Gladiators (modified)

[Duvodas]

Hi there. This is another version of Gladiators, Decimus is still the POV, thoug, but I changed his personality a litle bit. I'd say too much. Anyway, this story is not finished yet.The best part is just coming, so stay tunned.

The Chronicles of Decimus


Death was calling to Decimus.

He could feel it running through his veins; whispering in is ears, resounding
in the walls of his memory.

Decimus walked to the table where his gladius rested, engulfed by the light of the raising sun that penetrated through the bars of the small cell. He stopped and stood still, just before reaching the edge of the table. He stared at his gladius. It had fresh blood on the edge.

His lips twisted in a smile as he thought of whom the blood had come from.

The young slave, Nicanus, had come to bring him food and water. Decimus did not know the boy but he had seen the frightened look in the slave’s eyes from the moment he had entered the cell. He knew the youth had to be scared. Decimus had built his reputation on fear.

Nicanus walked rapidly to the table and placed there, with trembling hands, the wine and the plate full of meat. Then, turning around, he tried to leave as he had entered.

Decimus’ voice filled the room with uneasiness.

“Why, are you leaving so fast, boy?”
The youth spun on his heel and glanced at the gladiator. Not able to hold his eyes, he lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“Are you mute, perhaps?” Decimus asked and chuckled.

“No, sir,” Nicanuss managed to say.

“Then why don’t you answer me. I’m not a man who’s known by his patience.”

“I’m sorry, sir… I…I meant no offense,” the youth said, still looking at the floor. “I’m finished with my task in here, and I…ehm… have more to do yet. I cannot waste time.”

Decimus stared at Nicanus from the table. He noticed that his feet were shaking.

“Come closer,” he said, pointing with his finger where he wanted the youth to come. Close enough to him.

Nicanus came reluctantly to Decimus, still not daring to look at him directly in the eyes.

“Why are you afraid of me, boy?”

“I’m no…”

“Yes, you are,” he cut him off. “Your voice does not lie and neither do your legs. Now look at my eyes. Look at them I damn say!”

Nicanus slowly raised his head until he met the man’s eyes. He backed off spontaneously. Without realizing it, a tear poured from his left eye, furrowing his cheek.

Decimus laughed loudly. He knew what the youth had seen in his eyes.

“Do you know who I am, boy?” asked Decimus after a pause that seemed ages for Nicarus.

“You’re Decimus, the Gladiator of the Sand, sir,” Nicarus said, trying not to sob.

“Yes I am that,” Decimus said.

Suddenly Decimus reached out and dragged the youth forward by the skirt. His forehead touched Nicarus’. He saw as the frightened boy closed his eyes not to meet his again.

“But I’m also a demon!” he yelled.

A blade glimmered in the light. The boy gave a dreadful scream of pain and Decimus let go his grab.

Nicarus pressed frenetically his hand on his left cheek. It had been all so sudden that he could do nothing but to stare quizzically at the gladiator.

Cursing himself, he ran to the door as fast as he could and stepped out of the cell. Decimus did not try to stop him.

Decimus glanced at the bloody gladius. He held in his hand for a while, lost in thought, and then he put it on the table. He reached for the wine...

Decimus smiled as the memory left his head. The young gladiator always liked to see blood on his blade before fighting. He loved the sight of it. It made his blood boil.

He felt the urgent need to kill, to see the red liquid pour out of the wound, to hear the screams of his victims.

“Soon, my dear”, he muttered to himself as he reached for the short blade. Grabbing it by the hilt, he drew it close to his face, to his nose. He breathed profoundly and slowly, letting the smell of the blood fill his lungs. He closed his eyes in ecstasy.

He sheathed the sword and looked for his helmet. It was in the chair where he had left it when he had come from the last fight. He took the helmet and put it on. It covered half of his face, from nose to forehead, just leaving two big holes for his eyes.

He heard the trumpets and the cheer of the crowd following. Those sounds could only mean one thing for him: the fight was about to start.

