Chapter 54 Just Another Corpse in the Dirt

Rakrak collapsed, twitching, his blood pooling beneath him. His last breath was a weak bubbling gasp—then silence. The once-feared goblin master lay broken, his body a ruined testament to Cat Boss’s merciless anger. The once-mighty goblin master was no more. Just another corpse in the dirt.

The battle raged on even when Rakrak was dead, but I, the miserable goblin slave, didn’t care anymore. My world had shrunk to the bloody mess in my lap. Lyn’s lifeless head, her once bright eyes now dull and empty. The chaos and violence around me were distant echoes, and all I could feel was the weight of my failure. I had lost her. I had lost everything.

I knelt in the blood-soaked dirt, cradling Lyn’s severed head in my trembling hands. Her face, once so full of life, was now frozen in a mask of horror - eyes wide, mouth agape as if her final scream still echoed in the air. She stared back at me, accusing and accusing as if asking why I had failed her. But I couldn’t hear it anymore. I couldn’t hear anything but my broken voice, whispering "I’m sorry" over and over like a broken record as if the words could somehow undo the horror, bring her back, and make it all go away. But nothing changed. Nothing ever would.

The racket of screams and grunts continued around me, blending into a nightmarish symphony of agony. The cat people, led by their fierce leader, Cat Boss, had come for revenge, and the breeding farm I helped to build was their target. They were tearing through the evil goblins and my fellow slaves alike, their claws flashing, their swords slicing through the air. But all I saw, all I could focus on, was Lyn. My beloved Lyn. Her blood stained my hands, mixing with my tears, streaming down my face in a flood that blurred my vision, though it didn’t matter. My heart had already shattered beyond repair.

Then, a shadow fell over me. I looked up, empty-eyed, and saw him. Cat Boss. His face, normally so warm and friendly as he used to look at me, was twisted in a terrifying snarl of anger and grief. His fur bristling with fury, his eyes burning with righteous anger. His daughter, his precious child, had been among the dead, and his rage was a force of nature. But all I could do was kneel there, broken, numb, whispering those useless words - "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry" - as if they could mean anything now.

I met his gaze with empty eyes, my mind a shattered kaleidoscope of pain and guilt. My lips moved soundlessly, repeating the same meaningless words over and over, like a broken record stuck in a loop.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I kept whispering, but the words fell on deaf ears, lost in the chaos of the battle raging around us.

 Without a word, Cat Boss raised his paw and slammed it into my chest, sending me sprawling to the ground. Lyn’s head rolled from my grasp, bouncing grotesquely beside me. A low whimper escaped my lips, but I didn’t fight back. I didn’t care. I deserved this. I deserved every blow, every wound. I deserved to suffer for my failure, for my weakness, for letting Lyn die while I did nothing.

Cat Boss stepped forward, his soft, padded paw pressing down on my chest, pinning me to the ground like the worthless worm I was. His needle-like sword gleamed in the pale light, poised at my throat.

 I closed my eyes, waiting for the end. I wanted it. I wanted him to kill me, to put an end to this endless torment. My pathetic life wasn’t worth living anymore. Not without her.

I whimpered and grunted pathetically, my body wracked with sobs of despair. I cursed myself for my weakness, for my failure to protect those I loved. I wished with all my heart that I could trade places with Lyn, to bear her suffering in her stead. But it was too late for wishes and regrets. All I could do was lay in the dirt, repeating the same words.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But instead of the cold kiss of steel, all I felt was the warmth of my tears, mingling with the blood on my skin. I opened my eyes and saw his face, contorted not just in rage, but in something else - pity. Disgust. He saw me for what I was: a pathetic creature, unworthy of even the mercy of death. His tears shimmered in his eyes, and for a moment, I saw the depth of his pain, his loss. He had lost his precious too.

“You’re not worth it,” he spat, his voice thick with disdain.

“You’re not even worth killing.”

He stepped back, lifting his paw off my chest. I gasped for breath, feeling the weight lift but not the burden in my heart. His words sliced deeper than any sword ever could.

