Remember to submit to goldie031's SYOT Make me a Match so we can start soon!
Eleanor screamed and ran at me, holding her club high. I didn't even have to steer Bob. She didn't want to get whacked with a club. When Eleanor got close enough, Bob danced out of the way. I leaned sideways and swung my sword at her stick. She hit back so hard I almost dropped the sword. Her club splintered, but didn't break. There was still more than enough for her to do damage.
Eleanor was smaller than a bull. She darted back in close to Bob and swung her club at the horse's neck. Bob shied back and whinnied. She reared suddenly and I leaned forward, grabbing her mane as I almost toppled off. Bob bucked and kicked out her hind legs, unfortunately missing Eleanor, who pinwheeled her arms as she dove back out of the way. Bob backed away as Eleanor circled around us.
"It's okay," I soothed Bob. She was panicked, and it took all my skill to hold her in place. I'd woken the bull, that was sure. Eleanor was vibrating with anger as she came at us again. Bob moved to the side as I swung, and my sword only lopped off the tip of Eleanor's club. She was still armed, though now I could get close enough for the worst part.
People loved the spectacle and danger of the human in the ring with the bull. What they didn't care for was what happened to the bull. The fighter wasn't close enough to slay the animal cleanly, and the bull was so aggressive by then that it kept coming long after it should have. To win the fight, I'd have to hack the life out of Eleanor. Instead of a clean thrust, death would come by dozens on dozens of ragged, shallow jabs. It was a death unfit for an animal, much less a human.
I scored my first blow on the next pass. As Bob shied away from Eleanor, I stuck my sword sideways into her front. She moved back before I could get deep enough to kill her, but I saw the divot my strike gouged out of her flesh. She was torn open, like a beast. On the next pass, she was quicker than I was. Her club hit my hand before I struck, and I felt the bones break as the shock reverberated through the metal. But she was getting tired. She had to avoid Bob's hooves as well as my sword, and she didn't have the energy of a horse. Over a long enough distance, a person could outrun a horse, but this was a short burst of energy, and Bob wasn't tired from her time in the Arena.
I hit Eleanor again on the next pass. I hated the sound the tip of the sword made as it shoved into her chest. If she hadn't been so strong, I would have been able to get close enough to stab her through and end it well. But if she was able to grab my leg, she could pull me off the horse, and then it would be her game. I had to push down my revulsion and cut the flesh from her one spoonful at a time.
Eleanor's face was red and she was crying even as she screamed with rage. She was a terrible thing to behold. If anything went wrong, if I lost my balance for an instant, I might as well be caught underneath a bull. As I cut at her, I knew I would never watch a bullfight again. The pain and rage and gushing blood turned my stomach.
There was so much blood. Eleanor couldn't have much left in her. Yet she kept coming. She kept coming and swinging and trying to knock me off. Foam flecked Bob's mouth and I was afraid I would exhaust her. She swung to one side and knocked into Eleanor, almost knocking her over. As she regained her balance, I struck again. It was the dirtiest, most brutal fight I could have imagined. I wanted her to die just so I wouldn't be sticking her anymore.
Eleanor slipped on her own blood and fell. I could barely recognize her anymore, and I knew she was close to death. I shouldn't have, but I left caution behind and dismounted. There was no faking at this point. She couldn't stand. She didn't have the strength to pull me down.
I wanted it done. I wanted it done as quickly as possible. Any other time, I would have tried to kill her in a way that would preserve her remains as much as possible. I just wanted it done, and I wasn't even sure I could find most of her vital spots under all the blood and gore. I raised my sword over my head with both hands, the exact way Emma told me not to do, since it left your stomach exposed. It didn't matter now. I ended it the quickest way I could: by striking down at her neck with all my strength.
The cannon was a formality. Her head wasn't attached anymore. I hoped Rose enjoyed her new friend. The friend she just watched rip a girl to pieces with a thousand tiny cuts.
I knew for a long time I wanted Calvary to win by bullfighting. I thought she'd be on foot. I added the ponies because they're sometimes at birthday parties, but they turned out to be a cool addition and one I think I'll use in a normal Games sometime. After that it didn't make sense for her to dismount, so I looked up horseback bullriding to see if it was a thing and it was. They're called rejoneadors.