Decimus headed to the cell door. He would fight soon…and would kill soon. He grasped the hilt of the gladius strongly enough to make his knuckles crack.

Again, he heard death calling to him.

 

[Duvodas]

Continuation of the Chronicles of Decimus the Slayer

Decimus walked swiftly in the dark hallways. Few torches hanging on the walls, placed here and there, scarcely illuminated his way. He did not need them. He could walk the hallways with his eyes closed and without losing his footage or hitting the walls. He knew well enough the path to the Rooms of Doom, for he had walked them many times and always came back alive, or wounded. There, all the gladiators who were about to meet death congregated before stepping out to the Arena to fight. It was a chance to glance at their victims, their partners, or their slayer.

His ears filled with the sound of yelling crowd coming from above his head. He knew. He knew that they were waiting for him.

Decimus heard the sound of steel as he came closer to the Rooms of Doom.
He followed the sound in the darkness until he stood in front of a big, black door with the shape of an arc, the entrance to the Rooms of Doom. The big door was opened.

He stepped inside.

Torches hung around the walls as well, illuminating the room. No sunlight ever entered it but when the Gates of Life and Death opened to let the gladiators out to the fight, or inside again, either dead or alive.

Decimus looked around through the holes of his helmet. He realized that many fighters were staring at him. He could discern the frightened looks in their eyes.

The trumpets sounded once more, and the uneasiness was gone.

The fighter formed a straight line in front of the Gates of Life and Death, stretching their feet, shaking their head, staring at their weapons.

Decimus placed himself as the last one in the column. He chuckled as the fighter in front of him risked a glance to his back and turned his head again rapidly.

The black gates opened and the sunlight penetrated the Rooms of Doom. Many of the gladiators placed a hand on their foreheads, trying to block the light from overwhelming their vision. The yelling from the crowd filled each man with courage, or fear.

Gradually, the gladiators stepped outside the Rooms of Doom to the Arena.
The crowd shouted even louder when the last gladiator, with his face covered by a black helmet, entered the Arena.

The gladiators marched steadily to the center of the Arena, forming a perfect line. Facing the emperor, who was sitting on his throne, ten feet above the crowd, they raised their weapons to him.

The emperor stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony. The crowd suddenly mutered.

“We who are about to die salute you,” all the gladiators said at the same time.

The emperor bowed his head and clasped his hands twice, giving the signal to start.

The gladiators dispersed slowly through the Arena, ready to fight, looking at each other, trying to find the slightest chance of hesitation.

Decimus did not move from where he had given his oath. He stood there, his head down, eyes looking at the sand. His hands crossed together, grabbing nothing but the air. His sword sheathed.

The sound of two clashing swords followed by a scream filled the air. The crowd stood up from their seats and cheered hysterically.

The fight had begun.

Decimus closed his eyes.

He heard the continuous clash of the steel against steel. He loved that sound. It could only mean one thing: time to kill. Yet, he stood there, his back facing the fight, without making any move, without killing. He knew what the crowd expected, to see him, Decimus, wielding his gladius and massacring the other fighters.

One of the gladiators yelled in fury as he smashed his double-headed axe in the ribs of his opponent, who fell to his knees slowly, and darted forward, his face hitting the sand.

Looking for the next challenger, he turned around and saw something that made him frown in surprise. A fighter standing still, his head covered by a black helmet, his hands crossed on his back. He seemed not be part of this world, part of the fight. He seemed not to notice what was happening around him.

The red-bearded gladiator headed reluctantly to Decimus, not knowing what to expect. This was his first fight, and he just wanted to be among the five surviving gladiators.

If I kill him, I’ll have more chance to get out alive, he told himself.

He thought he knew who the mysterious fighter was. He had heard about the Demon of the Arena, but he did not think that this man could be him.

People always said that this demon fighter was the first one to clash the swords and kill in the fight.

He glanced around, realizing that, he too, was exposing his back. He was relieved to see that nobody had pay attention to him.

