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The Arena


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The Arena

What if wrestling wasn’t fake?

This is an imaginary story

Hells aren’t they all? Isn’t that what wrestling’s all about? Isn’t that why we tune in? For the Spectacle?

We tune in each week hoping to see our favourite win. Hoping to see the villain loose. Hoping to be entertained. Yet it’s always there, in the back of our minds. That niggling thought that it’s not real. That all we are watching is two actors putting on a show. That our cheers don’t really push the wrestlers on. That the story lines are played out for our entertainment only. That it’s all just a show

But what if it wasn’t?

What if it was real? What if when Triple H and Chris Beniot where really locked in combat. What if Mick Foleys dive off the cell hadn’t been planned?

But the story goes deeper than that. Any one that knows history knows about gladiators. The brave souls who gave up their lives for the entertainment of the fans. Who fought and died on the floor of the arena. Who’s lives lay in the hands of the emperor.

We all know how the empire fell, how the coliseum lies in ruins. How tourists have replaced the cheering crowds, taking snap shots of ruins.

We all know the story

But what if it was different.

There are those that believe that circumstances don’t dictate our destiny. That no matter what happens, we do what we were meant to do. That our souls find their place in history.

This is not an on going Diary. It has a beginning, middle and like all things it has an end. This is a story. This is the story of souls trying to find their place, In a world far different from the one you know

500 BC. Year 52 of the Emperors Reign.

Rick Fuller stood on the arena floor. His hands clasped tightly around his weapon. It was a short sword. On his arm was strapped a wooden shield, flimsy weapons considering who he was about to face. . Sweat poured down his cheeks. The anticipation was tearing him apart. He knew he was going to die. The thousands of cheering fans were chanting for his blood. They had come to see a fight. They had come to be entertained. They had come for a show

Well if he was going to die he might as well put on a good show.

He beat his sword against his chest. Yelling his defiance to the crowd.

But his voice was lost in the chant.

It was all around him, filling his ears like an ocean.

The crowd wanted blood, but more of all they wanted


Fuller swallowed harshly, trying to fight to urge to turn tail and run. He knew if he did, the guards lined up on the arena walls would shoot him. Better to die fighting

Then the gates opened. Large wooden doors that were pulled open by slaves.

And threw the gates, he strode.

Goldberg, the man they said was un killable. The man who had never lost a battle. Who had a win record 145-0.

He was a mountain of muscle. Every part of his body seemed designed for killing. In his hand was clutched his two weapons. A long black ash spear and a black steel hammer. The combination had finished off hundreds of people.

Fuller braced himself as Goldberg strutted across the Coliseum floor. The roar of the crowd was deafening.

He had no choice


He charged forward, his sword drawn, ready to hack at Goldberg.

Goldberg didn’t even blink as he hurled the spear. Fuller screamed as it dug into his chest. Ripping away his rib cage and tearing at his flesh. He fell to one knee. Coughing up blood.

Goldberg advanced. His face a picture of intensity

He stood in front of Fuller. Fuller looked up at him. His eyes begging. Goldberg turned.

And cast his eyes up to the Emperor. Waiting for the signal.

The Emperor pondered a moment

Then turned his thumb toward the ground. The crowd erupted into a now familiar chant

“Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill”

Goldberg raised the Hammer and swung down with brutal strength

And Rick Fuller died

Emperor Vince McMahon Smiled. It had been a good bout

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Emperor McMahon lounged in his seat. A half-empty golden cup of wine in his hands. His eyes closed in thought. Despite the lavish surroundings that he lived in, it was a bad time to be Emperor. There were those calling for a Revolution. To oust him and make Rome a democracy or a Republic. What was worse was the People were listening. The winds of change were blowing and he was in their way

He needed a distraction. Something to keep the people interested. Like many of his predecessors he had chosen the Games as that distraction. He had created an entire Industry around the Games. Thousands of Gladiators had been enslaved, captured or employed to fuel the people’s interest in the games.

One of them was Goldberg

Goldberg was amazingly popular with the people. His unbeaten streak was the number one topic of conversation on the streets of Rome. There was little talk of Revolution.

But the people were growing Tired. Goldberg had no one credible to challenge him. No one the people wanted to see him fight.

