Chapter 3: Rags and Robber

Countless steps they walked like this, Rags at the front and Robber at the back. Robber spoke, his voice was as harsh as usual to which path they took by his thoughts, lefts and rights but never did they turn back. How he knew the way was beyond Rags. He didn’t ask how the Robber knew or tried to guess, he put one foot in front of the other and kept his silence.

“The quiet is killing me, do you never speak, you haven’t even tried to run away.” Robber grumbled. “Are you playing nice, boy!” he raged raising his voice to a shout.

He kicked Rags in the back between the shoulder blades. It launched Rags forwards and sent him stumbling, but he kept his balance steadying his feet before he toppled over. Gasping in pain tears sprung from Rags’s eyes, but the darkness hid them as he hurriedly resisted the urge to cry a brief surge of incomprehensible images of people from the past appearing and blurring together with the singular purpose to ensure Rags did not cry when the man could notice.

“Does this damn cavern ever end!” complained the Robber. “Fuck, I need a shit. Stay their boy. Move, and I will rip your tiny cock off and make you eat it.” He warned his voice deeper than before. “That will shut your belly up!” he added with a laugh walking away as Rags’s stomach once again rumbled.

The Robber was crouched, only the faintest outline of his form was visible by the wall of the tunnel. Rags, in the darkness with a single, dimming, decaying light stood stunned at what was happening. For the first time, a feeling welled in him, he could feel a dim heat in his chest and a tug of a smile on his face.

Rags’ had his chance. He would be in charge, no more pain.

The Robber gave out a low groan as he presumable shat.

Rags winced like the Robber had struck him again at the sound. He had been in the presence of someone shitting before, yet being forced to listen was more degrading than any punch. He clicked his tongue, his teeth biting together, a flash of heat lit out his cheeks and his hands flexed to a fist.

But just as swiftly he let out a breath a dull pull from his stomach drew his attention he became aware of the pain centred in his brow, the weight of his limbs and the sickness of his soul.

The Robber was unaware of Rags’s torment but happy that he had shamed Rags and that Rags had proved his deference. A tune came to his lips and he hummed away as he wiped his arse and hands with the leaves of plants on him and a little water. He left the long and broad leaves on the ground as he pulled up his trousers and fastened his belt.

“Come, boy, I have a beast to slay and you have gold and jewels to carry.” Said the Robber with a smug grin.

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Both Rags and the Robber had to squint their eyes, creasing their faces and the Robber raised a hand to cover his eyes. Light. They walked towards it after their brief hesitations under its first appearance. “Come, come on” muttered the Robber as he picked up his pace walking past Rags who lagged unable to keep up with the Robber long and quick strides.

Eager to get out of the cavern, the Robber didn’t seem disheartened and had forgotten the treasure he had been seeking. They stepped out of the tunnel and entered a wide-open cavern. Far, far above them on a sheer vertical climb on sharp stones the light of the moon shone down from large gaps.

The cavern was curved like the inside of a dome but with a crack that led up to the sky. Water dripped from the pointed edges of rocks. Another cool rush of air blew through from the right.

The cold bit Rags’s exposed fingers. Rags looking to the left that was only dimly lit by the torch saw that after about ten paces the ground gave way to a sheer drop that went deeper to the bottom of the land. To the right and ahead was what seemed to be an open expanse with boulders. However, the torch illuminated only a little and a sheer drop could be anywhere and catch the unwary person.

“It seems we are not out after all but even deeper. We are closer now.” Said the Robber neither loudly nor quietly. His head was tilted up and his eyes looked at the moon and stars above.

Rags too took in the moonlight and let out a breath. His shoulders rolled forward till now rolled dropped and loosened. The fixed-line of his lips gave way to a downward curve. He gritted his teeth and let out a dry sob as his fist wound up and clenched.

He felt again.

Not the flash of a fiery blaming but an intense pain from his forehead that came to the fore of his attention and as he focused on it the pain lessened as it spread across his face and his chest tight till now from the pain he had avoided and not even recognised dissipated. He let out a few full breathe of air, a smile forming on his lips.

“We go on.” Uttered the Robber a solemn expression on his face. And the pain returned, and Rags fled from the overwhelming sensations and placed his awareness only on the lack of feeling and his ceaseless thinking. “You first, come on now. Go, go.” Said the Robber walking over and shoving Rags forwards into the dark.