He grabbed hold of his ax more strongly. He was closer to the fighter now.
I can take him with one blow. He raised the axe to the level of his shoulders, shouting to give himself courage, and swung it to the man’s neck.

His eyes flickered in shock as the steel entered his stomach and twisted inside, perforating his organs. He screamed in surprise more than in pain.

He stared downward only to see the short blade going up his body, ripping through his chest.

"Too slow," he heard the voice of the gladiator said.

Blood poured from his mouth and all became darkness.

Decimus pulled his gladius clear from the chest of the dead man. The corpse fell to the sand. In a glimpse, a pool of blood covered the place where lay.

He looked at his gladius, scanning the steel with his right hand, until it touched fresh blood.

It was all he needed…to begin the killing.

He dashed forward to the fight. The crowd shouted as it realized that Decimus, the Gladiator of the Sand, The Demon of the Arena, was finally fighting. His lips curved in a demonic smile.

The spectacle is about to start, he thought.

He met the first gladiator, who wore no more than a gladius and a small, round shield. Decimus’ gladius flashed two times, and both times, it entered the flesh. His opponent was dead without even realizing what had happened.

Two more gladiators went to his encounter. The first tried to stab him with his spear. He sidestepped and grabbed it with his free hand. He cut the throat of the spearman as he tried to pull the spear free from the grab of Decimus.

Decimus spun to his heel to meet the attack of the other gladiator, he parried the thrust easily, as if it was something not worth doing. Suddenly, the spear came forward, stacking lightly the fighter in the throat.
He leapt and reached for the man’s hand, grabbing the gladius as he fell.

Turning around, he saw that there were fewer fighters now. The fight was about to be over soon.

Another ax swung over his head and again he bent downward, causing the ax-wielder to lose his balance as the ax passed by his head. He stabbed the man in the tendons of his left foot. The gladiator, unable to stand, dropped to the ground. Decimus’ blades gleamed as he beheaded the kneeling man with thee two gladius.

The trumpets sounded.

Decimus looked up; there were only four gladiators standing, and him.

Twenty-one more lay on the ground. Dead.

The crowd’s shouts erupted like a volcano inside the stadium, shouting something that Decimus always heard at the end of each fight. His name.

He knew that for the crowd, the others survivors did not matter or exist. It was only him; he had given them the spectacle they had wanted.

Decimus stared at the four gladiators and saw that they were exhausted; sweat running through their foreheads. They did not pay attention to the crowd either. They were just enjoying being alive.

The black doors opened again and the gladiators headed toward it. Decimus stared at them until they were of sight, inside the Rooms of Doom.

He looked at the emperor and bowed his head. Then he did what he had always done. He raised his gladius to the air. He let the smell of death and blood enter his nose. The crowd shouted his name repeatedly.

They loved Decimus, the Gladiator of the Sand, the Demon of the Arena, the Crowd’s Favorite.

Decimus put down his gladius, and sheathed it. Then he remembered that he had another one. He looked at it and thought about tossing it aside.

The thought left his mind as soon as it came.
He held it on his hand, touching the bloody steel with the other, feeling the hot blood on his fingers, the blood of his victims.

Decimus walked towards the Gates of Life and Death. The crowd did not stop the clamoring even as he stepped inside the Rooms of Doom.

 

[veggiedog]

Hi Duvodas!
I will read and review this this weekend, when I have more time...glad to see you've written more about gladiators.
Veggiedog

P.S. Does the name 'Decimus' have a meaning? It looks kind of like 'decimal' or 'decade'. All I know is that the prefix 'dec' indicates 'ten' or something. Just ignore me

 

[Duvodas]

Hey Veggiedog! I'm happy that you took, or will take, a look at this piece. Warning, this is not the Decimus you read about in the other story. This one is a psycho, a merciless killer!

Regarding the name, yes, it does have a meaning, Decimus comes from the word "decimate" which means "To destroy or kill a large part of (a group).". So, it quite fits his new personality.

