He held his knife backwards in his hand so the blade rested on his forearm, he dodged to the left to avoid the clumsy attack of his opponent, spun the knife and drove it deep into his back.

The crowd cheered. He took small comfort in the fact that they didn’t specifically want him dead, either of them would suffice for the crowd.

The other man stumbled and fell to his knees, but after a second started to climb back to his feet. He didn’t wait for him to get all the way standing, he rushed over and leapt at the man and tackled him. He pulled the knife out of the man’s back and rolled him over.

He sat on the man’s stomach driving his fists into his face over and over, and blood began to spatter on his clothes and arms. He stopped beating the man and looked into the crowd and following the urgings of their cheers he drove the knife into his throat, killing him.

He woke up with a start. He was shaking, and crying. He had no blood on him, but he still could feel the man dying under him.

“What the hell?”