The tales of coming together to reveal the truth of human and creature nature alike. |
Chapter 4 This had never happened before. Julie lost her balance as she helplessly fell to the ground and slammed her cheek against it. She was tightly bound. Her hands were cold and numb from the ropes. Julie had been spotted by elves and surrounded. The elves were armed with sharp spears, bows, and axes that Julie could not resist but to drop to her knees and surrender. They quickly surrounded her, speaking in Elvish languages as they quickly bounded her with ropes and forced her to stand up. “Oh God...I'm in big trouble,” muttered under her breath as she thought of her curfew. She was going to be chastised harshly if she is seen on the ground of the Slave Factory. “Get up, you worthless bitch,” grunted a muscular elf who spoke with an heavy accent and slapped her across the face. Julie whimpered as she felt her cheeks swell up immediately and sobbed as she obediently struggled to her feet. Her ankle was sprained when the elf pushed her hard on the ground just to scare her. It seemed forever as Julie limped and tried to catch up with her captors. They finally reached a hidden camp site where the elves had built and resided. They passed the two guards standing between the doors of the camp and entered the big gate. Inside of the camp was really big, more like a village then a camp. There were houses, markets, and a huge temple in the the farthest corner of the camp. “Take her over there,” grunted an elf and pointed at the temple. Julie was pushed; a signal to start walking faster. Elvin children stopped their game of catch as they watched the group taking Julie away to the temple. Guilt and humiliation rose from her stomach as she slowly limped through the camp site. Some children were already pointing at them. As they entered the building, a guard watched them with sleepy eyes and yawned. “Chief Gulusham, look what we have. It's a witch,” called an elf with a booming voice. An old elf came through a doorway with shredded clothes hanging on top rail of the door and sat down in his throne. The same elf that bounded her hands, who was named Windlesin forced her to her knees and a soft thud resounded against the hard marble ground She looked slowly toward the chief, shy and afraid. The chief stared at her for a long time, then finally asked in a deep voice, “Are you a witch?” Julie was speechless. No one had questioned her before. Never. “Y-yes, sir,” stuttered Julie as she looked at the ground again. The chief never left his cold beady eyes towards her. “What is your name?” “J-j-ulie, sir,” replied Julie blushing with embarrassment. “You may call me Chief Gulusham,” shot the old elf slightly annoyed. “And tell me why you were trespassing in our territory, aren't you supposed to be back in the Slave Factory?” Julie was silent for a moment. Should she tell them her secret? “I...was lost,” Julie lied and shuddered with guilt. Everyone in the temple was watching her. In disgust. There were murmurs throughout the temple, some pointing at her, and whispering in each other's ear. Gulusham raised his hand for silence. “The witch is lying!” called out an elf. “She was stealing some valuable treasure in the forest!” Julie continued to look at the ground. She could not talk back. She could not defend herself. Most elves began to agree with the elf that claimed she lied. “Yeah! That whore is lying to Chief Gulusham!” cried an elf with multiple nose rings dangling between his nostrils. “The witch does not have the right to lie to the Great Chief!” cried another. Chief Gulusham raised his hand again to silence them. “Tell us the truth...witch. Have you been stealing in our forest?” Julie shook her head and the whole elves erupted into angry protests. “Lying bitch! Burn her in the stake!” “The witch lies! Hang her in the highest tree!” Julie's lips trembled as she looked at Chief Guluham for any signs of mercy. But Chief Guluham was in deep thought. The protests and insults went on and Chief Guluham finally raised his hand again. “There is no evidence that this witch trespass our territory just to steal valuables...but she has trespassed our privacy and must be punished.” Shouts and insults rose again throughout the temple. “Chastise her!” “She deserves to die!” Tears formed in Julie's eyes as she heard Chief Guluham's last words. She will be punished. Chief Guluman raised his hands as people started to quiet down. “She will be tortured at level 27,” the chief exclaimed. The elves gave satisfied shouts. “You always make the right decisions, Chief Guluham,” spoke Windlesin as he knelt before the chief and bowed. He looked at Julie then spat at her face and quickly left . The guards forced her to stand up as the elves viciously gathered around them. They started to insult her and tried to beat her with their fists as she was sentenced to the torture room. “Torture Level 