So the Emperor had an Idea. A brilliant Idea. They would have a tournament. A tournament to find the greatest Gladiator in Rome. The winner would face Goldberg himself. And to the winner of that match?


It was incredibly rare for any Gladiator to be granted Freedom. What a prize it would be for His Tournament. What a spectacle he would Create.

And when the People saw him, striding across the floor of the Arena to give one of the Gladiators their freedom, they would love him

He would be Safe.

McMahon Smiled at his own brilliance

What could go wrong?


There was going to be a Tournament!

Everyone in Rome was talking about it.

20 gladiators would fight and the last two left standing would Fight the un killable Goldberg. Then the Emperor himself would give who ever were left alive their freedom.

Thousands of People had brought Tickets to the Games. The list of Gladiators had been announced. What was a real surprise is that 3 Woman had been included in the Tournament. Clearly the Emperor wanted the best Woman gladiators to have a chance at Freedom. Also surprising was the inclusion of a captured Thief from the south. Apparently he was stealthy and could put up a good fight. McMahon had chosen him personally, everyone loved an Underdog.

The list of Gladiators for the Tournament was…

AJ Styles

Jeff Hardy

CM Punk


Hulk Hogan

Hunter Hemsley

Mick Foley



Scott Hall

Christopher Daniel’s

Trish Stratus

Jeff Jarrett

The Rock

Steve Austin

Kurt Angle

Terry Funk

Chris Beniot

John Cena

Ric Flair

They would put on a show the world would never forget.


OOC: The first couple of round will allow the audience to decide of they want to see a beaten Worker die or just be eliminated from the Tournament. The last couple of rounds will be first one to die looses so then it will all be up to me.

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Prison food

It tasted like crap but Jeff Hardy knew he had to eat it anyway. Still it was hard to put it in his mouth when he was sure that the cook had spat in it. Hardy looked round the eating room. All it had was three large wooden tables, placed end to end. He sat alone, eating from a small bowl, trying to some up the courage to swallow the mash they had been given. Him and 19 others had been placed in specially built quarters. They were the participants of a tournament. Hardy didn’t really care. All he wanted to do was to spend his last few hours on earth in peace. He felt out of place here, these other men and women were all Gladiators. He had been put in the tournament simply because he wasn’t. The Emperor had wanted people to cheer for him before he died. The sheer thought of it made him sick.

He was in the middle of pushing the spoon to his mouth when someone sat down beside him. Hardy turned to see who it was

It was Mick Foley

Hardy didn’t know much about Foley. Only that he had a reputation for being one of the most brutal fighters in the Games. He was also apparently a very nice guy. He smiled a warm smile at Hardy.

Foley: Hey, I’ve never seen you before. I’m Mick Foley

Hardy: Um……..I’m Jeff

Foley: Right. So you’re the underdog every ones been talking about huh?

Hardy: Sigh. Yeah that’s me.

Foley: I feel bad for you, I really do. But why are you siting by your self? Come on I’ll show you around

Hardy: I’m fine thanks. I just want to be left alone

Foley: Fine, Have it your way. Good luck for Tomorrow though. If you want to go have a look at the notice boards, there are the bout listings. Were going to be split up into five groups of four. We fight till one of us is beaten and then the Emperor judges them. The other three move on

Hardy: So you mean only one of us gets eliminated?

Foley: Yep, Ha I guess they are trying to drag on the tournament for as long as possible huh. Oh well. Bye

Foley walked off. Hardy noticed he did in fact seem like a nice guy. Hardy hated the fact that they mind end up having to kill each other. Hell He hated this whole bloody place.


Steve Austin dropped his bag on his bunk. He looked round his small quarters. He was sharing with 4 other people. Each of them had been provided with only a small bunk to sleep on. He looked round the room, taking in the face’s of his room. Lying on the first bunk was AJ Styles. Austin had been smart and had done his research on the other Gladiators. Styles was smaller than most, but he made up for it with his deadly speed. Styles usually chose to fight with a pair of small daggers. He attacked with them at lightning speed, dealing death. Styles smiled at Austin and waved to him as he walked in. In the bunk above Styles was Christopher Daniels. Daniels was famous for being very religious. He had converted to Judaism early in his life and was an avid follower of it. Daniels was also borderline crazy and was known to mutter to himself in Hebrew before he killed his opponents. He used a long sword as his Weapon and was a force to be reckoned with. On the other bunk was John Cena. Cena had been a minstrel in a travelling court before the scouts had captured him and forced him to fight. Cena was very popular for his habit of composing songs before his matches. He was also famous for his use of spiked gloves as Weapons. And the man on the top bunk?

