1.1.5 : Desperate Flight

 

 

I wake, finding that I’m once again bound, laying on the cold stone floor of the mountain cavern, rediscovering the discomfort of an injured throat all over. Having a break from it just makes the pain all the sharper. My eyes are filled with tears and a small pool of tears lay beneath my head, matting my hair. 

I’d just been crying for some stupid hormonal reason in my sleep. The goblins crouch around a fire, eating. There’s a sickly sweet smell in the air. Smoke billows out the passageway to somewhere, probably the exit. My eyes might instead be leaking tears from the corners because of the acrid, sweet smoke filling the air. All the discomfort and pain are reason enough, but I suppose my dream might have something to do with it, not to mention being stuck here, waiting to die.

I struggle in my bonds and crane my neck and sit up as much as I can, considering that my arms and legs are so tightly bound. Straining against the knots makes me feel more and more uncomfortable as the cords bite into my flesh. My whole cursed body aches, nonstop. 

My eyes lock onto what they’re eating to distract me from my suffering and my stomach growls involuntarily. There’s a refuse pile beside the campfire. On examining it, I see large and small bones with pink and white still clinging to them. Like a macabre, squatty christmas tree, where a star would sit is a head with glazed eyes that’s looking directly in my direction.

The oppressive sensation coming from those eyes feels accusative. It’s as though I’m guilty of having caused her death. Blood drips from the stump of what’s left of her neck and mouth. More and more as I stare into her eyes, I feel that I know her.

“Gardenine…” I finally whisper in a horrified tone, crying. 

Everything whites out with my eyes locked onto those flinty, yet fear-filled filmed-over-eyes of hers, eyes that blame me for everything that’s happened. I’m sucked into those eyes and the white mists shroud my sight.

Jason, Brody, and Andrew all stand around me with big, sappy grins on their faces. “What shall we do today?” I ask coyly.

For some reason, I’m sitting somewhere in the back, while Halima seemed to half-sit in the back of mine in the last dream I had. Now this one’s in total control; otherwise I’d never... 

None of them answer, looking at each other, sizing up each other’s potential suggestions to compete for my favor. 

….

…….

……….

After a long wait, I break the silence by suggesting, “Since none of you have ideas, how ‘bout we do what I have in mind, boys? I, for one, think it’d be famous if we went to the river to play some.” 

I wink at Andrew, the one among them that I know to be the best swimmer of the three. He’ll have a chance to show off. Oh sure, the other two try very, very hard no matter what we do to compete, but Andrew knows that he’ll be at an advantage this time. Maybe he suspects that I favor him a mite over the others, but I wouldn’t wanna let that be known. It’s so much more fun, having all three chasing me all around Pinesdale each day. 

Not to mention, I’m not ready to have a baby and settle down with Andrew just yet. Doing this helps me to keep him from insisting and our families from making the formal arrangements. They’d just rush to get it done and we’d move into a house he’d build on the outskirts.

Of course, I want that to happen. He’s a fine and well-muscled man—probably the finest catch anyone could hope for.  I will most probably choose him, but for now, we’ll just have fun.

Shit… this is torture…

We head together to the river that fronts the small village and as we pass other villagers, a few of them laugh at my antics. I don’t have an especially good reputation right now because of how I lead on all the young boys all at once, but at least I get my pick of them, that poor excuse of a pilgrim, mutt Halima. 

Hmph. She might be a lil’ prettier than me, but ‘cause she hasn’t any parents nor heritage and is part of an outsider family, appearing out of nowhere overnight... With no trade to call her own, unless she learns her mother’s embroidery or becomes the village’s errand girl once Jeraldine’s gone, there won’t be no one to carry her deadweight. That chubby outsider for sure has the short end of the stick, taking care of useless Halima.  I might feel bad for my old friend, but being a village beggar is her lot.

Speaking of which, as we leave the village, approaching the river where Halima usually sits alone, I look and spot Halima at work on the river’s bank, rubbing vigorously at some clothes she was assigned to wash today. Her blue eyes are glazed over as usual. Her bright blonde hair is tied up on her head in a bun to keep out from her eyes.

With sparkling eyes, I leap into the river right there and then, making the biggest splash possible. The boys following me laugh delightedly at my impetuousness, and dive after me. When I resurface with two of them resurfacing after I do, Jason chastises me, “Gardenine, you should take better care with your health. What if you dove and hit a rock?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jason. This bank was long since cleared of anything but little river stones.”