 

[veggiedog]

Hey Veggiedog! I'm happy that you took, or will take, a look at this piece. Warning, this is not the Decimus you read about in the other story. This one is a psycho, a merciless killer!

Regarding the name, yes, it does have a meaning, Decimus comes from the word "decimate" which means "To destroy or kill a large part of (a group).". So, it quite fits his new personality.

Thanks for the heads up, Duvodas! I would have been very confused otherwise.
I should have made that decimate-Decimus connection. I feel very silly now.
I promise I will read your story more thoroughly and review it tomorrow.

Veggiedog

 

[veggiedog]

I'll just make a few quick changes/suggestions in red (a lot of these are probably just typos anyway) directly in the text.

The Chronicles of Decimus

Death was calling to Decimus.

He could feel it running through his veins; whispering in his ears, resounding in the walls of his memory.

Decimus strode (just trying to choose a more interesting word; grammatically 'walked' works just as well) to the table where his gladius rested, which was engulfed (clarification of which is engulfed, the gladius or Decimus) by the light of the rising sun penetrating (this is a bit smoother) the bars of the small cell. He stopped and stood still, just before reaching the side (try to avoid repitition of words such as 'edge' within the same paragraph) of the table. He stared at his gladius. It had fresh blood on the edge.

His lips twisted into a smile as he thought of whose blood it was (it just flows a bit better).

* You should indicate somehow that this is a flashback. I was a bit confused. *

The young slave, Nicanus, had come to bring him food and water. Decimus did not know the boy but he had seen the frightened look in his (you don't need to clarify here if you don't want to) eyes from the moment the slave (instead you could clarify here, if you like) had entered the cell. He knew the youth had to be scared. Decimus had built his reputation on fear.

Nicanus walked quickly ('rapidly' does not work quite as well in context) to the table and placed there, with trembling hands, the water (was the slave bringing water or wine? You may want to stick with one to avoid confusion.) and the plate full of meat. Then, turning back (since he is turning to the opposite direction, 'back' works just as well as 'around') he began (again, just my word choice preference) to leave as he had entered.

Decimus’ voice filled the room with uneasiness.

“Why, are we leaving so soon ('we' and 'soon' complete the idiom) boy?”

The youth spun on his heel and glanced at the gladiator. Not able to hold the gladiator's (it is necessary to clarify, but you may want to) eyes, he lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“Are you mute * (The word 'perhaps' makes him sound too polite, unless you meant it to be used teasingly)” Decimus asked and chuckled.

“No, sir,” Nicanus managed to say.

“Then why don’t you answer me? I’m not a man known for ('who's' is unecessary) his patience.”

“I’m sorry, sir… I...I meant no offense,” the youth said, still looking at the floor. “I--I've given you your food, sir, and I...ehm...have other work to do." (Originally it sounded a bit sophisticated for a young slave, so I changed it to sound a bit more convincing...the extra 'sir' gives a sense of submissiveness.)

Decimus watched (I think you have already used 'stared' at least once) Nicanus from the table. He noticed that his feet were shaking.

“Come closer,” he said, pointing to (it can be assumed that he is pointing with his finger) where he wanted the youth to stand (you have just used 'come' and used the past tense in the next paragraph) Close enough to him.

Nicanus came reluctantly to Decimus, still not daring to look at him directly * (we know it is the eyes that Nicanus does not want to look at).

“Why are you afraid of me, boy?”

“I’m n-no--” (A stutter makes him sound more afraid, if he is supposed to be. However, if you are having him muster up his courage and sound brave, then just ignore me , a dash indicates a cut-off)

“Yes, you are,” he cut him off. “Your voice does not lie and neither do your legs. Now look at my eyes. Look at them I * (the word 'damn' doesn't quite fit...was the word 'damn' in use before gladiators?) say!”

