City Groves

“The planet of Earth, once located in the Milky Way galaxy, was seen inhabitable by year 4000. Destruction of nature was imminent after the parasites dug deep within the world. Global warming burned the ecosystems across the lands, shifted the shores, and melted all glaciers. All which caused the ever shrinking amount of freshwater and the lives of animals to be reaped to the point of extinction. 

Humanity crumbled quickly as the everyday became chaos. Plagues swept across the world as minds became poisoned with sin. The sense of normalcy faded away, leaving the irrational to become the new truth. 

The global powers of Earth found it necessary to create some form of a solution to the looming apocalypse, but with their minds corrupted, their concepts only lead to more infighting and inflictions of war grew on the bleeding horizon.” 

“The loud sound of the stallions’ hooves hitting the frosted ground and the rattling of the carriage they sat in was all Samson could hear. A rhythm which matched that of his heartbeat. A soft patter of snow followed each breath, hitting the roof quietly. 

Even with wearing gloves, the tips of his fingers were freezing in the mild draft of the winter air seeping through the cracks of the wood. The small amount of makeshift insulation from wool blankets and animal pelts only seemed to help so much with staying warm as dusk settled. 

Samson’s dark eyes glanced to the other man sitting across from him who looked equally as uncomfortable. Small puffs of visible air slowly exhaled from his mouth. His pulled his own blanket up to his pale lips, trying to create more heat.”

“The lyko looked up at the bright moon, feeling the energy of it radiating into his dark, coal eyes. They slowly moved to the silhouette of the large, black, jagged castle that was just barely visible in the thin fog that brewed above the deep green pine trees.

A faint frost crunched under his leather boots which caused him to turn, seeing his companion out of breath, slowly catching up to the boy. An older man stepped from the shadows with a faint smile on his face. The man took a deep breath and scratched his peppered beard with his thin, wooden wand, “Isn’t it magnificent, Lupa?” He asked, gazing up at the castle in the distance. “This is your next step, are you ready to see what lies ahead?” 

“I don’t know why I have to be here, Warros. The northern and southern lykos have not gotten along for centuries.” The lyko answered, his heart began to race. He trusted the wizard Warros more than those in Bloodedge. A warmth he didn’t want to leave, not to join a different world. Lupa knew it was not his home, that he would never be home again. 

“I have spoken with them, they are here to embrace you with open arms. It’s best for you to be with your people, they will care for you in ways that we cannot. You can find new things to learn here, similar to that of your own pack.” Pain seeped into his chest at the thought of it all. He knew things wouldn’t be the same, it was prevalent every moment but moving even further away seemed even more heart wrenching. The last full connection to the culture, heritage, and home he had left behind.” 

“The sensation of burning flames inside his throat stung him awake. Pain crawled down the body like magma. As the man’s senses awoke, everything was shrouded in darkness. 

His dry, cracked hands slowly moved up towards the main location of the searing agony, only to find that something was piercing inside of his neck.

Panic sept through his being as tears began to quietly fall down his already wet cheeks. His hands moved along a cold metal. A sharpness stung him causing small, needle-like incisions into the pads of his fingers. He closed his fists together hoping to stop the pain but the friction of the embedded spikes ripped up the skin of his palms. The feeling of peeling flesh made him gag up a vicious, salty liquid. As he regrettably swallowed it, acid bled across his chest and stomach. Disgust clamored for relief. 

The man tried to scream, for any sound to leave his agape mouth, but the voice following was nonexistent. His vocal chords were damaged by whatever was protruding out of his neck. His jaw became slack at the revelation.

As his thoughts swam through the deep waters, fear dragged him down, sinking. The man realized his memory was a void of disillusioned oblivion. No knowledge of who he was, how he got there, or anything before the moment he had just woken up to. A hole that felt as hopeless as his horrific, newfound situation.

An abyss he had fallen down into, clammed onto his body and crushed him in its grasp with the weight of an industrial compactor.

Agony was the only thing left.

By all odds, he should be dead. His heart fell down a jagged cliffside, filling any gaps of hope with boulders. 

The darkness around the man quickly formed into monsters and men surrounding him. Faint, phantom senses began to lurk on his skin, as though bugs were leeching onto his flesh. He wanted to see more, to have any form of comfort in a light source however horrific it was on the other side. 

The man’s cold, mutilated hands began to slither across the molds of his face, from his cracked, open lips, towards the bridge of a crooked nose. His morbid curiosity led him to inspect further for any potential damage done to his body.

Across the hill of his cheekbones, he dipped his fingers into the small crevice where his eyes were meant to sit, only to feel a wet cave of blood.

The man pushed further, hoping the substance trickled from somewhere else, but he was met by more emptiness. That was until he hit something delicately with his shaking finger, a squishy sensation coming from his internal body instead of the soft hardness of an eyeball. 

They were gone.

A piece of him so integral to his being had been stolen away, a mute sob escaped his mouth. He wished for the nightmare to end, to wake up in a soft bed, for someone to save him, cut him loose, and be able to run free.

He gained an ember of courage, finally trying to move, but it only led to more pain being shoved through him. As though a bear trap clamped on every inch of his body, either snapped or waiting to.  

The man was naked, stripped of dignity. There were no remnants of cloth that he found as his fragile fingers trailed down his bare skin to his legs which felt as though they were stitched together. 

There was a hesitation to touch them for fear of something else attacking him. A few slight pokes revealed that they were wrapped up in a coiled, metal rope, with thick daggers sticking in and out of its thread.

Barbed wire.

He dug underneath his legs to feel a thinner, less abrasive chain attaching his legs together. Cuffs clasped around his ankles, the metal binds only inches apart, restricting any movement even if he got the barbed wire off. A cruel joke.

Torture was the only way to describe his situation. Pure deprivation of any hope or comfort. The torment of endless pain with no way out.

He wanted to plead to whatever being or god was out there who would listen, but alas the idea was impossible due to his newfound condition.

A drifting quiet was quickly becoming more painful and excruciating than any possible noise could be. His ears would perk up thinking there was a noise of voice had been heard but it was over as soon as it began. The validity of the sound was unknown, it could all be an illusion. 

The man’s thoughts tunneled down to a faded wave of radio static. 

His body ached like nothing else; he wanted to lay down, to move position, do anything, but it was nearly impossible without hurting himself more. His muscles hurt trying to stay still. He wanted it to end, seconds felt like hours and anything to make the pain go away would be bliss. 

The way his body had been morphed and contoured was completely unpredictable. A feat of Lucifer was the only thing on his mind, a production of a hellscape made just for him. One that would make him a monster of broken flesh and rivers of blood.”