Read Online Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood by D.J. MacHale - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: D.J. MacHale
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glimpse into the darker side of the human psyche. Coop couldn't imagine being there in the days when blood was actually spilled.
A trumpet fanfare blasted through the stadium. It was the call for the next battle. Coop took it as his chance. While people milled about, stretching their legs between bouts, he made his way back through the tunnel and found a set of stairs leading up to the next level and the emperor's box. His plan was to try and get to the emperor during the next battle while all eyes were focused on the gladiators. He sprinted up the narrow stairway and came out onto a wide walkway that circled the Colosseum, just like in a modern stadium. The only thing missing was the hot dog conces sions. He ran until he came upon a tunnel that would bring him close to the emperor's box and was happy to see that there were no guards stationed at the mouth. He ducked into the narrow tunnel and sprinted until he reached the far end. Peeking out, he saw that he was only a few aisles away from the emperor's box. Perfect. He stayed in the shadow of the tunnel, waiting for his chance.
The trumpets sounded again and two gladiators entered the arena from opposite ends. He couldn't have cared less who they were. If they wanted to fight it out in the afterlife, that was their choice. It was probably how they lived and died in the Light anyway.
The crowd let out a cheer. The previous fight had been forgotten and they were getting themselves fired up for a little more old-fashioned gladiator thumping. The two com batants walked slowly to the center of the sand-covered arena. One guy was big, with full armor and a shaved head. The other gladiator was a foot shorter with long curly black hair. He wasn't a close match to the other guy, either in height or weight. It was obvious which fighter had the advantage. Coop hoped the fight would last long enough so that he could get a few words in with the emperor. He stepped out from the cool shadow of the tunnel into the burning hot sun, headed for the emperor's box. No guards were there, either. There was no need to protect the emperor, seeing as he was already dead. Along with everybody else. Coop was a few steps away from the box when he glanced down to the arena to try and judge when the fight might begin.
The two gladiators stood face-to-face in the center of the ring.
Coop got a better look at them both—and froze. He stared at the two combatants, hoping he was wrong about what he was seeing. As with the previous fight, the gladi ators were armed with swords and shields. But unlike in the previous battle, the swords looked different. They were smaller. They didn't catch the light of the sun.
They were black.
"Oh man," Coop gasped. Instead of continuing on to the emperor's box, Coop ran down the steep steps past rows of benches packed with eager spectators and right up to the edge of the second level. He wanted to get a better look at the gladiators and their swords in the hope that he was wrong.
He wasn't. The weapons they carried were not made from ordinary metal. They were black spirit-killing swords that had come through the Rift from the Light into the Black. The barbaric spectacle had suddenly taken on a more ominous tone. The loser of this battle wouldn't be able to pull the sword from their gut, shrug, and live to fight another day. The spirit who got pierced by one of those swords would be destroyed. For good.
Did those gladiators know the power of the weapons they held? Did the spectators know that this time they actu ally were going to witness a battle to the death? Was this why Damon had come to this vision, to bring his lust for destruction to yet another vision?
The gladiators circled each other. Until that moment the back of the gladiator with the long hair was to Cooper. As they moved, they exchanged places and Cooper caught a glimpse of the face of the smaller combatant.
It made his knees grow weak.
"My god," he muttered.
The small gladiator . . . was Zoe.
He
A trumpet fanfare blasted through the stadium. It was the call for the next battle. Coop took it as his chance. While people milled about, stretching their legs between bouts, he made his way back through the tunnel and found a set of stairs leading up to the next level and the emperor's box. His plan was to try and get to the emperor during the next battle while all eyes were focused on the gladiators. He sprinted up the narrow stairway and came out onto a wide walkway that circled the Colosseum, just like in a modern stadium. The only thing missing was the hot dog conces sions. He ran until he came upon a tunnel that would bring him close to the emperor's box and was happy to see that there were no guards stationed at the mouth. He ducked into the narrow tunnel and sprinted until he reached the far end. Peeking out, he saw that he was only a few aisles away from the emperor's box. Perfect. He stayed in the shadow of the tunnel, waiting for his chance.
The trumpets sounded again and two gladiators entered the arena from opposite ends. He couldn't have cared less who they were. If they wanted to fight it out in the afterlife, that was their choice. It was probably how they lived and died in the Light anyway.
The crowd let out a cheer. The previous fight had been forgotten and they were getting themselves fired up for a little more old-fashioned gladiator thumping. The two com batants walked slowly to the center of the sand-covered arena. One guy was big, with full armor and a shaved head. The other gladiator was a foot shorter with long curly black hair. He wasn't a close match to the other guy, either in height or weight. It was obvious which fighter had the advantage. Coop hoped the fight would last long enough so that he could get a few words in with the emperor. He stepped out from the cool shadow of the tunnel into the burning hot sun, headed for the emperor's box. No guards were there, either. There was no need to protect the emperor, seeing as he was already dead. Along with everybody else. Coop was a few steps away from the box when he glanced down to the arena to try and judge when the fight might begin.
The two gladiators stood face-to-face in the center of the ring.
Coop got a better look at them both—and froze. He stared at the two combatants, hoping he was wrong about what he was seeing. As with the previous fight, the gladi ators were armed with swords and shields. But unlike in the previous battle, the swords looked different. They were smaller. They didn't catch the light of the sun.
They were black.
"Oh man," Coop gasped. Instead of continuing on to the emperor's box, Coop ran down the steep steps past rows of benches packed with eager spectators and right up to the edge of the second level. He wanted to get a better look at the gladiators and their swords in the hope that he was wrong.
He wasn't. The weapons they carried were not made from ordinary metal. They were black spirit-killing swords that had come through the Rift from the Light into the Black. The barbaric spectacle had suddenly taken on a more ominous tone. The loser of this battle wouldn't be able to pull the sword from their gut, shrug, and live to fight another day. The spirit who got pierced by one of those swords would be destroyed. For good.
Did those gladiators know the power of the weapons they held? Did the spectators know that this time they actu ally were going to witness a battle to the death? Was this why Damon had come to this vision, to bring his lust for destruction to yet another vision?
The gladiators circled each other. Until that moment the back of the gladiator with the long hair was to Cooper. As they moved, they exchanged places and Cooper caught a glimpse of the face of the smaller combatant.
It made his knees grow weak.
"My god," he muttered.
The small gladiator . . . was Zoe.
He
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