Gladiators vs Zombies Read Online Free

fading from his mind as there was a knock on his office door. “Enter.” he said as he picked up the head and placed it in its box under his desk. Hesta, the Greek slave girl, opened the door bearing a small plate of food. “Your midday meal Dominus.” she spoke softly, her head bowed, as she brought it to his table.
    “Ah, yes, thank you. That will be all,” Atticus smiled, watching her with great scrutiny as Hesta set the food on the desk and stood before him with her head bowed. The lanista felt a stirring in his loins as his eyes moved up and down her body. He knew that the small group of slave girls he kept as part of his household would take turns bringing his midday meal, for all of them knew that in the afternoons his appetites tended to be for more than simple nourishment. Lanista Atticus Laeca was a widower, his wife having died giving birth to his daughter. A certain darkness had filled him then, and since that time Atticus had chosen not to take a new wife, instead focusing on the business of his ludus and the slaking of his lust upon the supple flesh of his young slaves.
    He could see the grim acceptance in Hesta’s demeanor, and it cooled his desire. He was a kind man, and handsome enough, though he supposed he did use his slaves roughly when his lust was upon him. A small matter, as the golem’s low muffled moan brought him back to the business at hand. “You may take your leave.,” he said as he made a dismissive gesture, and the visibly relieved girl walked briskly out of the office, gently shutting the door.
    Atticus opened the box and lifted the head, placing it upon the desk, his food untouched. The centurion had theorized that the bites of the golem’s head would transform a living person into the undying cannibal creatures in Cyprian’s tale. The lanista thought back to the height of his father’s business, the days where coin flowed, even if glory and honor did not. If he could bring to the arenas of Rome a spectacle that was as much a marvel as it was a terror, his ludus would rise in status and wealth. These golems, creatures of myth made flesh, could be the answer he had been looking for.
    Lanista Atticus Laeca walked through the tight hallways of the slave pens beneath the ludus. His doctore, the trainer of gladiators, had ordered the house guards to move five of the least promising slaves into a single cell. It was far from the gladiator’s holding pens, originally designed as a disciplinary cell for unruly slaves, so was perfect for what Atticus intended. With the aid of his guards and the doctore the lanista had removed the golem’s gag and allowed it to bite each of the slaves on the shoulder. That had been in the early hours of the morning, and now he walked alone down the hallway towards the cell.
    The guards weren’t particularly brave men, but they were paid well, and had remained at their post. Inside the cell the five slaves where visibly weakened, barely holding onto the spark of life. Atticus had the guards bring a stool, and he sat on the other side of the pen, watching in silence as the men inside perished. They all died roughly at the same time, only moments between each of them, and Atticus took note of this. He sat in silence, watching the bodies, his heart thundering in his chest as he waited, hoping that his expensive purchase of the golem’s head had been worth the money. Cyprian was going to be able to retire comfortably with the sum that Atticus had paid, emptying the savings of the ludus in a single transaction. A small matter, thought Atticus, as the ludus was doomed to fail within the year at any rate. If this gamble did not pay off it would not change the inevitable. Though if it did work, fame and fortune would be his.
    One of the bodies began to twitch, then the rest, and soon the eyes of the dead men began to open. They started to moan, their eyes burning with hatred and hunger. They rose to their feet and began grasping at Atticus and his guard through