Written purely for entertainment purposes, I do not own any of the Spartacus characters, Steven S. DeKnight and Starz own them, if I owned them, there would be a lot more cocks shown and lots of gay sex scenes :)

hen Spartacus first arrived at Batiatus' ludus, he wanted nothing more than to fucking kill the men who had sent him there.

When he met Varro he instantly knew he had found-not a friend, but someone he could trust.

They grew to be friends despite the fact that Spartacus wanted no friends, he hadn't needed any friends, he only needed to kill all the men who had fucked him; Glaber, Batiatus, everyone.

When Spartacus was told to kill Varro, his heart broke. He had finally let his heart feel for someone since Sura's passing. Varro's blood stained Spartacus' hands like poison. poison that would kill him if given the chance to sink into his skin.

Spartacus' created an alliance with Crixus. They attacked Batiatus and his men. They killed them all. They were free men.

Spartacus lead the rebels. He meant to help Crixus find Naevia, he would not have Crixus feel the pain of losing the one he loved, the way he had. He would not allow Crixus to feel that pain, he would do anything within his power to find the woman.

Spartacus and his men freed many slaves, many of them joined him. Those who did not Spartacus let go, he would not imprison anyone, they were free. Spartacus would not deny them their freedom.

One particular slave caused quite a stir. He made attempt on Spartacus' life. The little man, formerly know as Tiberius, was quite fierce. Spartacus knew Nasir would be a marvelous addition to their rebel group. Spartacus would train the man, teach him to properly fight. Agron took great interest in Nasir; Spartacus was glad for it. Spartacus could focus on fighting Roman cunts and searching for Naevia while Agron trained the Syrian.

Agron set free a group of his kin, Spartacus was grateful for the new men, they needed all the recruits they could get. The German's were crude and loud-but they were strong.

Argon informed them that Naevia was no longer living. Crixus refused to belive it. Spartacus understood Crixus denial; he understood the pain. He felt for Crixus, he had lost Sura and Varro; he wished not that pain on anyone, even someone such as Crixus.

Nasir revealed truth about Naevia; she was not gone from life, she had been sent to the mines. Agron had spoke false words. Spartacus wanted nothing more than to hack Agron's head from his shoulders for causing undue pain, but he would not lose Agron from his ranks, he was a strong man.

Spartacus lead Crixus and few of his men to the mines where Naevia had been sent. They reclaimed Naevia at the loss of Crixus, he was captured.

When returning to their camp, Nasir was stabbed. The wound was great, if it was not closed the boy would die. Their only choice was to close the wound with fire.

Agron and his kin arrived, slaughtered many Roman cunts. When Agron saw how grievously injured Nasir was, he felt the same pain he had caused Crixus. Agron knew his mistake. Spartacus did not wish Agron knew that pain, but he was glad that Agron had realized mistake, an would not do it again.

At night Mira would attempt affection with Spartacus. His cock wanted nothing more than to fuck the woman, his heart and mind told him no. He would not allow himself to love again, he would not feel the hurt again.

At night after Spartacus would decline Mira's advances he was left with thoughts of Sura, thoughts of Varro. The feel of Sura's flesh beneath him, in his hands was still fresh in his mind, though he had not felt it for so long. The feel of Varro's cock, throbbing in his hand was still fresh in his mind, thought it had been long since he had been force to slay the man.

The last time Spartacus had been with Sura was indescribable, his last time with Varro was better.

Spartacus had not been keen to lay with the man, but his heart told him he could love the man, told him that Sura would understand. He allowed himself pleasure with Varro. He allowed Varro into his heart. Only to have it broken once more. Varro's blood will forever stain his hands. The poison continues to seep into Spartacus.

The poison from killing Varro, the poison from causing his wifes death. Much poison touched Spartacus. Much heartache plagued him.

As the poison took over Spartacus he became more and more blood thirsty. He had killed Batiatus, the man who had found and allowed Sura to die, the man who had allowed the little Roman shit to force Spartacus into killing Varro. Spartacus thirsts for blood, much blood. He thirsts for Glaber's blood, for every last drop of Roman blood. He wants them all dead. Everyone who ever crossed his path and fucked him.

When Gannicus appeared with Ilithyia, Spartacus wished nothing more than to kill the cunt, she and her husband had fucked him. When Spartacus saw that the bitch was with child, his heart clenched at the sight. He thought of Varro's child, of the children Sura never had chance to bear him.

Ilithyia told him the child was his, he did not believe her. The child could not be his, it could not. The cunt had spoken false words, she was a snake, she would do anything to keep her life. Mira had nearly killed Ilithyia and though Spartacus wished to see the Roman cunt dead, he did not wish for Mira to kill her. Spartacus blocked Ilithyia's vision and lead the woman into the woods. His sword touched her throat, he wanted to kill her, but thought better of it, he released her.

He knew that killing Ilithyia would not bring Sura or Varro back. He knew that she would meet her end soon enough, he needed to focus on her shit of a husband, Glaber. He was the one who needed to die, not Ilithyia. She was a snake, and fucking cunt, but she need not die, not by Spartacus' hands.

Spartacus realized that the poison from Sura's death, and the poison from Varro's blood on his hands was not what caused his blood lust. His blood lust was the result of thinking to much. Thinking on all of the wrong doings caused to him.

The poison from their deaths was killing Spartacus, at the same time it was keeping him alive. He thrived on that poison, it weakened him and made him strong. It nourished him, it harmed him.

Spartacus needed that poison without it, he would have been dead long ago.