Chapter 44:

Chapter 44 The Generous Guard Named Slasher

Hermit's Diary

 Kaka, suspended in the air, dangled helplessly between the two guards who held his legs in a cruel split. The scene was a grotesque display of power and sadistic pleasure for the twisted amusement of the goblin guards.

Slasher, the sadistic goblin guard, approached Kaka with a malicious grin, the blunt piece of his broken spear in his hand.

"Ghehehe! This shit slave won't forget this day for a long time!" Slasher jeered.

The sadistic goblin guard raised the broken spear high above his head and swung the blunt side of the spear down with cruel intent, aiming for Kaka's vulnerable, exposed, and filthy butthole.

Kaka, restrained and helpless, hung limp and unconscious in the air, his green skin soaked with cold sweat. The guard's mighty windup created a momentary hush in the air as everyone braced for the impending strike. The broken spear, a makeshift instrument of torment, descended with a force that promised destruction.

Guards laughter burst through the camp as the spear crashed down, penetrating Kaka's exposed and feces-smeared butthole. His filthy flesh squelched under the brutal impact, feces spraying in all directions. The guard, reveling in the brutality, twisted the spear, lodging it good in Kaka's once pristine butthole.

Kaka's eyes snapped open, and he let out a guttural scream, his body convulsing in pain.

 "WRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHHHHHH! " he bellowed, his voice carrying an otherworldly resonance. His limbs spasmed uncontrollably, and he clenched his teeth against the searing pain. Kaka desperately tried to reach for the pole that was lodged in his butthole but he could not reach it. 

"Someone... help! The pain... tearing me apart! Reeee...! The pain... make it stop... Reeee...! Why... REEEEEEE!" Kaka's desperate pleas echoed through the camp only to fuel the laughter of the evil goblins.

The hatchlings, who had been forced to witness this sadistic display, cringed in horror, their tiny frames shivering imagining the pain. The guards, indifferent to Kaka's suffering, continued their laughter, finding perverse joy in the destruction they had wrought upon the defenseless goblin slave.

With a cruel cackle, they let go, allowing Kaka's abused body to flop painfully onto the hard ground. The sickening sound of splat echoed through the camp.

The guard, still reveling in the torment he had unleashed, cackled with a vicious glee.

"Look at this shity thing! A pathetic sack of shit," he sneered, his comrades joining in the degrading laughter, "That'll teach this shit to know his place!"

Kaka lay sprawled on the ground, his overstretched legs splayed wide open in the middle split stretch position, and a big wooden stick lodged well in his butthole, a grotesque form of torture. His ballsack was blackened and grotesquely swollen, pulsating on the ground. White foam continued to bubble from his mouth, a visible manifestation of the brutality he had endured. His eyes, wide open but vacant, stared into the distance, a haunting reflection of the toll the spear blow had taken on him.

The guard, twirling the pointy side of his broken spear in his hand with malicious satisfaction, approached Kaka. A malevolent glint danced in his eyes as he spoke, "Lesson learned, you slave piece of shit. Know your place, trash! Next time we will not be so generous! Never mess with the mighty guards," he sneered, punctuating his words with a final, brutal kick to Kaka's prone form. The pore goblin was abused far past his limits, he convulsed once and remained motionless on the cold ground, his pitiful state a reminder of the harsh order that ruled the goblin camp.

As the guard sauntered away, his callous laughter fading into the background, the other two guards joined in the act of degradation. They spat on Kaka and me, an act of further humiliation that left a lingering, disgusting stench smearing our bodies. With disgust painted on their faces, they returned to their posts, indifferent to the suffering they had inflicted.

In the aftermath of this brutal display, I scraped the repugnant, stinking spit off my body and rushed to Kaka's side. The sight of him sprawled on the ground stirred a deep well of emotions. I fell on my knees beside him, ignoring the pain of my injuries, and tenderly embraced his big bulbous nose. 

Tears streamed down my face as I wept and cried, my desperate pleas echoing in the grim silence, "Kaka, wake! Wake! No sleep now, Muma Kaka. No sleep on the ground bed. Kaka, wake up! No like this, Kaka. We play hide and seek tomorrow, okay? Wake up, please!" The sound of my voice echoed in the desolation, a tiny goblin beseeching the heavens for a sign of life.

In response to my words, Kaka stirred, a faint glimmer of life flickering in his weary eyes. He whispered with hushed urgency, "It's... not over... little gobbie. Run... run back... run back to the tent, run now... run. I will... follow... run... no turning back... just run!"