Nicanus slowly raised his head until he met the man’s eyes. He suddenly backed off (more flow, 'spontaneously' is a bit out of context) Without him realizing (you want the reader to know who is realizing, 'it' becomes unecessary), a tear poured from his left eye and channeled down (are you sure you meant 'furrowed'?) his cheek.

Decimus laughed loudly. He knew what the youth had seen in his eyes.

“Do you know who I am, boy?” asked Decimus after a pause that seemed too last ages to Nicarus.

“You’re Decimus, the Gladiator of the Sand, sir,” Nicarus said, trying not to sob.

“Yes I am that,” Decimus said.

Suddenly Decimus reached out and dragged the youth forward by the skirt. His forehead touched Nicarus’. He watched as the frightened boy closed his eyes not to meet his again.

“But I’m also a demon!” Decimus cried (no real reason; I have always preferred 'cried' to 'yelled'; you should clarify who 'he' is)

A blade glimmered in the light. The boy gave a dreadful scream of pain and Decimus released (using 'his grab' doesn't make much sense to me, 'released' is a better word for 'let go').

Nicarus frenetically pressed (the adverb works better before the verb, you may want to replace 'frenetically' with a word that works better in context) his hand on his left cheek. It had been all so sudden that he could do nothing but to stare quizzically at the gladiator.

Cursing himself, he ran to the door as quickly ('fast' is not an adverb) as he could and scurried (he didn't really 'step,' did he? He was running!) out of the cell. Decimus did not try to stop him.

Decimus glanced at the bloody gladius. He held in his hand for a while, lost in thought, and then he put it on the table. He reached for the wine...

Decimus smiled as the memory left his head. The young gladiator always liked to see blood on his blade before fighting. He loved the sight of it. It made his own blood surge (to say it made his blood 'boil' implies that it makes him angry. Also see if you can find a word to replace his 'blood' as you have just used it twice seconds ago. If not, it is not that important.)

He felt the urgent need to kill, to see the red liquid pour from the wound, to hear the screams of his victims.

“Soon, my dear”, he muttered to himself as he reached for the short blade. Gripping (I think you meant 'gripping'?) it by the hilt, he drew it close to his face, to his nose. He breathed slowly and profoundly, (the adverbs work better in the opposite order) letting the smell of the blood fill his lungs. He closed his eyes in ecstasy.

He sheathed the sword and looked for his helmet. It was in the chair where he had left it when he had returned ('returned' is a better word than 'come') from the last fight. He took the helmet and put it on. It covered half of his face, from nose to forehead, just leaving two big holes for his eyes.

He heard the trumpets and the cheer of the crowd following. Those sounds could only mean one thing for him: the fight was about to start.

Decimus headed to the cell door. He would fight soon…and would kill soon. He grasped the hilt of the gladius firmly (I think that 'firmly' more accurately represents his grip) enough to make his knuckles crack.

Again, he heard death calling to him.


These are just some of my suggestions. There are only a few grammatical changes. The rest have more to do with word choice, which may or may not be taken seriously, as these changes are obviously not as important. Your word choice depends on the underlying feelings/messages that you are trying to convey. Certain subtleties in your structure I may not be able to see, so please excuse me if some of my suggestions seem trivial. I think I will review the second half tomorrow, as it is nearly time for me to go to bed, and I has been as busy day.

TTFN,
Veggiedog

EDIT: As a footnote, good job so far! This is a huge improvement from last time.

 

[Duvodas]

Thanks for the criticism, Veggiedog! I really liked some of your suggestions, for sure I will make some arrangements regarding the issue. As for the flashback, I always have trouble with those, but yeah, it did seem a litle bit confusing. Should have developed more that paragraph.

I'm guessing you liked the new Decimus, for you said this one was a big improvement. Well, the really good stuff is about to come now! Be warned: Extreme violence, lol.

