When Elves Die : Episode One (5 page)

CHAPTER 8
The creaking sound of Bavrry's jail cell door jolted him awake. He rubbed his eyes and stared in disbelief at his good fortune.
He got up and pushed the door further ajar. Peeking out, he saw no one around.
Walking over to Thodak's cell, he unhinged the lock and opened the door.
“
Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Bavrry whispered.
Thodak rolled over and sneezed out a nose full of snot.
“
Shhh...” Bavrry put a finger to his lips and motioned for the sleepy-headed Thodak to follow him.
The two old thieves moved silently down the hall, like foxes in a chicken coop.
“
We can sneak past Snearos,” Bavrry said. “Or you can distract him and I will run out.”
“
No, how about you distract him and I run out?”
They peeked around a corner at the front door. Expecting to see an elven sentry guarding the post, they saw no one.
“
This has to be trap,” Thodak said.
“
Or a dream.”
“
Look!” Thodak pointed at a smearing of blood on the ground. They followed the crimson trail which got thicker as they went along.
Turning the corner, they saw the body of Snearos in a pool of blood. His limbs lay at grotesque angles, as though every bone had been snapped.
“
Look out!” Thodak said as a Killtooth dropped down from the ceiling.
The vampire caught Bavrry by the collar and pulled him close. He bit down hard on the thief's jugular, squirting his blood onto Thodak. The elf writhed around like a loosely strung puppet as the Killtooth sucked on his neck.
Running for his life, Thodak made it to the front door. He opened it to reveal a horde of Killtooths who greeted him with hungry smiles.
They leapt onto him, fighting for a piece of his flesh.
Thodak felt their fangs spear into his body. His screams filled the air as the demons sunk their sharp teeth into his throat, legs and genitals.
“
Gates of hell!” one of the cellmates yelled.
The sound of Thodak's screaming had awakened all of the prisoners. Most were gripping the bars of their cells, trying in vain to poke their heads through.
The Killtooths opened  the prisoner doors at random and attacked each elf one by one. One prisoner tried hiding under his bed.
The blue scaled bodies of the vampires soon covered his entire cell.
His screams shook the walls.
Bharxen had vowed he would never go to jail again. A young elf who failed in his first try at thievery, he had served his time and would be released in the morning.
Would it be one day too late?
The Killtooths came to his cell with their bellies full. Slow to open Bharxen's door, they left too large of an opening and the young thief jumped between them.
Bharxen's nimble feet sprinted past the clutches of two other pairs of vampires. He raced down the corridor, jumping over dead prisoners and sloshing through their puddles of blood.
He turned a corner and raced for the front door when he saw  Tholan blocking his path.
“
Run!” Bharxen said. “The Killtooths are devouring everyone.”
The barbarian drew his sword and decapitated the young thief.
Killtooths in pursuit of the young man quickly lapped up the blood pooling from his headless torso.
Tholan grew hungry at the sight of the Killtooths feeding. He made his way down to the basement of the prison looking for the pantry.
Waving aside cobwebs, he found an old elf seated at a kitchen table lit by a fading candlelight. At least a hundred years old, the old elf slurped from a bowl of tomato soup.
“
My name is Norril,” he said. “But I know you don't care.”
Tholan reached for his sword.
The old elf moved his face closer to the flame. Small tufts of white hair covered a scarred head.  His eyes were a milky blue.
“
I'm blind as a bat,” Norril said. “They kept me down here because they ran out of jail cells. I'm not the threat I was when I was your age.”