“Live, you miserable creature. Suffer. That will be your punishment. Death would be a mercy you don’t deserve. You are not worth even being cut down. Live, you miserable creature. Let this land be your prison, your punishment. Leaving you alive in your miserable life will be a punishment worth hundreds of deaths. I don't want to see you ever again."

He kicked dirt onto me - an insult so deep in the cat people’s culture it was worse than a blade. It meant I was less than dirt, less than the shit they buried in their litter boxes. I was nothing. And as he walked away, leaving me to rot in my misery, I knew he was right.

I lay there, my body trembling, my soul shattered, staring at the ground, tears mixing with the dirt as the sounds of battle faded into the distance. I watched as Cat Boss carried away Lyn’s lifeless remains. I could still hear her laughter in my mind, still remember the way her eyes lit up when she smiled and the warmth of her embrace. But that was gone now. I had failed her, failed us both.

And now, all that was left for me was this - this endless, agonizing existence. There was no recovery from this.

For hours, I just lay there, wallowing in my self-pity, my tiny goblin fingers digging into the dirt, my mind a swirling mess of grief and regret. I felt hollow, like a carcass left to rot in the sun. My body refused to move, as if the weight of my failure had fused me to the ground itself.

But finally, with a deep, shaky breath, I pushed off the blood-soaked ground and forced myself to look.

The breeding farm was unrecognizable.

It was a grotesque, nightmarish ruin—shattered wooden sheds, cages splintered open, and thick pools of dark goblin blood soaking into the ground. The stench of death clung to the air, suffocating, inescapable.

 Mutilated goblin bodies lay scattered, some barely recognizable, others twisted into shapes no living thing should ever be. Their lifeless eyes stared at nothing, mouths frozen in silent screams, their flesh carved and torn apart by the merciless wrath of the cat people.

The once-roaring bonfires of the camp had died down, their embers flickering weakly in the cold air. Pieces of crude goblin armor lay abandoned, shields cracked, weapons snapped in half. The remains of Rakrak’s so-called "elite warriors" were barely distinguishable from the rest of the carnage—whatever false sense of strength they had was erased by the claws and blades of the vengeful feline warriors. But none of it mattered. None of it reached me.

Because my precious ones—my hatchlings—lay among them.

My limbs felt like they belonged to someone else as I forced myself forward, dragging my shaking body across the bloodied ground. Tears and snot poured freely from my face, mixing with the filth clinging to my skin. A wretched, choked sob ripped from my throat as I reached them—my little ones, my kin, broken and lifeless in the dirt. Their tiny forms, once so full of warmth and fragile hope, were now cold… mangled. Their soft bellies slashed open, their limbs twisted, their bright eyes dull and unseeing. I wated to curse Rakrak for killing them, but what was the point. They are all dead.

I gathered them into my arms, my body wracked with silent screams. My nails dug into my own flesh as I cradled them close, rocking back and forth like a mad thing, my mind unable to accept this horror. My babies… my babies…! This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. But their stillness, their silence—it was all too real.

As I knelt in the wreckage of my shattered world. My tiny fingers clawed at the dirt, nails breaking as I dug, my tears mixing with the blood-soaked soil. My little ones—my precious hatchlings—lay in my trembling arms, their fragile bodies cold, broken beyond recognition.

I rocked back and forth, clutching them to my chest, my throat aching from the silent wails that refused to escape. My mind screamed, my heart begged for this to be some horrible nightmare, but the cruel reality was carved into the very ground beneath me, into the scattered remains of what should have been a future.

With shaking hands, I laid them down in the shallow grave I had dug. My whole body felt hollow as I pressed the dirt over them, sealing away their tiny, lifeless forms forever. I kissed my fingers and touched the grave, a pathetic attempt at giving them some kind of farewell.

 "Sleep now, my little ones," I whispered, my voice breaking. 

"I-I hope... wherever you go... it's warm."