America, Rome, What’s The Difference?


Prologue


The year is 2035 and America has slipped into totalitarianism and is now more like Rome than it ever has been.  Like Rome, America has an unquenchable blood-lust, however lacking gladiators and the sport of making homeless people fight to the death losing it’s originality it has been forced to turn to the one organization that would be a suitable substitute, schools.  Immediately of course the government set a law that ordered all schools to participate or face mass execution.  So the choice was, fight and die, or refuse to and die.  The rules of the “game” were these:
1. The school is to fight as one team you are required to study WestPoint material as well.
2. Each organization and club in the educational facility is it’s own platoon or squad depending on numbers.
3. The battles are to be fought in hand-to-hand combat, no projectiles or anything that fires them.  Armor and weapons will be supplied in sufficient numbers and in school colors.
4. If you are a member of a club or organization the insignia or initials of it will be painted/engraved on the collar of your breastplate, band members are an exception; instead of the words “Band” on your collar the instrument that you play will be placed there instead.  The school mascot however will be embossed on the center of your helmet and on your breastplate.  
5. Teachers and other staff will participate as well, as generals and officers.  If perchance they are KIA then a student will become a general/officer and continue until they too become passed on.
6. There will be armed guard around the perimeter so don’t try anything funny.
7. The battles will be fought like football game rankings, moving on the playoffs, district and state, providing that the school still has the numbers to continue on.
Meanwhile deep in Texas, in a small town called Giddings there was a high school freshman sitting in stunned silence holding the new proclamation from the government.  Others around him were in the same state, this time they had really gone overboard.  Sure watching the homeless kill each other was quite fun to see but to actually experience it would be a nightmare and by the looks of this they would be experiencing it.  Slowly Michael Koventing set down the paper and stared over at his friend Nathan Williams who was just as shocked as he was, so were the people around them. “My God,” whispered Michael, “It’s really happening isn’t it?”

Chapter 1

As promised armor and weapons came in and was given out to the staff and students, if you were in a club you would get your armor at least two weeks later because it had to get engraved/painted.  
Despite all this, thought Michael, At least we get to choose our own weapons. Looking at the stack he pondered over the various choices, mace, short sword, long sword, rapier, spear, one of those shaft thingies with the blade on the end, javelin, battle-axe, hammer, club, and scimitar.  After a while he chose the shaft thingy with the blade on the end, (forgive me for my ignorance as I do not know what they are called) hefting it he twirled it around getting used to it’s feel.  Nathan came over carrying a battle-axe, “Fascinating,” he said, “Simply fascinating, to think, we shall actually be killing people, feels like I got butterflies in my stomach.” He looked at Michael, “Dude I’m scared the government has gone too far this time, am I the only one?” “Trust me, your not alone.” Answered Michael.  
He gazed around him and observed the other students coming slowly, as if in shock, to choose their instrument of death.  He saw fear in many eyes, except for some of the gothic dudes and gang members, he saw a maniacal gleam.  He looked back down at his weapon, “Well, I guess I better check this out, you coming?” Nathan looked around, “Yeah sure, why not.” Together they walked to the card table on the far side of the room where it was occupied by a government official, in front of him was a long line of students and staff wielding their weapons.  As the official checked the weapons out he put a number on the hilt or the shaft and directed them to a room where they were to store them until the proper time.  The air around them was gloomy, serious and miserable, if there was any laughter it was quickly stifled, and if you looked anywhere all you saw were faces as if made of stone.  Yes, thought Michael, the government has gone way too far.
Over a small period of time hardly anyone spoke at all, classes were more quiet than usual, many teachers who began teaching ended up sitting in their desk staring at nothing, no one really wanted to do anything.  Two weeks had passed and those who had armor with engravings on them finally got them back.  Michael went to check his armor out and get it registered, when he got it he was awe struck, it looked sweet.  The helm looked like a Viking helm with horns coming out the side and a nose-guard, the collar of his breast-plate had a tenor saxophone engraved on the collar, and a lion’s head for Leo Club, being the only clubs and organizations that he was in those were the only signs he would get despite the buffalo on his breastplate.
His shield was in the shape of a buffalo head and his leggings had spikes on the knees, his whole armor was black except the gold stripes running vertically.  Once again he was directed to a room to store his possessions until the proper time, afterwards he went to his classroom.  There was a small change in the schedule, instead of 7 periods, there were now 8.  The last period was the WestPoint material mentioned earlier where they learned tactics and strategies used by the famous military leaders in history.  Michael took extensive notes, because if he was going to fight, he was going to fight to win and to live and should he ever become in charge, he was going to lead his men right and not into the mouth of death.
Their first battle would be against Smithville a nearby town, until then the members of Giddings Middle and High School would train extensively for the coming day.  Of course football fields would not be a sufficient size so the government gave grants to build Coliseum size buildings for the occasion, soon several dotted the counties.  Michael always practiced after school with his weapon, get the feel of it, know how to use it, defense moves, attacking moves, he got it all down.  Nathan joined him as well and soon managed to wield his battle-axe professionally and efficiently.  They were not the only ones of course, more than half the student body was out there with them on the football field.  The clubs practiced with each other to get used to teamwork so they wouldn’t be all too confused when they went into battle.
Several weeks had now passed and now teachers could twirl spears as well as they twirled pointer sticks, and students were just as fast as drawing their swords as they were when pulling out their homework, they were ready.  
The school busses were filled with tension as they drove toward the battle arena; in one of those rare moments they were deathly quiet, which did not help many people with their stress.  Michael was feeling just as bad, his stomach was all in knots and he was sweating like mad, he felt like an inmate on death row.  Nathan had his head in his hands and was mumbling Hail Mary’s like his life depended on it, and it more than likely did.  When they unboarded the busses they were handed their armor and weapons and directed toward some bathrooms where they could change.  Michael nervously took his armor and made his way to the rooms, on his way he passed his Algebra teacher, Mrs. Crasheart he gave her a weak smile and all she did was stare at him blankly with glazed over eyes.  She feebly shifted her broadsword in her hand and shuffled to the ladies room, Michael watched her for a few seconds then went inside the Men’s restroom.  Once inside he found his classmates struggling to get their armor on, sliding by several people and mumbling excuse me’s he made his way over to the other side of the room and attempted to get suited up.  Later in full armor he joined the growing throng of fellow classmates at a large wooden gate, desperately he searched for Nathan and found him on the edge of the crowd.  Pushing his way over to him he found him hunched over with tears streaking down his face. “Nathan dude, what’s wrong?” Michael asked concerned.  “I don’t want to die Mike, I don’t want to die…” “It’s alright man, no one does, you think you’re the only one who thinks that?  Look around you, if you searched you would find people in the same state as you are.” “I know man,” replied Nathan, “It’s just a hell of a way to go, a hell of a way to go.” Michael watched him sob quietly for a minute then helped him up, “Alright man, just promise me one thing, stay close to me ok?” Nathan nodded silently and Michael gave him a grim smile and patted his shoulder.  “Yeah lets go kick some Smithville butt.” Muttered Nathan as the wooden gates swung slowly open to welcome those who would never turn back.