Blindness aside, Tholan felt the old elf''s eyes scan over him with scorn.
“
You are a hired assassin, right?”
The barbarian said nothing.
“
How did I know that?” he said with a smug, toothless smile. “You never know when your last meal is going to be. I'm glad I get to know. I learned to be thankful for the little things.”
Norrill scooped and swallowed the last of his soup with a relish.
“
I was like you once,” the elf said. “A long time ago...”
Tholan took out his sword.
“
That blade doesn't make you dangerous. Hell, my farts are more dangerous than you.”
The barbarian grabbed the elf's bowl and threw it against the wall.
“
Yeah. Yeah,” Norril mocked. “I can smell the evil on your breath. I was the same way. I poked out my own eyes because I did not want to see the horrors I had done. But memories are always in the mind, aren't they? That is where you relive the horror. In the mind.”
“
You're nothing like me, old fool.”
“
Maybe you're right,” Norril's blind eyes locked onto the barbarian. “When I was your age, I was slaying dragons and screwing five princesses a night!”
The old elf cackled with glee.
The barbarian raised his blade.
“
Go ahead, kill me. But you're the one that is afraid. I was never more afraid to die than when I was killing. That power that you get only lasts for so long. Then you need it again. And again. And again. But in the back of your mind you know that one day it will be you on the other end of that blade-”
Tholan brought his sword across Norril's neck.
The old elf's head rolled onto the floor. His blind eyes dimmed.
The Dark Queen walked into the prison snarling like a thunder cloud.
“
We saved this one for you,” one of the Killtooths said.
They held the young elf down by his arms. His legs flailed and kicked at the approaching Dark Queen.
“
Let him go,” she said.
The Killtooths released the elf and he ran toward the open front door. The Dark Queen waved her hand and it slammed shut in his face.
The elf pulled at the doorknob with all his might.
“
No use,” Ravalynn said, slowly walking over. She grabbed the elf and exposed his neck with a practiced ease. “Nothing seals a door tighter than black magic.”
Blood gushed as her sharp fangs cut through his carotid artery. The elf's mouth gaped in a silent cry and terror filled his eyes. The Dark Queen drank directly from his heart but then dropped the elf's body to the ground in disgust.
“
Spoiled blood!”
She spat down on the dead prisoner. She did not want the bitter tasting blood of the elven criminals. She wanted the pure and sweet blood of the missionaries.
“
Kill! Kill! Kill!” The Dark Queen  marched through the halls, her Killtooths attacking the last of the prisoners. “Leave no throat unmarked!”
“
This is too easy,” Tholan said as he watched Ravalynn wipe her mouth.
The Dark Queen motioned for the barbarian to follow her outside of the prison. They walked about a quarter of a mile before they reached a cliff.
The castle of Wandacove could be seen in the distance. Ravalynn stared at the castle for a few moments, contempt and fury etched into her face.
“
I will make the elves of Graceonna suffer like they never have and never will again. They will be a forgotten people. They will cry out to their God as my creations devour them one and all. Carella will not even be a memory. She will be erased from the earth as if she didn't exist.”
Tholan smelled the myrrh and incense that radiated from The Dark Queen's body. He became excited by the shine of fresh blood on her lips and  the animalistic intensity of her eyes.
“
I will enslave and devour them.  I will cast spells that will make them turn against one another.  They will lose all hope. And their blood will taste so sweet.”
The Dark Queen's fangs glistened in the moonlight like pearls on alabaster.

