Chapter 55 My Only Path to Safety

I sat there, staring at the grave, my body limp, my spirit crumbling like dry leaves in the wind. But it wasn’t over. Some fragile, desperate part of me still clung to hope, still needed to believe there was something left. I forced myself up, legs trembling, and staggered toward the hatchery.

But the moment I stepped inside, my last sliver of hope was ripped from me.

The nests were torn apart. The straw soaked with blood. The air, once filled with soft chirps of unborn life, was now thick with the stench of death. The eggs—our future—were shattered, their golden yolks and unformed bodies spilling like wasted dreams onto the ground.

I dropped to my knees, a fresh wail tearing its way from my throat. My hands hovered over the broken shells, over the unborn little ones who would never see the sky, never feel the warmth of the sun.

"They... they were just eggs," I croaked, my voice hoarse.

"They didn't even get a chance..."

I curled over, clutching my arms, my body racked with violent sobs. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. My heart was empty, my mind shattered. But just as I thought I could collapse into the crushing embrace of despair, the cruel, indifferent world reminded me once more of its cruelty.

A chorus of guttural growls echoed through the air, followed by deep, howling roars that sent a shock of icy terror through my body. My skin prickled with cold dread as I heard the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against bone and the tearing of flesh. Monsters had come to feast on the remains of my kin—of my family—and I could feel the weight of their hunger pressing in on me from every direction.

 I wanted to do something but no… I froze. I was a coward. I always had been. I could barely lift a stick let alone a weapon, I couldn’t even defend myself against the pain, the grief, the crushing weight of reality. 

Then, instinct took over. It wasn’t bravery. It wasn’t courage. It was sheer survival. I turned and ran, my mind a blur, my body barely able to keep up with the frantic pace I set. My legs burned, my chest screamed for air, but all I could think about was escaping. Every instinct in my body urged me to run—to flee as far from the breeding farm as possible. My own miserable life was all I had left to cling to, no matter how worthless it felt.

The only place I could think of was the cat people’s village. It wasn’t much, but it was the only shred of safety I could cling to. If I had to beg, to grovel, to kiss their feet and lick the mud off their boots—I didn’t care. Anything to survive. I would take any menial, disgusting task they’d give me, as long as it meant living in safety.

I passed the horrors of the breeding farm in a blur of panic. The sight of the monsters—hulking, grotesque things with glowing eyes—devouring the bodies of goblin slaves, tearing them apart like they were nothing more than meat—pushed me faster. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t look back. I couldn’t let myself slow down.

The screeches of the beasts echoed behind me, their hunger growing louder. My heart pounded, my body screamed in pain, and still, I ran.

Finally, after several days of running, crawling, and scrambling through the heartless, unforgiving wilderness, I reached the village. My body was broken, my spirit shattered, but there, ahead, was a glimmer of safety. My brain, frantic and disoriented, found a small, pathetic shred of hope.

  "I made it. I'm here. The cat people will help me."

The village gates loomed ahead like a beacon of fleeting relief, and I allowed myself to entertain the thought that maybe—just maybe—I could be saved.

But as I drew closer, my heart sank.

The first thing I saw was the grotesque sight that stole the breath from my lungs. There, hanging from the walls of the village, were the bodies of my fellow goblins. Their lifeless forms swung gently in the wind, crude ropes tied around their necks, their bodies twisted in unnatural positions. They were all there—my kin, my brothers. But now, they were nothing more than grotesque trophies, displayed for the world to see.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my chest tightening in disbelief, suffocating under the weight of it all. I stumbled forward, each step feeling heavier than the last, as though the ground itself sought to swallow me whole. My friends. My family. They were gone. Just like that.

The tears came without warning. Hot, painful streams that burned down my grimy face. I dropped to my knees, hands shaking as I reached out toward the bodies of the goblins I had once called friends. My breath hitched, a sob ripping through me as I choked on the impossible truth. My throat burned, desperate to scream, to release the wave of grief, but all that came out was a sound so raw, so gut-wrenching, it was as if my soul was being torn from me.

 A sorrowful, agonized cry tore from my throat, reverberating in the silence around me. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces as I looked at their mutilated bodies, knowing there would be no more shared laughter, no more warmth, no more companionship.

And yet, just as quickly as the grief had overwhelmed me, it was ripped away.

A sharp, cruel sound split the air—swish. Then another. And another. I gasped, my body jerking instinctively as arrows sliced through the air, the whistling of their sharp tips cutting the space around me. One of them found its mark, a sudden sharp pain blooming in my arm. I yelped, my body recoiling from the sting as the arrow embedded itself deep into my bone.

I fell back, clutching my arm as the agony shot through me. My eyes darted around in panic. The village guards. They were everywhere.

And then the shouting began. A chorus of angry, vengeful voices filled the air.

 "What is that?" "A goblin?! Intruder!" "Kill it!" Their words were full of rage. They surged toward me, swords drawn, claws ready to tear me apart.

 I turned, my gaze darting to the gates I had just barely glimpsed—my only path to safety now was the forest.

I ran.

The earth beneath my feet was soft and uneven, my legs weak and uncoordinated from exhaustion and fear, but I ran—faster than I had ever run before. I could hear the cries of the cat guards behind me, their shouts full of rage and bloodlust, urging each other on to catch me.

And then more arrows came.

They sliced through the air like sharp whispers of death, each one narrowly missing me. The sharp hiss of the first arrow barely brushed my cheek, but the next one struck—cutting deep into my side, leaving a stinging wound that made my skin burn with the fire of agony. A third arrow whistled past, grazing my leg and leaving a deep gouge in its wake.

I could feel the blood trickling down my body, dripping from my injuries, but there was no time to stop, no time to tend to the pain. The sound of pursuit, the relentless pounding of feet, the whistle of the arrows, it all felt like it was closing in on me.

Finally, I burst through the thick underbrush, my feet sliding across the slippery, wet earth, and I found myself by the edge of a small waterfall. The sound of rushing water was deafening, almost as if it was calling to me, offering some sort of sanctuary. I could see the water cascading over the rocks in a foamy rush, the froth bubbling up violently as it crashed below. The chill of the mist kissed my face, but it was no comfort—not now.

I turned around, my vision blurry with tears, desperation clouding my thoughts. I had hoped, prayed, that they would stop chasing me—that they would see me for the weak, pitiful creature I was and let me go. But instead, all I saw was the flash of more arrows, sharp and deadly, streaking toward me.

There was no escape.

One of the arrows hit me square in the leg, the force of the impact sending a shockwave of pain through my body. I screamed, my vision spinning as I lost my balance, stumbling backward. My legs gave out beneath me, and before I could even comprehend what was happening, I found myself plunging into the cold, unforgiving waters of the river.

The world turned upside down.

The rush of the water swallowed me whole, pulling me down, the currents relentless and fierce. I flailed, gasping for air, but the river was too strong, the roar of the waterfall ahead too deafening. 

The freezing water slammed into me like a hammer, stealing the breath from my lungs, dragging me into its relentless, raging current. My body was tossed and battered, slammed against unseen rocks beneath the surface. The pain was unbearable, but the worst part—

I couldn't breathe.

My lungs screamed for air, my mouth opened instinctively, but only water rushed in. The river had swallowed me whole, twisting me, pulling me deeper, deeper—until there was no up, no down, just darkness.

The last thing I heard before the water overwhelmed me was the distant shouts of the cat people, the sound of their pursuit fading into the roar of the waterfall as I was swept away into the unknown.