Chapter 43 PTSD

We huddled together, shivering from fear as the heavy footsteps of the guards echoed from outside, sending jolts of fright through our bodies. But as the minutes melted away, the sounds of the guards faded into silence. Relief washed over me as it seemed the evil goblins did not suspect our attempted escape - we were safe, at least for now. With this faint sense of safety, my mind relaxed, and exhaustion overtook me as I slipped into sleep.

The morning came all too soon but before I set off to work in the fields, I did all I could to realign Kaka's broken and dislocated limbs, offering whatever comfort and care I could muster.

As I tended to Kaka's wounds as best as I could, I felt a deep sense of helplessness wash over me. Despite my efforts, I knew that his injuries ran deep, and I could only offer him the small comfort of gentle touches and soothing words.

With a heavy heart, I left him to rest, his weakened form nestled amongst the hatchlings, each of whom I gave a tender belly rub and showered with kisses of compassion and love before reluctantly tearing myself away to face the day's toil in the fields.

The sun beat down relentlessly, its oppressive heat bearing down on my weary body, intensifying the pain that throbbed in every fiber of my being. Each step felt like I was made out of lead, my limbs heavy with exhaustion as I trudged through the endless rows of crops, my vision swimming with fatigue. The day stretched on endlessly, the minutes dragging by like hours as I struggled to maintain my footing. My vision blurred, glazed over with exhaustion and agony, but I forced myself to take in the scene around me.

The breeding farm, usually a place of unending torment, seemed even more oppressive. The guards moved about with an uncharacteristic nervousness, their eyes darting around as if expecting an attack at any moment. Their usual cruelty was magnified by their tension, and they lashed out at the slaves more frequently and with greater ferocity. Every whip crack and every cry of pain seemed louder, more intense. The air was thick with fear and anger.

The adventurer's escape had shattered the fragile balance of power on the farm. The guards' faces were twisted with a mix of fury and anxiety. They barked orders and struck down anyone who moved too slowly or dared to look up. The slaves, already broken and beaten, were now utterly terrified, their eyes wide with dread and their bodies trembling with the effort of trying to stay invisible.

As evening descended and the sky was painted in hues of fiery orange and dusky purple, I felt the last vestiges of my strength slipping away. My body cried out for rest, but there was no respite to be found in the unforgiving fields. With aching limbs and a pounding head, I collapsed to the ground, the cool earth offering little comfort against the biting pain that gnawed at my senses.

I lay there, my face pressed against the filthy ground, my eyes half-open and unseeing. The night sky stretched above me, indifferent to my suffering. Stars twinkled faintly, their light a mockery of my misery. Around me, the sounds of the night began to rise: the distant howls of creatures in the forest, the murmur of other slaves settling into their miserable rests, and the occasional bark of a guard.

But none of it mattered. I was too tired, too broken. My body had reached its limit, and my mind followed closely behind. The edges of my vision darkened, and the world began to fade. In my mind, I heard the faintest whisper of hope - Kaka's voice, urging me to hold on, to stay strong. But it was a whisper drowned out by the overwhelming tide of exhaustion and pain. The night enveloped me, and I surrendered to its cold, merciless embrace, my body collapsing completely into the dirt.

The night passed in a haze of fitful sleep, my consciousness drifting in and out of troubled dreams. It was in one such moment of uneasy slumber that I was stirred awake by the sound of distant voices raised in a heated argument. With bleary eyes, I crawled to the edge of the crop field, my senses alert despite my exhaustion.

There, in the dim glow of the moonlight, I saw Slasher engaged in an argument with an orc, the very same creature who had been tasked with guarding the adventurer. The orc's voice was thick with anger, his words a harsh jumble of guttural grunts and snarls as he berated Slasher. Despite my fatigue, I strained to catch snippets of their conversation.

"You filthy rat," he snarled, his fists clenched in fury.

"You put something in that drink you offered last night. I missed my shift on guard duty, and the adventurer escaped because of you, you rat! You set me up!"

Slasher and his silver tongue met the orc's accusations with a smirk.

"What? Did I put something? That's crazy talk!" he scoffed, his tone laced with mock innocence.

"I did no such thing. It's not my fault that a mighty orc like you is a lightweight and can't handle a little drink. Or what? Will you go and cry to the goblin master, telling him how you were drinking on your time of duty? Hmm? Mighty orc bested by a cup of drink! Ghahaha!"

