seeing red

steven renkas | Spring 2024

The roaring cheers and screams from an unseen crowd jostles me from my sleep-like trance. I am immersed in near total darkness. I feel a sensation that resembles warm, metallic hands touching my legs, right above my heels. Through the dim light, I can make out the silhouettes of large metal shackles holding my legs in place. I struggle to try to free myself, but the hold is not loosened, and the shackles cut into my feet. I scream in pain, but my agony is drowned out by the cacophony outside. The small amount of light in my enclosure comes from a small slit in front of me, so I push my face towards it to get a glimpse of my surroundings. I am in a large arena, where the source of the cacophony lines the walls. They all stare towards me, as if they are a judge debating their verdict. In the center of the arena stands a strangely dressed man. He stares at me with piercing, emotionless eyes. He brandishes a square of bright red cloth. The cloth catches my full attention. Something about it angers me. Is this a taunt? A threat? Is my anger and confusion simply just a game to him? I start to seeth in anger, as my blood begins to boil and rush to my head.

All I see is red.

Suddenly, the noise from the crowd is overshadowed by a loud, automated noise inside my enclosure. With a series of metallic clangs, I feel the shackles loosen, and the front of the cage falls to the ground with a heavy thump. I stare at the fallen cage door for a moment, and then remake eye contact with the man. He still has an emotionless stare, like that of a man who does not flinch to the thought of atrocities. We stand for a moment in this unmoving dance, my anger boiling up like a kettle, ready to announce that the water is ready to pour. I make my move, charging at him with flails of my body. As I am about to collide with the man, he swings the cloth into my face. I feel no collision, I hear the crowd cheer, and I see nothing but the cloth.

All I see is red.

When the embrace of the cloth on my face comes to a close, I am left staring at nothing. I turn to see that the man completely dodged my attack. I am filled with anger at his attitude towards this sick and twisted game we play. I make a second charge. As he is about to swing the cloth at my face, I move my head to the side to avoid it. Is this the end? Have I won? In my stupor, I fail to notice that the cloth is pinched on a singular point. Before I can react, I feel a sharp, needle-like blade make its way into my throat, sewing the cloth into my body. I scream in pain, but it has become a mere gurgle. I fall to the ground as the crowd screams in excitement. I shuffle and kick on the ground, trying to gasp for air, but my lungs start to fill with blood. I look up towards the man who delivered the blow, only to see him walking away, as if he regarded my life with such little dignity to not even look at the sin he has committed. My head begins to feel heavy. As my vision begins to fade, I rest my head down on the soil beneath me, only to see that it has become a deep crimson mud.

All I see is red.