Duvodas

Note: Do you know how to edit a thread in this forum? I just don't find the right buttom. BTW, and excuse my ignorance but, what does TTFN mean?Thanks

 

[mehastings]

Note: Do you know how to edit a thread in this forum? I just don't find the right buttom. BTW, and excuse my ignorance but, what does TTFN mean?Thanks

You can only edit posts for the first fifteen minutes. Sorry

TTFN = Ta-Ta For Now

 

[Duvodas]

Thank you very much!

 

[veggiedog]

Hi Duvodas, I apologize for needing a couple of days to get back to on the second part. I am shamefully inept with computers, and after writing a long reply yesterday, my computer somehow ate it
So I redid it. It follows the same format as last time. Here it is:

Decimus walked swiftly in the dark hallways. A few torches hanging on the walls, placed here and there, scarcely illuminated his way. He did not need them. He could walk the hallways with his eyes closed and without losing his footing (this is what you probably meant) or bumping into ('hitting' could confuse readers with 'punching') the walls. He knew the path to the Rooms of Doom well (it sounds smoother after the readers know the noun, and how well he knew it afterwards, I would suggest omitting 'enough'), for he had walked them many times and always came back alive, or at worst, wounded (this shows the reader that he is not usually wounded). There, all the gladiators, about to meet death, ('about to meet death' works better as an appositive, or you could omit the commas if you the description is important, you don't need 'who were') congregated before stepping out to the Arena to fight. It was a chance to size up their victims, their partners, or their slayers (they probably just don't want to 'glance,' but calculate weaknesses, strength, etc.).

His ears filled with the sound of yelling crowd coming from above him (since the head is the highest part of the body, you only need 'him'). He knew. He knew that they were waiting for him.

Decimus heard the sound of steel * ( you may want to describe how it the steel sounds, i.e. 'He heard the clange of metal against metal' or something as you have just used 'sound' in the paragraph above) as he came closer to the Rooms of Doom * (Just of curiosity, what are the 'Rooms of Doom'?) He followed the sound in the darkness until he stood in front of a big, black door, shaped like an arc: the entrance to the Rooms of Doom (this just runs a bit smoother). The big door was opened.

He stepped inside.

Torches hung around the walls as well, luminescing (you may want to use a word other than 'illuminating' as you used it when first describing the torches) the room. No sunlight reached (sunlight doesn't exactly 'enter') it except for ('but' makes the sentence a little confusing--I had to read it twice) when the Gates of Life and Death were (as you said the big door 'was' opened, it would be a good idea to include the participle when referring to the gates) opened to let the gladiators out to the fight, or to let them (clarification) inside again, either dead or alive.

Decimus looked about ('around' makes me feel as though his eyes are wandering aimlessly) through the holes of his helmet. He noticed (was it a realization or an observation?) that many fighters were staring at him. He could discern the fear (you just used 'look' above) in their eyes.

The trumpets sounded once more, and the uneasiness was gone.

The fighters formed a straight line in front of the Gates of Life and Death, stretching their feet, shaking their heads, staring at their weapons.

Decimus stood last (work on smoother sentence structure) in the column. He chuckled as the fighter in front of him risked a glance behind (he didn't really glance at his back, did he?) and turned his head again quickly (just my preferred word choice).

The black gates opened and the sunlight flooded the ('penetrated' suggests that the rays shone through a wall) Rooms of Doom. Several (you use the word 'many' a lot) of the gladiators placed a hand on their foreheads, * ('trying' is implied) to block the light from overwhelming their vision. The cheering (you have already mentioned the crowd's 'yelling') of the crowd filled each man with either courage or fear.

One by one, the gladiators stepped outside the Rooms of Doom into the Arena. The crowd shouted loudest when the last gladiator, with his face covered by a black helmet, entered * (we already know they are all entering the Arena, no need to repeat).

The gladiators marched steadily to the center of the Arena, forming a straight line. Facing the emperor, who was sitting on his throne * (omit comma) ten feet above the crowd, they raised their weapons to him.

The emperor stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony. The crowd suddenly began to mutter (smoothness).

“We are about to die salute you,” all the gladiators said at the same time.