Austin smiled heavily to himself as the man sat up

It was The Rock

Austin and the Rock went way back. They had both been brought into the games at the same time. Austin knew Rock very well. He practically knew everything about him, except for his name. The Rock had earned his Nick Name for use of his favourite Weapon. A large Club that he used to crush his opponents skulls. The Rock had been captured by Traders who had got blown of course and landed in the Rocks native country. The Rock was feared as a brutal foreign warrior, feared by every one but Austin that is.

Rock: Well this Tournament has just gone to the dogs, They are letting any one in. I thought this was for the talented only

Austin Laughed

Austin: Well they let you in didn’t they?

As Austin laughed he was silently noting to himself how use full a friend could be in this Tournament.


Jeff Hardy stood in front of the notice Board. The guards had posted the first group of four that was to fight in the Arena Tomorrow. He fought back tears of sadness as he saw his name at the top of the list.

Jeff Hardy

Steve Austin

The Rock

Mick Foley

Hardy gasped to himself. Was that why Foley had been talking to him? Was he secretly testing his opponent? Hardy knew Foley was supposed to be a nice guy but he couldn’t help wondering was Foley planning his death even as they talked?

Hardy knew Foleys reputation

Little did he know he was about to find out about it First Hand

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The Next Mourning

Jeff Hardy stood in the entrance Tunnel. He was sweating under the heat of the armour he wore. It was a sleeve less chest plate and a large helmet. He had been given a Trident and A Net to use as a Weapon. He knew the general idea was to catch your opponent in the net and then spear them with the Trident. But he had received no training in how to accomplish that. In fact he had no idea what he was doing. The guards had addressed all four of them on what they were too do. They would each enter the Arena through two entrance tunnels. Austin and Rock in one Tunnel, Foley and Hardy from the other. They would run out into a ring drawn in the centre of the Arena. Once inside that ring they would be allowed to fight each other. Once someone was beaten they would be judged by the Emperor and eliminated from the tournament. Hardy swallowed in fear and looked at Foley. Foley smiled back at him

Foley: Don’t worry kid, you’ll be fine. Just remember the pointy end goes in the other guy okay?

Hardy managed a slight chuckle. He stopped him self though when he saw what Foley was Wielding. It was a huge Axe. Curved and sharp as hell. What was worse was the blade was dented from being used on Helmets. Foley smiled as he saw Hardy looking at his Axe.

Foley: Nice isn’t it. I had it made especially for me.

Hardy: Um yeah it’s great

There it was again. A strange feeling of mistrust for Foley. Was it that he was being too nice? Was he just being a little too helpful. Hardy had made up his mind. He would let Foley reach the Ring first., Just in case Foley got any ideas about Axing Hardy in the back

Hardy didn’t trust Foley, Not one bit


Meanwhile in the other Entrance tunnel. Rock and Austin where going over their plan one more time.

Austin: You keep Foley busy I’ll get rid of the new kid

Rock: All right but make It quick. I don’t want to get to close to his Axe.

The Rock turned his weapon over in his hands. It was a Crossbow. A bad one yes but a ranged weapon none the less. This way he could stay out of Foleys Axe Range and attack him. As long as Foley stayed away from him, Austin would be able to take care of Hardy with the short Sword and Shield he had been given.

It was all going perfectly according to plan

Then the gates began to open. And the roar of the crowd filled their ears

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Foley bellowed his war cry as he sprinted across the sands of the Arena. Jeff Hardy just a few steps behind him, yelling his anger at the top of his lungs. Across the Arena came Rock and Austin. As soon as Rocks feet touched the ring he drew up his cross bow and fired a bolt. With a roar Foley swung his axe, deflecting the bolt which crashed harmlessly to the floor. Rock gasped, that bolt was meant to sow Foley Down. Instead the man came charging, his Axe raised High.