CHAPTER 9

Descending the hill, Kelroar could make out the
remnants of the camp. There were numerous dead bodies strewn across
the ground. Crows picked at the eyes of the dead. A group of orcs
scavenged through the belongings of the elves before tearing at
their flesh with jagged teeth.

Kelroar ran back up the ridge. He reached the wagon
and shook the guardrails hard, awakening Xavian.

"I need you to stand guard here."

"Why?"

"Just do what I say. If you see anyone but me come
out from beyond that ridge, you snap the reins and get the hell out
of here as fast as you can. You got it?”

"Okay," Xavian said.

"What's going on?" Zinna asked, coming in from the
field with Jamben.

"Get back in the wagon," Kelroar said.

Kelroar stormed backed down the slope and headed
straight for the orcs. The one nearest to him had a large bald head
rimmed with hair around his ears. He gnawed away at the arm of an
elf. The sounds of the bones crunching deafened him to Kelroar's
stealthful steps.

But the beast did see the shadow of the barbarian's
sword rise above him.

Kelroar cut his victim's scream short with one slice
but it alerted the other orcs. One of them bolted straight toward
Kelroar. The barbarian pivoted around the charging beast and
dropped his blade down like a guillotine.

The orc's head rolled down the hill.

Kelroar rushed toward the other orcs. One of them
picked up a large stone and threw it with expert precision at the
barbarian's head.

The impact knocked Kelroar back on his heels. The
orc then charged in as Kelroar played possum. Wobbling as if his
equilibrium short-circuited, he waited until the orc came within
range and sliced down with his blade.

Another head rolled down the hill.

Witnessing the beheadings, the two remaining orcs
ran for their lives.

Kelroar gave chase. One of the orcs got winded after
a few yards. His fat belly shaking, he stopped and growled at the
barbarian. Morsels of elf meat spat out of his mouth.

Kelroar drew back his sword but the orc ducked and
rolled. The beast had a level of dexterity that the barbarian
didn't expect. He sprang up with a rock in his hand and smashed it
against Kelroar's head.

The barbarian went down in a heap. The orc leaped in
for the kill. Kelroar rolled out of the way then flipped to his
feet. He swung his blade back at the beast.

The orc ducked and tackled him down. Kelroar fell
hard on his back, losing the grip on his sword. The beast bit down
and chewed on Kelroar's shoulder.

The barbarian smacked the orc's head with his left
palm, knocking him to the side. Rolling over, he picked up his
sword and lunged at the fat beast.

The orc remained one step ahead of him. He slapped
Kelroar, the force of his blow staggering him backwards.

Kelroar sniffed and feinted another big swing of his
blade. The orc fell for it, ducking down and charging toward the
barbarian.

Kelroar twirled his wrist, bringing the sword all
the way around across the orc's neck.

Catching his breath, Kelroar's eyes darted around
the landscape, looking for the last remaining orc.

Zinna led the way as Xavian and Jamben jogged down
the ridge. The growls of the orcs had echoed throughout the valley.
Looking for Kelroar, they feared the worst.

The wild eyed orc came running toward them like a
crazed bull.

"Run!" Xavian screamed.

The boy reversed course and began sprinting for his
life. The orc bypassed both Jamben and Zinna as he gave chase.

Xavian looked over his shoulder and saw the orc
gaining on him. He pumped his legs as fast as he could, gaining
little traction on the soft sand.

Jamben joined the chase. His taut muscles rippling
as he took long strides, he gained on the pair as they neared a
clearing.

Xavian panted hard. He could hear the heavy
footsteps of the orc coming closer. Up ahead, he gasped as he
approached a cliff.

Coming to the jagged edge, he felt dizzy looking
down at the steep drop. Turning around, he screamed in terror as
the orc sprinted toward him with a threatening howl.

The jaws of Jamben caught the orc by the ankle.
Xavian jumped high as the two beasts rolled underneath him to the
edge of the cliff.

“Jamben!” Zinna yelled for her wolf.

The wolf stopped his roll short as he dug his paws
into the dirt. The orc continued to flip over, his momentum taking
him over the edge.

The shriek of the orc echoed throughout the canyon
until a sick thud cut it short.

"Hey!” Kelroar screamed “I told you guys to stay in
the wagon!”

“And miss all the fun?” Zinna said.

"Those dead elves," Xavian said pointing back toward
the ridge. "Who were they?"

"They are from Graceonna," said Kelroar, his face
solemn. “The missionaries.”

The trio looked through the charred remains of the
deceased. Most were eaten and burned beyond recognition.

Zinna noticed Jamben nuzzling one of the dead
bodies.

"His name was Trarry," she said, recognizing the
elf. "He was a good friend of my father."

"This boy's name was Yenward." Xavian knelt down,
closing the eyes of a dead boy. "We played gameball together. He
was a good elf."

"I don't see anyone resembling Carella," Kelroar
said as he surveyed the rest of the bodies. "So perhaps this is the
first group that went missing."

"Are we going to give them a proper burial?" Xavian
said. "If we don't, the orcs will come and eat them. The crows will
peck out their eyes. They are elves, like us. They deserve some
respect."