The Fight

It all happened quickly, I didn’t have a chance to think about how I reacted. I just reacted. It was all instinct I guess, plus the training. I’d say that the training sinks in after a while. It must become second nature really, but I don’t remember actively thinking about the training, that’s for sure.

He came at me straight away, there wasn’t any period of sizing each other up. Which now that I think about it makes sense, he wouldn’t need much time to size me up. It would have been pretty apparent to him right from the outset that my size didn’t factor as a consideration for him. I was dwarfed by his bulk. Shoulders that rippled and a neck that looked as sturdy as the trunk of a tree that’d been planted before anyone alive could remember.

All I could do was try to distract and confuse him. There was no way I could engage in the fight directly. At least not at the beginning when he was charging at me and throwing his bulk around. Somehow I managed to for a while, and the longer it was that I remained unscathed the more confident I got. He was starting to tire as well, after his initial rush we almost settled into a pattern. He’d come at me, I’d manage to evade him, we’d stop and look at each other for a moment, and then he’d come at me again.

People had gathered in a circle around us, witnessing rather than watching. They seemed to feed off my dodging and I think a large part of my growing confidence was due to their buzz. It carried on for a while, this attack and evade, his tiring accelerated but I could see that this wasn’t going to lead to an end on it’s own, it was only making things easier for when I’d eventually have to do something.

There wasn’t any way, even with his growing fatigue, that I could engage in the fight physically, he’d kill me in no time if I tried. But fortunately I had weapons. If it was an even fight I wouldn’t think of using them. But as I’ve told you, this wasn’t even close to being an even fight without them. I was just levelling the playing field.

I hit him with the weapons, driving the sharp end into him. It was terrifying the way he just shrugged them off. They hardly altered his course, I was still in defensive mode but I could see that it was speeding up the process of breaking down his strength. He was getting sloppy, staggering a little bit. He was beginning to be less and less danger to me with every charge. Still dangerous though, but less predictable than his precise early attacks. Easier to avoid but harder to predict. I could see that he knew he was starting to lose. It could get ugly if he let go completely, he might get hurt more but could certainly do damage to me in the process. I didn’t want him to go completely wild. I had to take my chance.

I didn’t enjoy it. I’m not proud of it. When the people watching cheered I only felt sadness. I wiped the blood from my sword and hung my head. I did what I had to do, but I would like to avoid doing it again. After all of that training I decided right there that I was walking away from this. It was my one and only bullfight, I wont be doing it again.