That one tries to dominate me with his gestures of concern, thinking he’ll win my favor by being a worry nanny.

 Rolling his eyes, Jason he wades in after me as I resurface, swinging my head around to clear the water from my long hair. Water sprays in every direction.

Looking Halima’s way, I smile, seeing that I managed to score again. Most gratifying.

I lock eyes with Halima, seeing that she’s been successfully shaken from her reverie. She eyes me enviously as always and yells at me, “Gardenine! Leave me be!”

“Maybe you should find a better place to scrub clothes, Halima. It’s not my fault that you love to wash in my favorite swimming spot.”

…

“You’d just follow me again and tell me it’s your new ‘favorite’ swimming spot.” Halima stamps and leans down to pick up a river stone. The suffering in her eyes as she seethes is purely delicious. Just the sight fills me with so much exuberance over seeing Halima’s anger and despair, I turn to the closest boy… ah Brody. 

He has a stocky and muscular body with shaggy, long hair and well-tanned skin from his work in his family’s fields. My arms go around him and I kiss him real well. Even though I’m not enjoying my kiss with him, not like with Andrew since he’s so clumsy about it, I treat it like any with my favorite. If I didn’t lead all three on with enthusiasm, they might get tired of me. Worse than that, Halima might actually find some kinda happiness with one of them as a result. For nearly killing me that day, Halima has to suffer as long as possible.

My eyes lock onto Halima’s again, mid-kiss and I smile faintly as our tongues explore each other’s mouths wantonly. 

“Jeez, asshole! Don’t hog Gardenine all to yourself!” Andrew is oh-so-very jealous. 

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I feel sorry for the game I have to play with his feelings and I swear that I’ll make it right in a few years with him once we marry… but I’m just not ready just yet, even if you are.

Halima looks down, utterly despondent.

Her sorry guardian, Jeraldine, walks over from the village to stand behind Halima and she glares at me for all she’s worth, not like she loves Halima or anything. I can’t not see her baleful and disapproving expression that she turns on me whenever I’m teasing Halima.

Everything goes white again and I’m once more bound on the floor of the cave and the goblins are still eating what’s left of Gardenine with relish. I spit some saliva mixed with my own blood. I felt horror over the fact that a human being is being devoured by monsters right in front of me, and that fact still makes me sick, but riding for a short time in Gardenine’s rotten mind was like a strange form of torture, witnessing how a bully thinks and operates. 

Glad to be out of her mind and back in control over any body, I look around some more, noticing that the sacks the goblins… were dragging are deposited near me. Realizing this, I sniff, starting to notice the odor of their bodies beginning the process of their decomposition. It’s subtle, but a pall of death surrounds me under the stronger notes of smoke carrying the sweet smell of cooking flesh.

Damn it… Can’t I do anything? Anything at all? I want the power to kill these damned goblins! Please, whoever you are, don’t do this to me!

The goblins are entirely occupied by their grisly meal. They’re not quiet about it, either. They jibe at each other with crude jokes in another language. They must have been speaking a language that I can understand earlier just so I could understand them.

Scanning around me for something I can work with, I see absolutely nothing helpful. Their weapons are with them, secured at their hips in scabbards. Writhing along the floor, I decide to try to worm my way out  while their attention is firmly on their feasting and conversation. There aren’t any sharp rocks I can use to fray the rope that binds my wrists and ankles.

These creatures are more clever than they look. I need to be careful.

With determination and pain wracking my whole body, I slither away from the campfire they’re eating around. It looks awfully dark behind them, so I guess that that passageway doesn’t lead out. Of course they would want to set up camp as deep in a cave as they could for security. I head the other way, towards the passageway most near me, counting on the goblins being lazy.

My progress is agonizing. Mostly agonizingly slow. I hope it takes them hours to eat the rest of Gardenine. I’ll need all the time you can buy for me. This is how a desperate girl who wants to save her own skin thinks. 

I empathize with the tale of a poor, repressed girl who had no real family. We have a lot in common, even if she was a girl born into a rude, medieval village in this dream world. We’re similar right down to having been adopted after losing what family we had. 

Suppressing mutters over my discomfort, I manage to creep my way around the bend away from the main chamber before having to pause before my hard breathing attracts attention.

What will I do once out of this cave? Where will I go?