Guilt weighed heavily on my heart for the pain Kaka endured and my lost friends because we didn't heed his warning. Tears welled up in my beady goblin eyes as I scuttled back to the safety of the tent, guilt gnawing at my insides like a hungry beast. Following his directive, I scuttled away as fast as my tiny spindly legs could carry me.

Yet, before I could even reach the tent, the cruel reality unfolded and I soon realized what Kaka meant by 'not over yet'. The guards, reveling in their sadistic amusement, began hurling chunks of dirt, a sick game aimed at torturing Kaka further and possibly crushing me under the relentless assault. I could hear the malicious glee in their voices as the dirt projectiles whizzed past me, inches away from crushing my tiny frame. Panic set in, and my heart raced as I darted towards the safety of the tent.

Peeking through the tiny hole in the tent wall, my heart sank as I witnessed the gruesome spectacle unfolding outside. Kaka, his tortured form barely recognizable, crawled pathetically across the ground. Each chunk of dirt was thrown, a cruel missile seeking to torment him further and crush any semblance of hope.

Kaka's anguished screams echoed in the air, the sound piercing through the hearts of us tiny hatchlings huddled within the safety of the tent. His dislocated legs, stuck in a grotesque split pose, painted a picture of torment that was hard to bear witness to. Each explosive impact sent clouds of dust into the air, merging with Kaka's anguished screams. The hatchlings, huddled inside the tent, watched in horror as Kaka inched toward the safety of our makeshift shelter. His body contorted with each clump of dirt striking his body.

Despite the agonizing crawl, Kaka eventually reached the feeble sanctuary of the tent, his body a canvas of blackened lumps, grotesque swelling, and haunting bruises. The pitiful whimpering that emanated from his broken form echoed the cruelty of the guards' sadistic game, leaving an unforgettable mark on our innocent goblin souls.

 With a guttural groan, he pushed himself up on his elbows. Despite the pain that contorted his features, Kaka reached for one leg with a shaky hand, his fingers tightly gripping the injured limb. Fear flickered in his beady eyes as he yanked at the limb, attempting to realign the dislocated hip. The air inside the tent grew heavy with the sounds of Kaka's labored grunts and the squelching of his joints.

We, the tiny hatchlings, watched in silent horror as Kaka tried desperately to realign his leg. He twisted and turned it in all directions, his screams resonating with the primal agony of the moment with each failed attempt. The atmosphere was saturated with the sickening sound of joints resisting alignment.

With a final, gruesome pop, Kaka managed to fix one of his joints. A fleeting screech escaped his lips, a mixture of relief and overwhelming pain. The ordeal had taken its toll, and Kaka's body gave in. With a heart-wrenching flop, his face smashed into the dirt, and he succumbed to the cruel grasp of unconsciousness.

The urgency to help Kaka fueled our tiny goblin bodies into a chaotic frenzy. We ran in wild circles around our fallen caretaker, our spindly limbs flailing in panic. With hands clasped to our tiny heads, we pondered how we could ease Kaka's suffering, and a plan emerged, born out of desperation and childlike innocence.

As a united swarm of hatchlings, we decided to tackle the problem head-on. We swarmed around Kaka's butt like a chaotic army of tiny saviors. Our minuscule hands, each barely the size of a pebble, clutched at the stick that was stuck in Kaka's butthole. The sight was comical, a cluster of goblin hatchlings latched onto a stick far too large for our tiny frames.

Summoning every ounce of our limited strength, we started to tug. As we strained and pulled, Kaka's unconscious form became an unwilling participant in our goblin rescue operation. The stick resisted our efforts, firmly embedded in Kaka's delicate butthole, stubbornly lodged in its fleshy grip. The pitiful scene unfolded with Kaka's unconscious form launching into horrific screams each time we strained against the stubborn stick.

In our eagerness to free him from this cruel stick, we pulled so forcefully that Kaka's body, unconscious and defenseless, was dragged a few inches across the ground. The noise of goblin hatchlings' efforts, combined with Kaka's agonized cries, created a surreal and distressing sound. Our attempts to alleviate Kaka's suffering only made him suffer more.

But our terror did not end just yet, Kaka's pained screams had lured in a goblin guard who was patrolling on his slave torturing duty. He walked in with a gleeful cackle, "Gheehehe! What is this delightful scream I hear!? Bunch of shit-stinking hatchlings and a pathetic slave with a stick up his ass. This looks like it will be fun! Gheheheh!"