27? Whatever it is it sounds pretty bad,” she heard an elf. “That's pretty close to Level 30, you know?” Julie felt tears well up in her eyes. Cry when you feel sad. A guard opened the door and forced Julie in and locked the angry crowd outside, hearing an elf shout before the crowd was locked out, the bolted door only letting in muffled sounds of the protests of the angry elves. “Now you're going to get it, you bitch! You're going to get what you truly deserve!” ******* Biggie and Jen entered the heart of the Galloping Forest in the early evening. It was silent. Only the sound of crickets, bellows of animals, hooting of owls and the grunting of Hyfillas. They were deep in the forest until Jen whispered to Biggie, “Look, over there! Smoke! That means humans or elves.” Biggie squinted through the thick, wet fog. The Galloping Forest's fog was thicker than the Howl Forest. He saw glimpses of light and a trail of smoke coming from the trees. “Looks like an Elvin camp,” whispered Biggie. But Jen was already going toward the camp. “Hey! Wait up!” As they got closer, there were two elves with axes, their huge muscles flickering in the light guarding the entrance. They spotted them and they blocked them from the entrance. “It's OK, we are humans,” said Biggie plainly. The elves looked at each other. “Oh, we are sorry for the confusion. Please come visit our campsite if you want.” Jen smiled. “No problem! We are exhausted; you guys have an inn, right?” The elf on the right side smirked. “We have everything, come inside before you two freeze to death.” They opened the gate of the entrance as they saw the beauty of the campsite. It was like a palace in the middle of the forest. The children and the elders warmly welcomed them. “Want to play catch with us?” said a short elf, his overgrown hat hiding his eyes. Jen giggled and said, “Sure thing! Hey Biggie, I'll stay with the kids. Biggie rolled his eyes and left her. He watched the peons lead their Hyfillas to a nearby pen. Interested in the big temple, he went in and was surprised he found the chief's domain. The elves in the hallways smiled and nodded towards him and he waved back. The chief was on his throne when he saw Biggie. He stood up and welcomed him. “Hello, my human friend, how do you like our campsite so far?” Biggie chuckled. “It's the best I've ever seen.” “Oh, Khalin! I want you to show this young fellow around the palace.” A thin elf walked into the throne room and bowed to the king. Khalin was at the age of 3,450 but still looked very young. Biggie shook hands with him and they toured through a big kitchen. “This is the ball room, also known as the Barbecue Room. Where we party and eat,” Khalin said proudly. “That is the Explicit Room, Throne Room, upstairs are the bedrooms and all the extra equipment supplies." Biggie looked around in wonder as they walked up the marble stairs and looked at the famous paintings. Animals heads were displayed on top of the walls and big-paneled windows showed the whole outline of the camp below. They finally reached a large rusty metal door and Khalin struggled to open it. It creaked loudly and Biggie heard the sound of a drop of water splattering onto the floor. Inside, a lengthy hallway stretched towards all the way to the end. The metal door separated the marble floor and the wet, stagnant concrete floor. "This...is the Interrogation Room," said Khalin, hesitating for a moment. The Interrogation Room was a dark and chilly hallway. “Over there are the torture rooms,” pointed Khalin to the end of the hall but it was pitch black. Biggie rubbed his neck and asked, “Anyone here ever been interrogated or tortured?” Khalin scratched his bald head. “I think a witch was found trespassing our forest. She was to be tortured at Level 27. Level 30 is the strongest and most don't survive but I'm sure she's alive and well.” “Really,” Biggie said with a hint of interest. "What if she was dead behind one of those cell rooms?” Khalin shrugged. “No, she was just tortured...maybe she is in one of the cell rooms. Why? Do you want to see her?” “Is she dangerous?” asked Biggie nervously. Khalin chuckled at his question. “She is harmless. She was beaten so badly, she can't hurt a fly. Don't worry, the guards tamed her good.” Biggie stopped rubbing his neck and said, “Maybe I'm a bit curious.” “Yes, let's see...I think she was kept in Cell #4900,” agreed Khalin. As they walked in the #300s, Biggie asked a question that felt a little awkward. “So how does torture go in this camp?” Khalin rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I'm not sure but I think they use pain gubbies, or just beat the person down with clubs. But I'm sure they use the Suffocation torture and the other sorts.” “Suffocation torture?” asked Biggie surprised that elves would practice such an horrible torture method. They were in the #1,500s now. “Yes, they tie the person's hands together and force