Memories stream into my head. Visions of fire and slaughtering. Several bands of goblins attacked the village. I don’t know its name, but that doesn’t matter. I know that the village burned this morning in a raid before most got up to work in the fields.

I’m not sure if anyone survived. How did Halima survive when everyone else is dead?

Taking a deep breath, I work up the energy to wriggle my way further out to… freedom? Safety?

Hot tears fall from my eyes and I leave a trail of spots of water on the stone and dirt as I crawl through, scrabbling and undulating my way out. 

How far have I gotten so far? I wonder, but I don’t want to waste energy trying to crane my neck to see if I made any appreciable progress. If I’m heading to the entrance of the cavern, I still don’t see anything in all this darkness. The crackling of the fire echoes behind me along with the raucous laughter of the goblins.

Just keep fighting. That’s what a hero does, if that’s what you’re supposed to be. A hero fights long past the point when anyone else would quit moving.

Nodding, I work on crawling out and as I continue to struggle, a miracle happens—the binding on my hands starts to loosen. I smile, thinking. Of course! Goblins suck at tying knots! With enough determination, I can get myself free… but only if I have the time!

I can stop right here and focus on freeing myself, but I know how far I managed to get when I had a weapon in my hands before. If they track me, I’d not have much of a chance under the circumstances. Stopping my squirming would be the same as inviting recapture, so I keep wriggling and press on beyond endurance. 

The way I have to move seems to be setting me free in the process. It might just take a bit longer this way. I fall into a stupor over time, working my way out when my wrists finally come free. Ironically, I’m exhausted, but a rush of adrenaline and the sensation of blood circulation returning to my hands clears my mind a bit.

Taking deep quiet breaths through my nostrils, I push my way up to a crouch, reaching down with shaky arms to untie my legs. It wouldn’t take long if my fingers weren’t so slick with blood and sweat. Suppressing an urge to curse aloud, I pick at the rough material tethering my legs together. Welts are rising from ridges of my flesh where the rope digs in. Where my feet poke out from my cheap leather shoes, all the clothes left to me, I notice that they look a little purple. I can’t feel them.

I pick at the knot and start feeling it start giving way by the time my fingertips start getting raw from picking at the course threads that make up the rope. They poke into my flesh almost like thorns as though the goblins tied me with a thorn-covered vine. 

Chewing my lip, I sigh in relief and smile when the knot finally comes undone, but my newfound hope withers inside me when I see glowing eyes lurking in the dark. How long has that goblin been there, watching me struggle to free myself?

“Where do you think you’re goin’, breakfast?” a familiar voice asks me. It was that goblin. SHIT! 

Filled with terror, I submit to a flee or fight reaction, bolting to my feet with my legs flopping and my arms barely doing better. I madly dash up the passageway and the goblin starts laughing. “Ahahaha! You’re not gettin’ too far! Keep fightin’!”

I can’t spare the energy to look behind me but I hear the flapping of his heavier footsteps following me up the cavern and after a while other similar noises join in, creating a cacophony of footfalls that echo through the cave. And all these noises become louder, signaling that my time is running out. I’m exhausted, not to mention slower than I’d like and it’s only a matter of time before I trip in this pitch-darkness.

Don’t give up! Don’t quit! Keep fighting! My thoughts echo the cruel sneering words of the goblin.

My lungs burn and my body feels near to collapse, sweat dripping off my nude, dirty body before I see a twinkling of light where the cave opens up onto the mountainside. And as I progress, the footing becomes more and more uncertain, the smooth slope becoming more gravelly. 

Damn it! This is a real nightmare.

Feeling my eyes start to glaze again as I plant my feet as deliberately as I can, I pick up the faint outlines of rocks along the path, barely hearing the goblins chasing me out from the cave. But serendipity can only carry me so far. I knew that before I started running. I knew that my weak body would fail me. With a wail, I go down when my legs fail to move now only doing so remotely like they should and I reach for the cavern’s entrance with tears running down my cheeks. This isn’t even remotely fair! This is fucking unfair! 

A burst of wind explodes through the passageway. I hit the ground, but the wind buffets me, causing me to slide back deeper into the cavern as though the world is trying to tell me that I belong down there, in the goblin’s stomachs! Looking up desperately, my eyes meet the eyes of a newcomer. His eyes don’t glow like the goblins’ do, but they possess a dark gravity that attracts my eyes to his like filings to a magnet.

Everything goes white as I fall forward towards his eyes in some sense.