The night seemed bleak as bright incandescent stars high in the heavens, shimmered not at the catastrophic event occurring. The crescent moon seemingly hidden from the world as the pains of life occurred.
Blood, Blood, Blood
The whole ground was littered with blood, dying screams, murderous shouts, and brutal killings that no man could ever wish upon their enemy. In the midst of all that cacophony, a dead boy's corpse lay in a pool of their own grotesque vomit. His murderer smiling gleefully at the murder perpetrated, but they to suffered a death of their own.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no... No... NOOOOOOOO!!!
Denial... the denial of dying such a death reverberated throughout their mind.
The fear of their life being snuffed out, raised its voice in an ugly cry.
The pain of lying subject to their death, maddened them.
Yet despite all that, the cold embrace of death, engulfed their pitiful soul leaving behind a cadaverous corpse.
Being killed by a blunt object, the highly emaciated person's corpse lay atop the pool of yellowish-green disgust. Their silver green hair, soaked deep in the pool,
What a disgusting sight it was to behold.
The caravan guards watched. Vicious grins adorning their varied faces, glints of pure madness reflected in their varied eyes. They all watched the madness taking place before them, with great interest, reveling in the primal instinct of human desire, to survive.
One child bit in to their mother's throat, ravaging their neck all whilst the person who brought them to existence, screamed profanities and horrors unspoken with undisguised anger and fear painting their thin faces.
Another brought bundled mana-free chains upon an already dead woman, their skull already caved by the blunt force, their greyish brain-matter sprayed on the ground... yet despite all that, the person continued unabated with fierce malice contorting their emaciated faces.
Watching this from the sidelines of the camp, many guards seemed inhuman as some smiled at the bacchanalia happening before them, other greatly cackling at the ridiculous deaths the slaves were exposed to, and others watched the madness before them as though they saw beasts killing each other. Undisguised pride swelled in their evil hearts, as the orange-yellowish flames that illuminated the environment, served as a eye-opener, giving light to the debauchery happening.
Eventually the full plated guards stopped the bacchanalia happening, lest they ran out of slaves to sell and keep, fueling their disgusting ways.
The cadaverous elder who had told the young boy formerly about the land of the elves held a dazed expression. Sweat dripping down his weathered forehead, hands slick with blood and cold sweat. His expression though dazed, held fear and horror, twisting their weathered countenance.
.... I killed them.... I killed them.... I killed them.... I killed them
A continuing thought it was, grief shackling their soul, murder etched on to their being. His dazed expression fell on the corpses laying lifelessly on the ground. Man, child and elder... each killed for his own selfish desire, the all consuming desire to live.
He waded his way though the field of corpses, with a dazed mind and expressionless steps, his head held low. Eventually reaching the body of the boy he had warned earlier.
Drowned in his own vomit and another corpse atop him, a pitiful death had he suffered, the elder not sparing another glance reached one of the wagons then sat down. His body trembling, he clasped both legs and buried in cadaverous countenance in them, silent tears streaming down.
Many slaves soon followed the elder's example, buried deep in grief at their own expressions.
Crazed laughter's were heard here and there, all trying to make sense on what had happened, what had they done wrong in their lives to be subjected to this kind of torture, who had they angered, what sort of bad luck had they chanced upon. Crazed laughter was all that they had in this hell they were all subjected to.
"SLAVES!!"
The boisterous voice of the caravan leader, sent the already grief stricken wretches into a panic. Horror loomed in their already despair struck souls, as they assembled together.
"Good work, now gather the dead mongrels and rest for the night."
His loud but restrained voice, lowered the moral of the slaves but they were grateful-no his words did not spark the least bit of gratitude in their already worn down souls. The death they had caused, the horrors they had implemented-, all to survive, stained their souls. They felt death was suitable for their horrible sins.
Seeing that despair painted their already gaunt expressions, the caravan leader Juon seemed unbothered by it, as he approached the slaves.
A wicked grin perpetually on that pale face of his.
Reaching a particular slave, malignant desire burned in his dark heart.
"You, come with me."
The lady approached was thin, thin enough for one to be concerned if they ever ate properly, but beauty was still there.
Sensing that a miserable fate awaited her, horror grasped her soul. Its icy claws tearing away at her heart as tears welled up.
Walking with the giant of a man, many could not bear to look at her, some glad it wasn't them, others fearing for their selves, but all shared one thing, despair.
The cackling of the guards, the evil glints in their eyes and the madness that gripped their souls, ran deep as the young woman followed the giant robust man towards one of the carriages.
Crystalline tears streaming down her face.