@gerald.knows: thanks for this

thanks for this amazing contest
I'm a writer and
here's my entry

Do your Worst

I will never forget that day Malchus, when he was brought in to us. Bundled up in chains and shoved, as it were, into old garments that made him walk sluggishly, was dragged to the center of the arena. I closely examined this man Malchus, nothing of him spoke of a bodily built man. But what I encountered that day still haunts me every night.
He was stripped of his garments and shackled to the prisoner's block. He was to be chastised. I was to bring the chastisement. At that time I was more than excited to do this. Being a well built man myself, I considered this most refreshing a sport for me. Little did I know that years later, I would come to despise this sport.
I took up the cane, stretched it a little, and with one swift and unexpected swing seared through the flesh on his back. He stood there, still. I lashed out again, but this time at his neck, hoping for a shriek from the bound-up man. All I got was an almost hushed-up moan. I was greatly disappointed. I launched at him now, angrily, frantically, bruising every and any part of his body I could see. I mustered every strength in me and directed it at this man, severely pounding his skull with an oak-hewn stick I had found nearby; the cane was of no use to me. He moaned now, perhaps more loudly than before, falling to the ground with both hands still clasped tightly to the block.
Yes. I loved the sight now; he was in a pool of his own blood. I jeered now with my fellows; finally, the man had been broken. I turned my back on him, faced the crowd as I lifted the stick high and enjoyed the praise I received.
Turning back now, I beheld the unexpected. I was completely astounded as I watched as this battered man lifted himself from the ground, still quivering, and held on to the block persistently. He cast a glance at me, piercing my eyes with his and nodded, as though voicing out "Do your worst". I was just lost for words; and breath too. I now wondered whether it was him who was really being chastised; for I had never seen such tenacity throughout my twenty-year service in the Roman army.