him or her to drop to their knees. Then they dump their heads in cold icy water and hold them submerged for 5 minutes then let lift them up for a second of air. Then then force you down in the cold water again and repeat the steps until it bores you.” Biggie stared at Khalin in horror. “So you meant they almost drowned the girl?” Khalin nodded. “Basically. But don't worry, she took it like a good little girl.” They were in the #3,120s and Biggie had a feeling he wanted to go back. “Do you think she is okay?” Khalin gave Biggie a weird look. “Why do you care? Do you really care about them witches?” Biggie shook his head and then quickly changed the subject. “Nah. Did you know we use to practice pain gubbies for torture in our town?” Khalin smiled and chuckled, “Hmm, pain gubbies. My favorite torture tool.” Pain gubbies were illegal bacterial liquid substances that is shot through the victim's veins with a needle. In a few second, the bacteria still spread throughout the body and it will cause the muscles and the bones to contract and ache and soon his or her body will spasm. You need to move your body to relieve the pain, but they strap you in so the person can't move which will increase the pain. After one dose, it is likely that the victim tells his or her secret or surrenders. They finally reached #4900. It was deadly quiet in the cell. “You sure it's this one?” asked Biggie. Khalin nodded and pointed at a small board hanging on the cellar door. It read: Name: Julie "Haisha" Blackstone Age: 15 Sex: Female Location: Slave Factory Class: Witch Punishment: Torture Level 27 Punishment Description: Pain gubbies, Suffocation, Whipping, Beat-Down Reason: Trespassing Elvin territory Code Number: 20.6.17.400 Description: Black hair, hazel eyes, 5 '4, 97 pounds. The witch is to be considered very dangerous and will attack innocent bystanders. “Beat-Down?” asked Biggie whispering which surprised him. “They beat her with clubs until they broke specific parts of her bones. Sometimes, they play with her by hitting the wrong places so she can feel more pain throughout her body,” answered Khalin. Biggie twitched at the thought of it. Harsh. Khalin stared at him and laughed, “So you want to go in or are you scared?” Biggie stepped away from the cellar door. There was still silence behind it. Was she dead? Sleeping? Or crouched in a corner ready to attack just as the door opens? “I...err...I'll go in,” said Biggie in a very slow manner. Khalin nodded and unlocked the cellar door with a strange card with Elvish language encrypted on it. He slid card at the description board and a low humming sound filled the hallway. Then the door automatically unlocked. Khalin put the card in his pocket and bowed at Biggie with his hand toward the door. “There you go...just call if you need me. And don't be scared. The guards would be here soon,” explained Khalin. Biggie nodded as he heard Khalin walked away, his footsteps getting lighter until there was silence between the hallway. He grabbed the cellar door handle, took a deep breath, and pulled and what he saw made his heart drop into his stomach. Chapter 5 Zeath and Largo had been partners for years. Paladins were like the police, but more spiritual. It was their responsibility to protect the civilians and maintain the society. The last two Orcs seemed to be the only troublemakers in the town because nobody dared to make a stupid move when Zeath and Largo was present. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Zeath said and yawned heavily. “This place is cooped.” Largo turned his head and looked around the town. “You're right, but where do you want to go? We can't travel very far on foot...and there are no damn transportation in this town.” “Let's head north, let's go check out some witches.” Largo raised a eyebrow and asked, “Check out?” Zeath winked and poked Largo in the ribs. “You're kidding,” mumbled Largo realizing what Zeath meant.”Are you that desperate to pay witches to get inside your pants? How the hell do you consider yourself a paladin? Zeath laughed out loud and bystanders watched them silently annoyed by Zeath's high-pitched cackle. “I'm kidding, Largo. Don't you have a sense of humor?” Largo smirked and looked around town again. “You know...I think you might have a idea there, Zeath.” Zeath pretended to be shocked and gasped, “Why Largo! You fiend!.” “We are just going to check up on the Slave Factory. We will need to go there tomorrow for residence check-up anyways," Largo smiled and stretched. Zeath furrowed his brows and fingered the sheath of his sword. “Yeah, let's get out of here. This place is boring.” They walked slowly to the exit of the town, watching the little kids play with their worn out ball. It reminded him of his childhood when he used to play soccer with his friends. When Zeath was young, his parents were forced to join the Paladin Establishment Force (PEF) to battle against the