Chapter 45 True Madness

The scene was a harrowing display of desperation and survival. The hatchlings, barely more than infants, were subjected to this cruel trial, their bodies and spirits pushed to the breaking point. Their singed skin peeled away in places, revealing raw, tender flesh beneath. Their small frames were wracked with pain, each breath a struggle. 

Small limbs twitched erratically, spasming from the overwhelming pain coursing through their young bodies. Some hatchlings had collapsed entirely, their little forms lying crumpled on the ground, too weak to even cry out. The few who still had the strength to stand staggered forward in desperate, uneven steps, their legs buckling under the weight of exhaustion and torment. Their skin - once soft and supple - was now charred and cracked, splitting open at the joints as they moved, leaving trails of dark blood in the dirt behind them.

The hatchlings, once vibrant and full of life, now lay on the ground, their bodies smoking and blistered. They huddled together, seeking comfort in their shared misery. The scent of burnt flesh lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the price they had paid for survival.

Yet, despite the agony, they pressed on to survive another day.

 With each hatchling making the perilous leap, the weight of responsibility pressed heavier on the ones left behind. Their small, trembling bodies quaked under the pressure, knowing that a single misstep would doom not just themselves but all of them. 

The torch loomed like a burning menace, its flickering flames casting long, jagged shadows that danced ominously on the ground. Each hatchling’s wide eyes, brimming with tears and terror, focused on that blazing line of danger, the heat almost unbearable as it licked at their small forms.

The ones still waiting to jump could feel the scorching heat on their skin, their small frames drenched in nervous sweat. The flames reflected in their frightened eyes, and each of their hearts beat in frantic rhythm, as if in time with the flicker of the deadly fire. The pressure was unbearable. For such fragile creatures, every breath felt like a mountain to climb, and the weight of responsibility dragged them down. They knew, deep in their hearts, that failure would be the end.

The weight of expectation hung heavy in the air, pressing down on the last remaining hatchling as though the very ground beneath him would swallow him whole. His small, trembling body seemed to shrink even further under the crushing sense of responsibility, his wide, terrified eyes darting between the others who had already made it and the deadly torch that awaited his leap.

His whole body convulsed with anxiety, a pitiful wail escaping his throat as he stared at the flame that seemed impossibly far, the thought of failing sent fresh waves of panic through his young mind. His stomach twisted violently, bile rising in his throat until he couldn’t hold it back any longer. He heaved, his tiny body wracked with convulsions, and vomited onto the ground in front of him. The sour stench of fear filled the air around him, and the others winced but remained silent, knowing any sound might push him further into despair.

His knees buckled as he stood there in his mess, shivering with the cold dread that ran through his veins like ice. The smell of his failure clung to him, amplifying the shame that gnawed at his fragile psyche. His tiny hands trembled as he wiped his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as if, by blocking out the world, he could make the terrifying jump disappear. But it didn’t. The fire still crackled, the torch’s heat singeing the air around him, a constant reminder of the pain that awaited should he fall short.

With a sob that sounded more like a squeak, "Reeeeeeeeeeeeee!" the hatchling tried to steel himself.

 His body jerked forward in a frantic, desperate motion, his tiny limbs flailing wildly as he launched himself toward the torch. His form was awkward, uncontrolled - a scuttle more than a leap.

But as he was about to kick off the ground for the jump, his filthy, slippery feet betrayed him. Instead of leaping over the torch, he slipped and slammed into it, hugging the scorching flames.

A brutal, agonizing scream tore through the shed, "WREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" as the sticky, burning sap of the torch smeared his body, scorching him alive. The hatchling’s body flailed in an uncontrolled frenzy, his small arms and legs thrashing against the ground in a futile attempt to escape the agony, but the fire was relentless. His tiny hands, once so innocent and full of life, clawed desperately at the air, trying to tear the flames from his body, but there was no relief. Each second stretched into eternity as the smell of burning flesh filled the air, thick and disgusting, choking the remaining hatchlings as they looked on in horror.

His tiny legs buckled under him as the flames consumed his flesh, his movements growing slower, more erratic, until finally, he could struggle no more. With one last agonized gasp, his scorched, lifeless form tumbled to the ground, collapsing in a heap of charred remains.

Slasher watched with twisted glee. He waited until the hatchling had burned to a crisp and then put out the fire with a scornful spit. With a cruel laugh, he turned to the terrified hatchlings and barked, "Well, shitty runts!? What are you waiting for? Line up and jump again! Or I will twist your necks and feed you to your beloved caretaker!"

The remaining hatchlings, trembling and sobbing, reluctantly lined up once more. It was painfully clear that they would not make another jump, no matter how much they wanted to comply. Their burnt and blistered legs wobbled with fear, and their eyes glazed over with smoke, wide with terror, darted around for any means of escape. Before they could be forced to jump again, Kaka intervened with the last remnants of his feeble strength.

