Trigger Warning: Heavy Themes of Child Abuse
After the slavers finished settling everything with the watches and securing the animals and carts, those who were able to quickly ran to the bar area. Within moments, the bar area became loud and chaotic. Whatever alcohol the bar provided was distributed rapidly around, and I noticed the servers began to scurry around taking orders.
The 16 or so men left split up into four smaller groups to guard the cages. As they took their spots, many of them kept casting envious gazes at the others enjoying themselves. For the rest of the day, those keeping watch mumbled amongst themselves. Even though I tried not to, I could still hear the group that was standing watch near my cage.
"Man, this sucks. Why are we the first watch?" one of them complained.
"I know. We're not going to get any time to relax. Plus, after this, we should be heading straight to the market to sell." Another chimed in.
[Shit. So, we're almost to our final destination. If we don't escape soon, then even if that Stranger doesn't buy me here, I'll still be sold soon.]
While I was worrying about what to do, a commotion broke out from one of the other groups, and yelling filled the air, along with the panicked cries of the kids. Everyone looked over to where the noises were coming from.
At the first cart, one of the slavers had opened the cage door to give the kids in there the food for the day. A small Cat Beastkin boy had taken that chance to try and escape. Unfortunately, he didn't make it far before one of the other men outside the cage easily caught him. The man in the cage swaggered out of the cage, not even bothering to close it, and walked over to his fellow slaver and the boy. When he got in front of them, he sneered at the boy and roughly grabbed the kid. He then threw the boy to the ground and, in one smooth motion, took out the whip at his side and began to whip the boy. The look in the man's eyes was full of scorn and contempt as he seemed to control his strength with each lash.
"Ah! S.. Stop. Please. Ah! I'm sorry!!" The boy begged in between yelps of pain.
The boy was writhing on the ground, attempting to evade the lashes but having nowhere to go. The slaver continued to whip him, ignoring the pitiful cries. Each lash that landed on the boy's body at first caused only light red marks. However, as the whip continued to hit some places over and over, the light red marks began to get darker and swell slightly before finally splitting open. Blood began to drip off the open wound of the boy and stain the whip. Crisscross tears started to fill the boy's skin until there seemed to be no intact piece left.
Gripping the bars of the cage I was in, I stared at this scene, shocked. After another two lashes, I couldn't help looking around at the other slavers, hoping one of them would step forward and stop their fellow comrade from continuing. However, they all just kept looking on, including those who weren't part of the slavers. As my eyes roamed over to those in the bar area, I couldn't help but stop and stare at the slave leader.
He was sitting in a seat closest to the courtyard. I watched as he leisurely lifted a mug and took a drink, cold eyes never leaving the scene playing out in front of him. As he finished drinking, he put down the mug and he smiled a cold smile. Maybe my stare was too strong, as the leader turned his eyes away from the beating and met mine. Staring into his eyes, my breath hitched as I saw the coldness and the hint of warning in them. It was then that I realized they were using this incident as a warning to the others.
He didn't stare at me long before he returned his attention to the boy and slaver. When he looked away from my body, which had unknowingly tensed, relaxed, and I almost sat down due to my legs going soft. Tightening my grip on the bars to keep myself standing, I also turned my attention back.
The boy on the ground had stopped making noise. His body was loosely curled up, with open lash wounds covering him. The blood from the wounds had started to drip onto the ground. I was barely able to discern if he was breathing or not. Finally, one of the slavers to the side called out to the one whipping the kid.
"Ok, that's enough, Enki. If you kill him so quickly, it won't be that good of a warning."
Enki stopped, his breathing ragged after the whipping he had just completed, and then smirked. Enki straightened up and leered down at the barely alive boy, as though inspecting a work of art that he just finished creating, his smirk turning into a satisfied smile.
[I think I'm going to be sick]
The man who called out got up and went over to the boy on the ground. After making sure he was still alive, he roughly grabbed one of the boy's arms and dragged him over to the first cart with Enki following behind. When they reached the cart, the man who was dragging the boy lifted him while Enki grabbed some rope and tied him to the side of the cart, dangling him. After they were done, Enki walked back to the door of the cage. The children inside cried out in fear, scurrying far away from both the door and the side of the cage where the boy was strung up. They huddled in the far corner, shivering. With a short laugh, Enki slammed the cage door shut, eliciting another cry from the kids before locking it.
My eyes felt hot as many emotions swirled inside me. Grief at the kids' beating, despair at how useless I am currently, and anger at the men who did this horrendous act. I stared at Enki, burning his image into my mind before looking at the slave leader and doing the same.
After all the excitement calmed down, the slavers returned to what they had been doing before, acting as though what had just happened was an everyday occurrence. A hand gently touched my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked at the hand on me, then followed it to the gentle face with the bright halo.
"There's nothing we can do," Syfin said, noticing my turbulent emotions.
Staring at him for a little, I noticed that the lights around him were flying around him in a disordered manner, unlike their usual calm appearance. Surprised, I realized that he wasn't as calm as he was acting and that he was probably just as shaken up as the rest of us. I eventually nodded my head in agreement and slowly loosened my death grip on the bars. Shakily, I sat down with my back to the bars, the slavers, and the quiet groans of the boy hanging on the first caged wagon. Syfin sat next to me, grabbed my hand, and began to gently pat it.
Even though I'd usually pull away when he tried to touch me, at the moment, the comfort he was providing was greatly appreciated, and I figured that this was also a way for him to calm himself down. I soon found myself curled into a ball with my knees to my chest, a slight shiver running through my body as I did my best to ignore the noise from those around me. The images that I had just seen played through my head over and over, and I realized, for the hundredth time, that I still thought too lightly about this world. It wasn't the same as my last world, where such a thing barely, if ever, happened. This world wasn't a fantasy world filled with magic, rainbows, and glitter. It was cruel and lawless, and if I survived this, I couldn't behave like I used to anymore.