The orc growled in frustration, his muscles tensing with the urge to lash out at Slasher in a fit of rage.

"I should kill you right here, right now, you damn rat!" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"You are lucky the boss does not allow us such freedom. You would be dead for such insolence!"

With a final glare, the orc turned and stomped away, his heavy footsteps fading into the darkness. As soon as he was out of earshot, Slasher burst into a fit of laughter, his cackles echoing through the quiet night. He muttered to himself, his voice full of smug satisfaction.

"Ghahghahghhaa! Stupid brute, I outsmart you all, you fools. Soon this farm will be mine, you will see. That shitty boss will be no more. Soon, I will be the boss. Gragahahaahgagahaa!"

With that, Slasher scampered off, his laughter still ringing in my ears. I lay back down in the dirt, my mind reeling from what I had witnessed. The tension in the breeding farm was at an all-time high, and it was clear that the situation was growing more dangerous by the day.

After a few hours of rest in the crop field, I recovered enough strength to crawl back into the shed to return to Kaka. I dragged my body across the ground, each movement a struggle, and tumbled inside. Kaka was sleeping, his broken form looking slightly more at peace. Someone, probably Grub, had come by to look after him and cleaned him up. He lay on his straw bed, his frail frame barely covered by a tattered blanket. The hatchlings were trembling, nestled around Kaka's body, seeking warmth and comfort. I nestled right next to the rest, feeling the day's exhaustion wash over me, hoping for a reprieve until morning.

But the world we lived in was not so kind as to grant us a peaceful night of rest. In the dead of night, the oppressive silence was shattered by the creak of the shed door. A flickering light cast eerie shadows on the walls as Slasher, with his sadistic grin and a torch lighting his path, walked in. His eyes gleamed with cruel delight as he closed the door behind him, trapping us inside.

With a sadistic chuckle, he stepped further into the shed, the torchlight casting grotesque, dancing shadows. He looked around, his gaze settling on the pitiful scene before him. Kaka's frail form, the trembling hatchlings, and my exhausted, broken body lying among them - an image of vulnerability and despair.

"Well, well, what do we have here? A cozy little family gathering?" Slasher sneered.

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing with cruel intent. The hatchlings whimpered, clutching each other tighter, their small bodies shaking with fear. Kaka stirred, his eyes fluttering open, widening with terror as he saw the torch-bearing figure standing over us.

"Wreeee! No! Please... leave us be." Kaka whimpered, his voice barely leaving his cracked lips.

Slasher's response was a harsh laugh, a sound devoid of any compassion. He reached out with his free hand, grabbing Kaka by the collar and hauling him up, the frail goblin dangling like a rag doll. Kaka's legs kicked weakly, his eyes wide with pain and fear.

"You think you can just rest and recover, you shity slave, huh? You worthless worms deserve nothing but pain." Slasher hissed, his face inches from Kaka's. 

He threw Kaka to the ground with a force that made him cry out in agony. The hatchlings scattered, squealing in terror, but there was nowhere for them to go. Slasher advanced on me next, his shadow looming large.

"And you," he growled, grabbing a loose skin of my wrinkled scalp and yanking me up.

 "I will beat you tomorrow. Today, I have come to show these little shit hatchlings who is the boss around here."

My heart pounded in my chest, the terror nearly paralyzing me, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. 

"Please," I begged, my voice trembling.

 "We've done nothing to you. Why do us so? Why hurt us so?"

Slasher's face twisted with fury, and he struck me across the face with the torch, the blow burned and sent me sprawling to the ground. 

"Did nothing?!" he roared. 

"You exist, and that's enough! Shitty slaves are just tools! Tools to be used and abused, nothing more. A damn plaything! You don't ask questions only suffer!"

He turned his attention back to Kaka, who lay on the ground, whimpering. With a vicious kick, he sent Kaka rolling, his body coming to a stop against the wall. The hatchlings cried out, their tiny voices filled with horror and helplessness.

With us disciplined with a few more kicks and punches, Slasher barked orders to the hatchlings.

 "Listen up, you shitty little runts! Form a line, now! If not, I’ll rain down some more blows on your beloved caretaker, and if that’s not enough, I’ll strangle you all one by one!"