Pit of the Chained

Samuel’s next days were spent in delirium. It was impossible to differentiate dreams from the wakeful moments. All melded together in a macabre cacophony. There were visions of hideous monsters and of his childhood spent with his friends. They kept either turning into monsters or were torn apart by those who had. Throughout his visions the flames of his rage were stoked. The betrayal and injustice of the fate of his gang, his only friends. Strange and unnatural creatures haunted him throughout the long days and nights.

“I will give you power,” a large demonic figure in front of him said.

“I will kill you,” a monstrous beast said.

“I will help you,” a small rock said.

“Please help me,” said a small white bird and wept bitter tears.

Samuel woke up in pain. It seemed to him that every day since the fateful raid had been filled with pain and was despairing due to the fact that the pain was worse every day. He’d have thought he might get used to it, making the suffering more bearable. He looked at the stump that was weeping pus and blood into a bandage and bound with a leather strap. It was enough to make him want to cry but there was not enough moisture left inside him to produce tears and his throat was too sore from the days of screaming with pain. It was a bizarre sight not seeing what should’ve been there and trying to scratch his nose only to feel nothing as his stump waved around uselessly.

He was lying at the bottom of a pit, surrounded by a steep cliff on one side, a slope on another and stair-like terraces on the rest of it. Dozens of destitute people limped along the bottom of the pit, carrying tools or containers of rocks and even wheelbarrows. All of them were malnourished and dirty, their expressions vacant and what little clothes they had were torn. It took Samuel a while to figure out that what he was seeing was real. The scene had already played out many times over the course of his fever but it seemed just another vision at the time.

Get up.

Samuel was startled and began getting to his feet despite the ache and throbbing pain all over his body. It wasn’t exactly a voice that he had heard. It was a feeling but at the same time a command that didn’t allow any disobedience.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Samuel heard the voice coming from behind him. He turned around and saw a man approaching. He was as dishevelled as the rest of the wretches in the pit but also very different. There was a light in his eyes and despite the scars all over his body, his stride was determined and strong. He grimaced at Samuel but the gesture seemed to be meant more like a friendly smile. Perhaps that was as much as their circumstances allowed.

Samuel tried to answer the man or ask one of the many questions that were swarming inside his mind. His voice didn’t seem to want to come out.

Carry the baskets.

Once again a feeling of obligation filled his mind. He began walking to a spot of the pit, where people were digging and swinging pickaxes. Several wicker baskets, buckets and sacks were being filled with whatever the people were digging up. The man walked beside him.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it,” he continued talking as if nothing strange had happened. “How are you feeling?”

Samuel cleared his throat. The man’s energy was jarring considering their state and surroundings. Somehow his attitude annoyed him even though he was glad someone was talking to him. “Who are you?” Samuel croaked.

“Perfect, you can understand me. I was starting to think you didn’t speak the same language even though you looked like one of us. I’m Madoc. Nice to meet you. Well as nice as it can be given our situation.”

“Yeah, hi. You seem to be pretty chipper about it.”

“Oh no, don’t take it the wrong way. Every day is a nightmare and an agony. I’ve seen terrors that will scar me for the rest of my short life.”

“I see.”

“At the same time, I have no intent of giving up. I may die, but it will be on my terms. By the way, I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”

“Mhm,” was all Samuel said.

“Suit yourself. One word of advice don’t make enemies here. Life is hard enough as it is. Also you could show a little appreciation.”

“For what?”

“I was the one who spent the most time taking care of you. I brought you water and even food.”

“I see.” Samuel felt some measure of guilt. “Thank you.”

“No problem. In all honesty, I didn’t have much choice in the matter. It was part of the orders,” Madoc said and gave another grimace. Samuel scowled at him and something about those words bothered him.

They arrived at the site and lifted up the filled baskets. Madoc lifted one in each arm with a grunt. Samuel Was surprised at the weight despite squatting to pick it up. He instinctively tried to help himself with the other arm but it was still missing. He clenched his jaw. He was alive but the arm was gone. Madoc was watching him closely. The commands in his head were already instructing him where to carry the load.

“You get used to it,” Madoc said.

“Losing my arm? What would you know?” Samuel spat back.

“I meant the weight of the rocks and ore.”

“Oh.” They walked in silence for a while. “Do you hear it too?”

“What?”

“The voice commanding you,” Samuel said.

“Sure, we all do.”

“Why? What is it?”

Before answering Madoc pointed to his neck, adorned by a metal collar. A pair of chains hung from it. “We all have one of this.” Samuel tried to feel his own neck, but his free hand was not there. With his condition he hadn’t even noticed the slight discomfort of the collar though it was obvious once he knew about it. A single chain dangled down his back. “They somehow control us through these. At least that’s what I think. It burrows into your mind and makes you do things. Luckily it seems that for the most part your mind can remain intact, which is more than I can say for most of these sorry saps.” Madoc motioned towards another group of workers carrying the heavy burdens. “No life in any of them any more.”

“Because of the collar?”

“Well that’s part of it. But it’s just that after living in despair for long enough, people tend to become apathetic. I used to talk to some of them but now they’ve started ignoring me.” They began ascending the slope out of the pit.

“Where are we taking these?” Samuel asked.

“Out of the pit. These are just useless rocks.”

As they neared the edge, they saw guards stationed there. They were human for the most part but deformed in different ways from tumorous growths in different places of the body, horns, hands ending in spikes and claws, asymmetry, and strange proportions. They held different weapons including spears and other polearms, swords, axes, and a guard with a grotesquely enlarged right arm held a great hammer that looked way to heavy for a regular person.

They regarded the duo with evil smiles. One of them said something to them but was incomprehensible to Samuel.

“Just keep you head down and move on,” Madoc whispered. They were frightening enough to prevent Samuel from gawking at their awful forms, so it was no problem for him to look down.

“What are they?” Samuel asked after they dumped the basket on a large pile of rocks.

“They are our guards.” After a frown from Samuel, Madoc continued. “They call them Cyrhil. Honestly I don’t know all that much about them. They like to enslave and torment people.”

“Can you understand them?”

“Of course. I’ve been around long enough. It does give me an idea. If you’re going to survive this place, it would be a good idea for you to learn the language. I can teach you some basics while we work. It will help us pass the time.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

They were still at the pile when they heard some sort of commotion. It was hard to make out from their distance, but one of the slaves had fallen under the weight of a wheelbarrow. One of the Cyrhil overseers was shouting and approached him. He cracked the whip he carried and struck the wretch, who yowled but didn’t get up despite his efforts. Another whip crack then two made no difference. Samuel grit his teeth.

“There’s nothing we can do for him,” said Madoc. Another guard was already dragging the man away. The torment was simply moved on to other workers instead. Even the guards near the slope seemed to be enjoying the spectacle.

“What will they do to him?” Samuel asked.

“Nothing good. Anyway, this is our chance.

“What?”

“Just come. Keep your head down.” Madoc guided him around the pile of rocks. “Go!” he hissed and started running. Samuel couldn’t believe his eyes. He is just running away. Is it really that simple? Considering the situation in the pit, Samuel decided that taking his life in his own hands was the better option and took off behind Madoc.

It wasn’t long before angry screams could be heard from the pit. Samuel felt the impulse to return and just explain that he had just gone to the toilet but it went away and so he ran.

In about one hour they were tied to posts in the middle of the pit, both sporting new wounds and bruises all over their bodies. Their escape attempt posed little to no challenge for the Cyrhil horde. The next morning they were once again working alongside all the other slaves. That’s what I am now. A slave.