They plodded onwards, slowly and carefully as they navigated the rocks that stuck out, the small and sudden drops as well as walking around boulders. The light of the moon helped them make their way through as it gave them a greater vision of what lay ahead. Rags, however, was tired and hungry, his foot hit a rock and gave out a yelp and he dropped the torch and tears rushed to his eyes.

He picked up the torch and after a few moments composed himself. The Robber had been quiet during this brief incident but spoke out seeing the pain in Rags’s reaction and his quick recovery.

“Stupid, boy. Drop it again, I dare yea. Dumb, noble brat.” Scorned the Robber.

The darkness and the glare of the torch masked the tightness of Rags’s facial muscles. His shoulder became hunched and back slightly bent and his eyes narrowed. Neither he nor the Robber noticed the behaviour change. Only the steady pain in his temples indicated any change to Rags. That the words had cut deeper than the hardness of stone.

“Faster, boy.” Growled the Robber.

Rags quickened his pace for a few steps then, went slower than before. His limbs felt dull and dead like lumps of metal, he pushed his will to them, to feel them. His legs were sore and his feet stinging. The Robber with a loud, wild noise that seem to come from his belly picked Rags up a thumb and a finger on the base of his neck and lifted him till they were face to face. Rags tried to ply away from the Robber’s hand.

“Listen. Noble boy. You creature wearing pieces. I’m the man. You are a brat in dead men’s rags.” Spat Robber. “No, father and his army to stop me, no pretty girls who don’t do as they are told and take their fucking as women should, and no child who doesn’t listen and obey me!” with each word the Robber voices grew louder and his tone thicker and duller. “It is just me and what I desire. And I want money.” claimed the Robber. “I am going to slay this monster and you are going to carry my gold. Good.”

Rags nodded.

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Dropping Rags, Robber gave him a little push forward. A few steps later and they were at the base of the hill.

It was a steep ascent, Rags had to use his hands at points, partly from fatigue partly to balance. His skin of the left palm cut on the sharp edge of one of the rocks. He paid it little attention, another painful throb among many demanding his attention. Bleeding hand to his side and the other holding the torch, the Robber with his long legs easily kept pace with Rags slow climb. Though even with years of experience in the Wilds, Robber felt the burn in his thighs as they neared the top and reach the summit on the small, steep hill.

They took a few moments to breathe, the Robber more conscious of his status, did so more subtly keeping his back straight and noise quiet. Rags absorbed in his feelings, the effort to breathe and the many pains screaming from his feet, legs, hand and his chest. All the while there was this constant pressure at his temples like a knife that every once in while was shaken.

His thoughts were confused or just silent. He was aware something was wrong, he just wasn’t sure as to what.

Still trying to catch his breath Rags was pushed forward more gently than before, a palm on the back of his head launching him ahead. With two small steps, Rags set the pace and started forwards, his torch illuminating the way, the Robber behind. They had only taken a few steps when they were met with the crack in the wall.

“In you go, boy.” Said the Robber.

Rags looked at Robber. Rags’ breathing was uneven, his small chest rising and falling. A tremor ran through his hands, the white of eyes was visible in the dark. It was a searching gaze.

Fear filled Rags, not of Robber. He despised him, but at this moment he knew he didn’t want to go through the crack. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere else but right now. He didn’t even know why he was scared, he was certain the crack scared him he felt wrong. It wasn’t the crack, the pain came closer but he just kept focusing on how he could go through the crack and got more and more afraid. How could he, him, do it? How could this, someone else, anywhere else would be better than him, the Robber he could do it just fine, not him, never him. By now he was as far from the pain as he could get and he was very frightened. The pain was always there.

With the glare of the torch, the boy’s gaze looked almost feral. Not anger, yet but that terror caused by overwhelming anxiety. The Robber remembered a rabbit looking like that, he and the boys had been playing it after his big brother had caught it. Each voice speaking a cruel torment that he should inflict upon it. Finally pined and bleeding with no escape, no future. It grew terrified. Robber had crushed its skull, it made a satisfying crunch in his hands.

Robber gave Rags two thumps to the head. To calm him down. Rather dizzy, Rags did not calm down but neither was he any worse. His panic continued is all.

