The Fight

The stinking scent of sweat bled over the audience who were crammed into the small box-like stadium. The deafening roar of repeated names "Bomber!" and "Gun!" exploded through the dank, dark air. Cramped and confined. Arms couldn't budge. Eyes couldn't see. They could hardly breathe. The electric atmosphere shocked the punters and made them tingle in anticipation for the bloody match they were about to witness. A loud applause created by spectators at the front of the ring signified the fighter's entrance. It rippled backwards into a repetitive rhythm that made everyone tense in the prospect of observing the crimson liquid spouting from the deserving victims. Abruptly, music started blaring, like a horn announcing the beginning of a battle - which this was. Cries and cheers drowned out the chorus of clapping as the fighters emerged one after the other from a small room in which they had been lurking... waiting.
The first was greeted by blaring boos, jostling jeers and hideous hisses. He replied by smirking arrogantly and briskly strode towards the arena. This man was "Bomber." True to his name "Gun" then shot out and was welcomed in a total reverse way to the previous man. Optimistic calls were deafening as Gun pushed his way through a mob of rapid arm gestures towards autograph book and pen wielding fans. He jumped into the ring, eyed-up his opponent and cricked his neck. Gradually, the racket reduced itself down to a dull roar.

"Ding ding!"