witches. Unfortunately, his parents never came and he eventually took school lesson in a paladin community. As he grew, he wanted to know more about life and God. In his teenage age, he had already learned the passages of the Paladins heroes, which includes many different skills such as the Resurrection technique, the Holy Furnace aura, and the Rising Sun technique. But his years of a paladin had depressed him, especially about his parents. Sometimes he fantasized that he will be the hero who will defeat Zscharchas with his bare hands. Every witch he had seen had made him angry and he wished he hadn't opened his mouth to go to the Slave Factory. Even with his traveling experience, he has known little about the Slave Factory. The Slave Factory was built in memory of the legendary paladin who had slain Zscharchas with a single sword. Zscharchas was the most dangerous creature in Neoxarde history. Its lower body was the form of a centipede and his upper body like a evil demon with sharp sickles for his arms with hardened skin tougher than the strongest steel. It stood upright, 50 feet tall in all and the ground quaked whenever it moved it's many legs. It's eyes glowed red brighter every time it murdered its enemy. Zscharchas was known for slaying so many paladins at once, some say that holy magic never worked on it because it was covered with so many paladin blood. In the middle of the Slave Factory, there was a sculpture of Zscharchas slain and the legendary paladin with his sword on its head. No one knows the actual legend, but many thought the paladin was only a little boy. Now that the war was over, the witches were taken captive and were cast into slavery for the rest of their lives. Zeath thought this was good enough. The only problem was that paladins must slay all newborn male wizards, so no witches can reproduce. Most wizards left their wives without even a letter and ran away far away west, where freedom thrived. Zeath blamed the witches. It was their fault for existing for the first place. Now that Zeath had become a real paladin, he now took the job of justification and capturing homicidal Orcs to evil witches. He was glad that he had become a paladin. He felt protected and the PEF was always watching his back. He winked at a little girl who was staring at him with her thumb in her mouth. He trotted over to Largo and put his hands in his pockets as they passed the exit gate and headed towards the Slave Factory. ******* Jen fumbled for a pen and tried to steady her writing. Something urgent had happened in Lyforgia and she had to leave instantly. She quickly wrote a letter to Biggie, saying she had to leave to Lyforgia for an emergency situation. “Can you please give this letter to Biggie Argon? He is probably in the temple,” said Jen hurriedly to a nearby peon. “Please don't lose it. It's important.” The peon nodded as he took the letter and continued with his business. Jen hopped on her Hyfilla and whispered 'Lyforgia' to its ear. Its ear perked up and whistled then started running down South. Jen passed the entrance and saw the guards nodding and waving at her as she waved back. She focused, trying to see through the thick fog, and suddenly looked back. “I hope you do alright, Biggie,” she whispered. She grabbed the reins tightly and cracked it, forcing the Hyfilla to sprint faster. Her hair rushed past her face. What had really happened in Lyforgia? She disappeared into the thick fog in the dark forest under the pale moonlight. Chapter 6 The witch was in a corner, her knees to her chest and her head buried in her knees. As Biggie turned the cellar door, the noise startled the witch and quickly looked up to see who it was Biggie saw a glimpse of her face for the very first time and time suddenly stopped. She was very pretty. Even though her cheeks were swollen, her hair cut short, and wet from the Suffocation torture and her face bruised and blood trickled down her lips, she had the most brightest eyes he had ever seen. It was like looking at a pair of polished onyxes. The witch recognizing a human quickly got on her knees and bowed her head in respect. Biggie frowned at this. He never has seen someone go on their knees before him so eagerly. The witch slowly looked up at him still on her knees, slightly confused why he is not scolding her or hit her with his hands. She was taught to belong on her knees when she was young and was beaten for being born out a witch's womb. Biggie took a step forward and she flinched as if he had slapped her. Biggie stepped back twice. Suddenly, a realization came over his head: he didn't want to touch a real witch - they might curse you. He just stood at the cellar door staring at her as the witch dropped her head and her face burned red with embarrassment. It was so quiet in the cell, the water drops that were leaking out of the faucets sounded like a repeating beat of a gong. Then Biggie began to