“Go on, boy. I will be just behind you, pop the torch in first.” Encouraged the Robber. Rags heart pounding, sweating pouring off his palms and all over his body obeyed with a sort of stupid servility. Swayed to obedience by the emotive commands of Robber.

The crack is low about a metre and a quarter off the ground, it is more than wide enough for the small frame of Rags but will be a tight fit for the Robber. Throwing the torch through, Rags grabs the sharp edges of the bottom of the crack, lifting himself through, the sharp rock cutting into his palms and then tearing at the remains of his clothes and protruding into his soft belly. It is an awkward effort, but he makes it through, landing sorely by the torch with a thump. The Robber just as gracefully as the Rags makes it through the crack.

It was darker, beyond the crack, out of the moonlight. Like before. Suffocating stifling. It was confinement without end. It was like this eternally. Had there even been a before? Only a now and the awful sameness of what was inevitable to come. Trapped forever. Rags looked at Robber, paying attention to him for what seemed like the first time as Robber was dusting off his clothes. How wrong he was as a being. A loathsome criminal, no one could care for him, how could they? He was to blame, he is the source of the pain. He is all that is ugly and awful. He deserved to be hurt. It was just to kill him. This seemingly unquestionable assumption was fixed in Rag’s mind.

He felt the heat and pain in his cheek. A thumping, awful pounding in his chest. There was dull silence of reflection, fuzzy, dizzy quality of awareness as thought became instant action. His brow tightened as it knitted together painfully the nostrils of his nose widened as a scream ripped out from his open mouth he noticed the burning pain of his throat as the muscles in his neck contracted. The time he noticed and forget all this information is immeasurably quick.

Rags swung the torch at Robber but he was kicked in the solar plexus. He hunched over the breath escaping from his body. He desperately gulped in mouthfuls and a renewed sense of panic came to the fore as he struggled to breathe as the Robber choked him as he lifted him in the air one hand around his neck, which constricted Rags breathing as Robber squeezed painfully.

“That is enough.” Said Robber and he let Rags go.

Tears were dripping down Rags face, he desperately tried to wipe them away.

“Enough, it’s okay.” … Robber. “I know this is different and difficult. A few good smacks should have straightened you out as Pa said, It’s shameful the way you are acting.”

On hearing the last word any sense of suppressing his emotions, was gone as Rags let out a low moan and looked away. More tears poured out and the area around his eyes became red from his wiping and tears. Robber looked pain at having caused Rags to become even more upset. He started talking again after a brief pause, his words taking on a rambling quality

“But it is going to be okay. I will kill the monster then it will be all better, you can go back home. I promise.” Said Robber with felt sincerity.

Rags reactionarily distrusted the words, the possibility of their being genuine entered consideration only to the extent whereby its impossibility was affirmed. The idea that Robber could be anything other than absolute evil was just lies. The likely chance that any who knew Robber would agree that he would betray his word for his self-interest was conclusive evidence for Rags that there was no chance he meant his words at all.

Rags was out to express his thoughts in the vilest words he knew when he saw something behind Robber that caused him to scream! Robber, with over a decade of experience in ambushing, had already spun around when he saw the growing white Rag’s eyes. His hammer was already mid-swing, despite being at the height of possible human reaction, Robber was not quick enough as he was knocked to the side.

Rags stood transfixed, staring in the horrid yet beautiful eyes. The contradictory pull of flight and curiosity the unreconcilable desire to both flee and keep looking gripped him. He noticed dimly that it has the sleek and smooth skin of the darkest black creating a thick outline from the shadows created by the torch’s glare. It stood on four legs, claws had extended longer and sharper and knives. It was above both, immense in the presence it cast from its size and clear purpose. It open its mouth and bared its fangs the whites shinning purer than a priest’s cloth, the rank smell of consumed flesh flowing freely.

Robber attacked again, this time his hammer landing as he tried to crush one of its legs to little effect. Rags noticed the blood that dripped profusely from his open wounds horizontal cuts along his chest and belly. Most of his weapons had been dropped to the floor. It turned around and swiped again at Robber, it grazed his shoulder. With a burst of speed he fled to the crack, it followed Robber dove through narrowing avoiding death. He gave out a bellow before his dive. “Run!”

Rags confused and terrified through the torch at it, and the torch fell far short. Then he did run, in his panic straight into the rocky wall of the sides of the cavern.

It looked at Rags, a sniff then dashed into the shadows back from whence it came.

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