking advantage of the other’s misfortune, Silas and Gunther, along with the remaining survivors, ran down the path behind the monster.
After a moment, they came to a covered passageway, blocking them from view of the crowd. Silas figured that such a passageway was meant to provide suspense for those betting to see who would emerge out the other side still alive. As they edged forward they could see a tunnel. It was dark and no danger could be seen; yet everyone knew the danger existed. Each looked around; eyes darting to one another, hoping someone else would volunteer to move first. Dink reached down for a rock and threw it down the tunnel. Instantly a section of long spikes jutted out from the walls on both sides and continued in succession, one by one, down the tunnel. Silas counted seven sections of protruding spikes, each retracting mere seconds after they were discharged. He knew he could run it alone because the timing was fairly consistent, but with