become uncomfortable being alone with a witch and he turned away to reach for the door but peeked with the corner of his eyes. She was still on her knees, her head still hanging low as if she was carrying a large stone upon her back. Two Elvin guards were waiting for Biggie as he came out of the cellar door. One of the guard grunted as he pushed past Biggie and shouted at the witch, “Get up, you piece of shit!” and they both started to kick her sides. Biggie could hear her gasps of pain as he heard the foot of the guards kick her sides. Thud...thud...thud... Biggie had a sudden feeling to attack the guards but he held his anger. A guard grabbed the witch's hair and easily carried her unto her feet and the witch began to sob. Biggie watched the guards at work as they bound her with ropes and push her to the ground. They were having too much fun laughing and bullying her. The witch helplessly fell to the ground and her jaw hit the floor as tears flow down her cheeks. “Aww, look at the baby crying,” laughed a guard then he spat on her face. They forced her on her feet, and took her away down the hall. As the guards passed Biggie, he gave them a evil eye and the guards suspiciously eyed him back. “Hurry up, you slut,” urged a guard as he slapped her in the face whose cheeks was already swelling to the size of a fist. “You're lucky this is your last stay at the village. We would have beaten you to a pulp if you had stayed longer.” The witch made a blowing noise: a sigh of relief. But her cheeks were so swollen, her lips could not close. They entered the throne room where Chief Guluham and the audience waited for them. The elves around the room looked at the witch in disgust. Some spat at her and some scolded her and most pointed and made fun of the witch's wounds. Biggie had his fists clenched. This was enough humiliation for her. He silently followed them and the rest of the elves stood behind his back to watch the conclusion of the witch's punishment. One of the guards forced her on her knees before Chief Guluham. “Now that you have learned your lesson, witch. I advice you to go back to the Slave Factory. If we find you anywhere in the forest again, we will kill you,” Chief Guluham said in a loud, threatening voice. The witch flinched but nodded in agreement and bowed before Chief Guluham. Biggie wondered how she could be so willing to her captors. “Now get out of here!” cried Chief Guluham with an irate voice. The guards behind her cut the ropes on her wrists and then the witch slowly stood walked away with her head down as the crowd followed after her with more threats and insults. She slowly limped away toward the temple door with her face slightly scarlet as they watched her leave. Biggie noticed that she couldn't even walk properly. Her ankles were probably crushed and her right shoulder blades were slightly lopsided. Biggie's first impression was to follow her. “She can lead me to the Slave Factory,” thought Biggie as he followed behind her. When he got outside, he frantically searched for Jen but couldn't find her. He kept watching the witch exit the entrance gate and disappearing in the morning fog. Biggie ran to the pen and grabbed his Hyfilla which had a note sticking out its saddle pouch. He would read it later. It was not important now. He mounted on the Hyfilla and raced after the witch. “Hey you, witch!” Biggie called after Julie as his Hyfilla sped through the forest, grunting for breath. The witch looked back, shocked and stopped in her tracks. She had wiped the blood from her face with her sleeves as it left streaks of dried tears and blood. Biggie cried out again, “You! Stay where you are!” The witch seemed scared to death, especially with the Hyfilla running towards her at full speed. She dropped to her knees and covered her eyes as she trembled with fear. Biggie pulled the reins of the Hyfilla just in time and stopped an inch away from the knelt witch. “Hey, there's no need to get on your knees,” said Biggie vaguely. The witch looked at him dazed as she slowly stood up. Biggie didn't know if it was the fog or the light but the witch seemed very pretty up close. “I'm Biggie, what's your name?” he asked. The witch stared at the ground, her left cheek twice the size of her right. Then she stared at him in the eyes. Somehow he had forgotten all about the rumors of curses and spells that witches cast upon people. Her eyes were so deep... She didn't speak so Biggie had to interrupt the silence again as the Hyfilla whined at the cold morning air. “You're Julie right? It’s nice to meet you. I want you to lead me to the Slave Factory. You think you can do that?” asked Biggie. Time suddenly stopped again and there was a long silence. Then Julie's lips trembled and she solemnly nodded. She turned and led the way. Biggie smiled with relief but his face immediately scrunched up in shock as Julie dropped to the ground and did not move. |