The emperor bowed his head and clasped his hands twice, * (the clasping of the hands is the signal, right? let readers know that) the signal to start.

The gladiators dispersed slowly throughout the Arena, ready to fight, looking at each other, searching the slightest sign of hesitation (just word choice preferences).

Decimus did not move from where he had given his oath. He stood there, his head down, eyes looking at the sand. His hands crossed together, grabbing nothing but the air. His sword was sheathed (can a sword be sheathed on its own? I'm confused with all these weapon terms ).

The sound of * ('two is unnecessary as there would probably be many clashing swords) clashing swords followed by a scream hung in the air (You used the phrase 'filled the air' before). The crowd stood from their seats and cheered hysterically.

The fight had begun.

Decimus closed his eyes.

He heard the continuous clash of the steel against steel. He loved that sound. It could mean only ('only' sounds better here) one thing: time to kill. Yet, he stood there, his back to the fight, making no move, no killing (this is my personal preference again; more readers would probably prefer the origina way ). He knew what the crowd had expected: to see him, Decimus, wielding his gladius and massacring the other fighters.

One of the gladiators yelled in fury as he smashed his double-headed axe in the ribs of his opponent. The victim's knees buckled, and he fell forward, his face hitting the sand (more word choice).

Looking for his next challenger, the killer (try to find some form of clarification as to who is turning around) turned around and saw something that made him frown in surprise. A fighter standing still, his head covered by a black helmet, his hands crossed on his back. He seemed not be part of this world, much less part of the fight. He appeared (try not to overuse 'seem') not to notice what was happening around him.

The red-bearded gladiator headed hesitancy (hesitancy shows more uncertainty) to Decimus, not knowing what to expect. This was his first fight, and all he wanted was to be among the five surviving gladiators.

If I kill him, I’ll have a greater chance of getting out alive, he told himself.

He thought he knew who the mysterious fighter was. He had heard about the Demon of the Arena, but he did not think that this man could be him. * If he did not think Decimus was the 'Demon of the Arena,' who did he think Decimus was? *

People always said that the demon fighter was the first one to clash the swords and kill in the fight.

He glanced about nervously (how is he glancing?), realizing that, he too, was exposing his back. He was relieved to see that nobody had paid attention to him.

He grabbed hold of his ax more firmly. He was closer to the fighter now.
I can take him with one blow. He raised the axe to the level of his shoulders, shouting to give himself courage, and swung it to the man’s neck.

His eyes flickered in shock as the steel entered his stomach and twisted inside, perforating his organs. He screamed in surprise more than in pain.

He stared downward only to see the short blade going up his torso (more specific), ripping through his chest.

"Too slow," he heard the voice of the gladiator say.

Blood poured from his mouth and all became darkness.

EDIT: I had to delete about half my post because I went over the word limit. I'll retype and repost it later. Sorry.

 

[veggiedog]

Hello Duvodas,

I'm going to rewrite the rest of the review tomorrow. I have been very busy today, and am suffocating under a pile of homework. Sorry for the delay

Veggiedog

 

[Duvodas]

Take your time, my friend. First help yourself and then the others. Thanks anyway.

Duvodas

 

[veggiedog]

Blood poured from his mouth, and all became darkness (two seperate clauses).

Decimus pulled his gladius clear from the chest of the dead man. The corpse fell to the sand. Within a few seconds (in a glimpse doesn't really make me think of a time frame, if that is what you are conveying) a pool of blood covered the place where lay.

He examined ('examined' may not be right word, but 'looked' is overused) his gladius, with his right hand gliding along the steel (scanning makes me think of eye function, omit comma) until it touched fresh blood.

It was all he needed to begin * (not saying what was begun leaves the reader with some momentary suspense; they will understand when they read on).

He dashed into the fight (we are assuming he didn't dash backwards). The crowd shouted as it realized that Decimus, the Gladiator of the Sand, the Demon of the Arena (keep the capitalization of articles in titles consistent), was finally fighting (I just highlighted this because you ay want to find another word for 'fighting' as you have used 'fight' just above). His lips curved in a demonic smile.