Meanwhile Austin had charged at Hardy, His sword flying in an arch that Hardy barely managed to avoid. He brought his Trident up to block the next blow, Austin’s sword hit the steel shaft with a clang that sent jolts through Hardy’s Arm. Austin brought his other arm round in a punch. The danger who’s not the fist but the Shield attached to Austin’s Arm. The Shield was oak and round, but the edges were steel and razor sharp. The blades dug into Hardy’s Arm. Tearing the flesh and leaving a large red wound. Hardy screamed and Stepped backwards. Austin swung his sword again and Hardy was barely Able to Dodge it. He was better prepared this time and stabbed forward with His Trident, aiming right for the chest of Steve Austin. With a loud Clang Austin brought his shield up just in time to avoid being impaled. There was a huge roar from the crowd as the 4 men went at it tooth and nail

Jeff pulled his Trident out of Austin’s shield and backed off. The two men circled each other. Each waiting for the other to make the first move. It was Austin who attacked first. Charging with his Sword out stretched, looking to run Hardy Through. Hardy blocked it using his Trident, which he noted he was getting quite good with. Then with a brutal clank he brought the end of it smashing down into the Face of Steve Austin. A snap and a huge trail of blood showing that Austin’s nose was broken. Hardy looked to follow it up by bringing the pointed end of the Trident up for An Attack, Only to have Austin swing blindly with the Shield. The razor edge caught Hardy in the chest, Not cutting deep enough to kill but deep enough to hurt like hell. Hardy screamed and thrust Blindly with the Trident. It dug deep into Austin’s Shoulder, Missing his armour and going in one side and out the other. Austin screamed as Hardy let go of the Spear and fell backwards. His hands on his chest, Desperately trying to stop the blood that gushed from the hole in his Armour.

Mean while Foley had reached Rock. With a swing of his Axe the two men met in Combat. Rock ducked the Axe and tried to fire a Bolt off at close range, Only to have Foley kick the Cross Bow out of his hand. Foley swung the Axe again and Rock barley managed to escape. Foley kicked Rock in the guts, Doubling him over. Then with a roar of Anger brought the Axe down hard. It buried into the small of the Rocks Back. Rocks Spine was severed by the Blade and he fell to the ground twitching.

Foley Stood up and wiped the blod off his axe. Looking behind him he saw Both Jeff Hardy and Steve Austin were down on the other side of the Arena. Foley couldn’t worry about them now as he looked up to the Emperor.

This was it. The Emperor was too decide if Rock Lived or Died

OOC: Well guys, Have a Vote. Your Vote counts. Is rock going to die or shall Emperor McMahon spare him?

Edited by Hayhay17
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The roar of the crowd was deafening as McMahon raised his hand in the air

And turned his thumb down

Steve Austin looked up through the haze of pain and Saw McMahon’s hand turn down. He screamed in Anger

Austin: Nooooooooooooo

He had to do something; He couldn’t let Rock Die. Desperately he tried to get to his feet, but the Trident that was embedded in his arm prevented him. Desperately he fell to the ground screaming

Austin: Foley don’t do it

Surely Foley wouldn’t listen to McMahon. Would he?

Foley turned towards Austin. His Axe held high in the air. He mouthed the words “I’m Sorry”

Then brought the Axe down hard, It split Rocks head open. Blood and Brains gushing out. Rock died instantly as Foley stood over him. He looked up At McMahon, His eyes the picture of hatred.

Austin finally summed up the strength to get to his feet. Pointing at Foley he yelled his accusations

Austin: You Bastard, You Bastard

Foley dropped the Axe to the ground, his rage replaced by sadness

Foley: What Else was I supposed to do? The Emperor wanted him dead. No one disagrees with Emperor McMahon.

Austin: Not yet.

With those words he collapsed to the ground, the loss of blood finally taking its toll on him. Surgeons and Medics rushed out from the Doors of the Arena. Tending to the wounded

Foley turned his back on the fallen Austin and Walked through the doors and out of the Arena. His Axe still dripping with the Rocks Blood

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