Kaka, dragging his broken body through the ground, crawled toward Slasher with a resolve born of desperation. His frail form moved inch by agonizing inch, every motion causing his limbs to quiver with exertion. His eyes once filled with a dim glimmer of hope, now reflected only pain and fear. As he reached Slasher, he clamped his rotten teeth over Slasher's ankle. It was a laughable attempt, a pathetic gesture that only served to highlight his helplessness.

Slasher looked down at the pitiable creature latched onto his ankle, a sneer of amusement curling his lips. To him, Kaka’s feeble bite was no more than an annoyance, a mosquito bite that barely registered. Instead of causing pain, Kaka's desperate act only deepened Slasher’s enjoyment of the torture and emotional anguish he was inflicting. He chuckled darkly, savoring the moment.

But Kaka did not let go. Despite the odds, he held his bite on Slasher's ankle with a grip born of sheer willpower. Tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks as he begged, his voice a ragged whisper.

"Please, stop this madness," he pleaded, his words barely audible.

"They are just hatchlings. Spare them. I beg you, in the name of whatever mercy you have left. I beg of you… I have nothing left to give but my life… Take it… but spare them… Please! Stop this madness!"

Slasher’s face contorted with rage, his lips curling into a sneer as his eyes blazed with fury. He reached down with one massive hand, grabbing Kaka by the neck and yanking him up off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Kaka's frail body dangled helplessly, his limbs flailing weakly, his breath reduced to strained gasps as Slasher’s iron grip tightened around his throat.

"Madness? Madness you say?!" Slasher roared, his voice booming through the shed like a crack of thunder. Spittle flew from his mouth as he snarled, his face inches away from Kaka’s. His eyes, wild and burning with cruel delight, locked onto Kaka’s terrified gaze.

 “Oh, you shitty little slave! I will show you madness, alright!”

Kaka's frail body hung limply from Slasher's grasp, his eyes wide with terror. Slasher grabbed his torch off the ground and jammed it into the dirt, then took Kaka's legs with both arms and spread them wide apart. Kaka's feeble attempts to resist were futile against Slasher's brute strength.

"Please... no... not again... not again!" Kaka whimpered, but his plea was cut short.

With a sadistic grin, Slasher plunged Kaka down onto the torch, jamming the scorching torch deep into Kaka's butt. The brutal scream tore through the whole breeding farm, a shriek of pure agony that echoed off the walls.

"WRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Kaka's body convulsed violently, his hands clawing at the air as the searing pain coursed through him. His once-pleading eyes rolled back into his head as he teetered on the brink of madness. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, mixing with the smoke of the torch.

Slasher laughed maniacally in Kaka's ear, savoring his suffering.

"Braaahgagahheeehehee! You see, shitty Kaka? This is what real madness feels like! You wanted madness? I gave it to you. Enjoy it, you're welcome!" he shouted, his voice dripping with cruel mockery.

"What a joke you are! Do you think you can protect those hatchlings? You can't even protect your stinking butt! But don't worry, Kaka. This is just the beginning. Soon, I will show you madness like you’ve never imagined. You’re nothing but a sack of bones, a useless little toy for me to break over and over again. Braghahahaheeee!"

Kaka's body twitched and jerked as the torch continued to burn him from within. His frame now seemed like a pitiful, broken doll in Slasher's hands. Every agonizing second felt like an eternity, each heartbeat a reminder of his helplessness.

Finally, with the torch put out and the darkness of the shed, Slasher grew bored. He tossed Kaka aside like a rag doll, landing in a heap on the ground, his body convulsing with aftershocks of pain. He lay there, barely conscious with a torch handle sticking out from his butt, still smoking. Tears streamed down his face, smoke rising from his gaping mouth, and his spirit shattered. He sacrificed himself but he managed to save the hatchlings from death.

With Kaka twitching and convulsing in pain, Slasher had his fill of torment and finally turned to leave our shed, the ground now littered with broken bodies and the air thick with the stench of blood, smoke, and fear. We lay there, physically shattered and emotionally broken, stripped of any remaining hope. With our spirits and bodies crushed, we could do nothing but lie on the cold, hard ground and stare vacantly into the void.

As the morning light seeped through the cracks of our worn shed, I stirred from a fitful sleep, the excruciating pain of my broken body refusing to let me rest any longer. The urge to move, to drag myself to the fields to avoid further punishment, gnawed at me. But my body refused to comply. I glanced over at Kaka; he remained in the same spot where he had collapsed, unmoving. The hatchlings, tiny and fragile, whimpered and squirmed in their agony, their restless movements a cruel reminder of our shared suffering.

I tried to rise, but the brutal pain shooting through my limbs was unbearable. I felt a warm trickle down my legs as my body betrayed me, and I fainted, my face smashing against the dirt floor.