The real spectacle is yet to begin, he thought. (This is the basic idiom, the way you did it was okay, though.)

He met the first gladiator, who held no more than a gladius and a small, round shield (was he wearing clothes, even a loincloth? I'm not familiar with gladiator customs...). Decimus’ gladius flashed only twice (if you want to emphasize that it was 'two times,' keep it the way you had it) and both times, it was met with flesh (better flow). His opponent was dead before even realizing what had happened.

Two more gladiators went to his encounter. The first tried to stab Decimus (clarify who he was stabbing so we know whose spear it was) with his spear. Decimus (clarify, since you have a new subject) sidestepped the attack (clarify what he is sidestepping) and grabbed the spear with his free hand. He cut the throat of the spearman as he tried to pull the spear free from * Decimus (you don't need to clarify Demicus' hold).

Decimus spun on his heel to meet the attack of the other gladiator. He (two seperate clauses) parried the thrust easily, as executed by a child (I'm sure it was worth doing). Suddenly, the spear (what spear?) came forward, stacking lightly the fighter in the throat.
Decimus (clarify who is who) leapt and reached for the man’s hand, nabbing (try not to overuse 'grab') the gladius as he fell.

After turning around, he saw that there were few fighters left(smooth structure). The fight was about to end (quicker, easier).

Another ax swung over his head and again he bent downward, causing the ax-wielder to lose his balance as the ax passed by his head * (to many 'his's; try to clarify). He stabbed the man in the left ankle (this would make more sense to readers, I would think) The gladiator, unable to stand, dropped to the ground. Decimus’ blades gleamed as he beheaded the kneeling man with thee two gladius.

The trumpets sounded.

Decimus looked up; there were only four other gladiators standing, and him.

Twenty-one more lay on the ground. Dead.

The crowd’s shouts erupted * inside the stadium (the metaphor doesn't really help, 'erupted' alone is fine), shouting something that Decimus always heard at the end of a fight (no need to use 'always' and 'each' both). His name.

He knew that to the crowd, the other survivors did not matter or exist; only he had given them the spectacle they had wanted.

Decimus observed the four gladiators (don't overuse 'stare') and saw that they were exhausted; sweat running sweat their foreheads. They did not pay attention to the crowd either. They were just relieved to be alive (fits more into context).

The black doors opened again and the gladiators headed toward it. Decimus watched ('stare' overusage) them until they were of sight, inside the Rooms of Doom.

He met the emperor's eyes (out of curiousity, which emperor?) and bowed his head. Then he did what he had always done: he raised his gladius to the air (works better). He let the smell of death and blood fill his nose. The crowd shouted his name * (it is implied that they would shout his name repeatedly).

They adored ( they didn't exactly 'love' him, did they?) Decimus, the Gladiator of the Sand, the Demon of the Arena * (the fact the crowd loves him tells us that he is the Crowd's Favorite--that is not why they love him).

Decimus set down his gladius, and sheathed it. Then he remembered that he had another one. He looked at it and thought about tossing it aside.
Why does he think about tossing it aside, just because he has another?

The thought immediately left his mind.
He held it in one (indicates he is doing something with hand, something else with the other) hand, touching the bloody steel with the other, feeling the hot blood on his fingers. The blood of his victims (I know this is a fragment, but it sounds better this way).

Decimus walked towards the Gates of Life and Death. The crowd did not stop clamoring for a glimpse ('the' unecessary, as 'clamor' is a verb, explain why they are clamoring) even as he stepped inside the Rooms of Doom.

Well done, Duvodas. I'm commend you for doing your research on gladiator weapons, fighting methods, customary behavior, etc. The format is the same. The underlined portions are parts that I was confused about or didn't understand. I asked a few questions in red and in parentheses. Continue writing!

Veggiedog