Imma Fight a Man, a Man
Year of the Golden Gilled Boar, 1983, Kliloln, Misng 26th
It smelled of freshly discarded bandages. Tons of bandages. The heavy smell conjured a coppery taste in my mouth. I bolted upright to find there was no light where I was, but I could see a sliver of it to the far left.
A thick, sticky feeling stuck to the palms of my hand as I used them to stabilize my position. My head was reeling from the smell. The tip of my nose itched. I wiped it with my arm and immediately became aware that the underside of my arms was coated with it.
The sliver of light to my left flickered and immediately, I was filled with a sense of urgency, like the light would not last. I tried to turn to my left so I can push myself up. I only managed to scream instead.
Crippling pain stemming from the waist down to the half of my left thigh immobilized me. White motes peppered my already dimming vision. I bit down as I swore continuously. I would not be standing up. Not with pain like that.
Turning slowly to my right, I found that there was no pain on that side. As long as I did not involve the muscles of my left thigh in anything, the pain was minimal. I awkwardly tried to stand but pain erupted at once from my left waist. I crawled.
Sloppy noises followed me as I used my arms to crawl out. The floor was warm, firm like taut muscles, covered in the same coppery smelling slime, and uneven. I shivered continuously as goosebumps erupted all over my skin.
Where the hell happened to me?
I crawled through a small opening, the slimy substance coating my hair in patches. It oozed its way down to my cheeks, its warmth sickening. Some began to drip on my forehead and made their way to the sides of my nose, flowing down like unwanted tears. I blew as it reached the sides of lips and accidentally tasted it.
It was blood.
Before I could think, my arms moved on their own, dragging the rest of my body. I heard a voice. A woman’s voice. Crying, sobbing. She sounded like she was in pain, breath short between the sobs. I turned right towards where it was brightest. As I did, I became aware of a figure, crouched to my right, her outline partly illuminated by the weak light.
It was the crying woman. Her body convulsed as she fought to catch her breath. She was hugging something. I squinted as I madly tried to get away from that place. She was bathed in blood. I could not tell where her hair ended and the thick, warm blood began. I let out a yelp when she turned her head towards me. Her eyes were stretched wide.
“Help. Help us.” She implored.
She slowly held out the mass she was hugging to her chest. I watched in horror, realizing what it was as the light caught it. A baby. It was a baby with its limbs missing and a quarter of its skull hollowed out up to its left eye. When it screamed, pain left me.
I scurried as fast as I could, using even my right leg to push me away, the protests of my broken left thigh dampened by the need to get away. The light was becoming brighter now.
In a corridor to my left, I saw a man. He stood before a catatonic woman while behind him, a black mass of smoke, warping in the dim light, stood. The man started to take off his clothes, laughing maniacally. Like a shadow, the black mass of smoke mirrored the rise and fall of the man’s shoulders as he cackled like one who had gotten everything at last.
The sights in each room, each corridor that I passed, progressed in the levels of depravity, brutality, and horror. I wasn’t aware when I started but as I wiped my eyes with the sleeves of my blood-soaked shirt, I realized that I had been crying. I could barely see in front of me as my tears flowed in torrents. As there was only one way forward, I closed my eyes and crawled in fear.
“You there,” I loud, commanding voice boomed, “have you seen a little girl, about this tall? Black hair, crooked teeth-”
I opened my eyes and looked up to find a man in a suit with his back against me. He was stretching his neck from side to side, slowly, as if readying himself for something vigorous.
“I sense you’re new here.” He slowly turned around. “First time?”
His face pulsed in a weird manner. When he knelt and brought it closer, I saw that it moved. The skin on his face kept moving. Something, or some things were burrowing underneath it.
“Would you like me to show you around?”
I screamed as thick patches of his face started to fall off.
~0~
“Jorj. Jorj!”
I reluctantly opened my eyes, squinting from the lights in the room to find Hanni standing on the foot of my bed.
“What?” I asked, sleepily.
“There’s a servant outside asking for you, says you are needed.”
I rubbed my eyes and got out of bed. I could hear pacing on the stone floor outside of the door as I put on my boots. A young woman wearing the same design as when Cheki went to Riverhold turned to face me. She was uneasy.
“What is it?”
“It’s Lord Litoc, Lord. Please come. He is…”
“He is what?”
She looked down. She appeared like she wanted to pace again but couldn’t, so she kept fumbling with her hands. I went in and put on my belt. When I emerged back at the door, I nodded to the guards and followed the young woman. She led us towards the archives then up the stairs. When she turned right at the junction in the corridor, I had a suspicion where she was leading us.
I caught sight of the night sky in one of the open windows in one of the common, open spaces. It was late. After passing two more rooms, I heard objects crashing, metal clanging on walls and floor. Above all the noise, I heard Litoc’s voice, swearing and threatening. I called for our party to stop just outside the door to Juwen’s chamber.
The six soldiers by the door looked inside helplessly. They stood like they needed to do something, could do something, but couldn’t. I signaled to one to be quiet when he looked our way then gestured to the messenger that she was dismissed.
“… and you would undo it all?” Jakeli’s voice rose above Litoc’s.
“I care fer none o’ it, none o’- none o’ this. Nothin’! Ye hear? I will kill ‘im. I- I will! An’, an’ I don’t care if Silaron burns after. Basterd… the basterd will pay.”
He was drunk. More intoxicated than the first night we spent at Bariststal.
“I know this pains you,” came Jakeli’s voice again, “why don’t you sleep for the moment? Let’s discuss it in the morning.”
“Ye would keep me? Me? Just so ye could rule? Why ye-”
There was a sound of metal hitting metal. All the soldiers by the door went rigid. I pushed them aside and went in to find Litoc brandishing Barb against Jakeli who was being defended by Tukru with just daggers. By the slow blinks, and head tilts, Litoc was stupid drunk.
“I did not give you that sword so you can go drunk and threaten people with it.” I signaled for Tukru to retreat with the prince.
“Jorj? Igom is that, is…” he struggled to focus, “’tis ye! My friend! Come, come. Come an’ tell these good fer nothin’s-”
He did not finish his sentence but headed for a table beside a window instead and took a drink.”
“I think that’s enough drinking for tonight Litoc.”
“Stop me!”
He yelled, eyes flaring. He staggered towards me and stopped halfway, an expression of disgust in his face.
“Hide behind yer woman huh? Traitors all o’ ye!”
He brandished the sword again, pointing at us and no one in particular. Hanni stepped beside me.
“I’ll take anyone. Anyone!” He continued. “Just ye try an’ stop me!”
“Whatever it is, it can wait till the morning Litoc. You are in no shape to be making decisions or plans right now.”
“Ha!” He snapped. “There it is. There! It! Is! Ye always thought that didn’t… didn’t ye? That I’m stupid! Let me show ye what stupid can do!” He cried as he launched himself, sword leading, towards me.
He should not have done that.