Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 141
141
Layla ran full tilt into what felt like a fuzzy brick wall, hard enough to rebound and land on her tail with a painful thump. She looked up at the creature looming over her, feeling smaller than small, feeling like a mouse caught between the claws of a mountain lion.
He was a mean-looking thing with a sharp nose and squinty eyes. His fur might once have been a creamy colour, but all the smoke and ash had turned it a streaky grey. He looked down at her, a crooked half-smile spreading across his face, and smacked his lips together. "Well, well, looks like we got ourselves a generous helping of smoked vixen, boys! Medium rare!"
His buddies chortled in a way that made Layla's skin crawl. There was something almost lecherous about it.
I've gotta get out of here... That was the only thought racing through her mind as she twisted around and took off at a sprint. Not that she needed to get away from them, but that she needed to get them away from Tio. She didn't know what they would do to her, but she did know what they would do to any Wolves deemed 'different', and as much as she wanted to tell herself that even the most feral Wolf would never hurt a child, that was something she simply did not believe. She had seen too much already. That's why she had to run. She had to lure them away. She had to -
She made it a grand total of three running strides before the squinty Wolf casually reached out and grabbed her with one long, sinewy arm, completely braceleting her wrist with a set of strong, bony fingers.
Layla cried out as all her momentum stopped dead and she was forcefully jerked back. She tried to maintain her balance, but was moving far too fast and ploughed, face first, into the dirt amidst wild gales of laughter.
"Whoopsy!" one of the Wolves derided, slapping his knee.
"Just look at her back!" another added. This was followed by a long, drawn out whistle, as if in admiration. "Did the whole damn tree fall on her, you think?"
"Must be in shock, poor thing."
Layla pushed herself off the ground with trembling arms, her ears ringing. There was a painfully raw scrape underneath her chin, slowly dripping blood, and this elicited even more laughter from the Wolves, who had crowded around her like a gang of bullies on a playground, standing almost shoulder to shoulder, blocking off any hope of escape.
"Not so tough up close, are they?" one of them remarked.
"Nah, without the wall they're just a bunch of ants."
Layla's mind was going a mile a minute, but not actually doing anything useful. It was all just a useless array of flashing images, most of them involving herself in various states of torture, mutilation, and even death, ranging from disembowelment to decapitation.
"Hey, Foxy, what's your name?" One of them reached out with claws saturated in drying blood, his eyes practically overflowing with gleeful malice. Too scared to answer or even stand up, Layla flinched back and fell on her tail again, much to the amusement of her captors, but she was way beyond caring at this point. She scurried backwards for all she was worth, pushing out with her legs and propelling herself back with her hands, undoubtedly looking just like the ant they had compared her to mere moments ago. She kept going like that until she struck something solid and looked up. It was another Wolf, smiling down at her despite the ring of bloody teeth marks around his muzzle.
"Hey, darling, where do you think you're going?"
Before she could react, before she even knew there was anything to react to, he drew back his arm and slapped her full on the back. The pain that flared up inside of her was so bad she couldn't even scream. All she could do was arc her back and writhe on the ground like a dying fish, gasping for air. Fresh rivulets of blood dribbled down her spine, frightfully hot, sticking her dress to her body.
"Ouch. Well that's just mean, Graiyu."
"What's mean is what they did to my family."
Layla lifted her face off the ground, and through the gaps between their legs, staring out at her from beyond the smoking ribs of the dead tree, as if caught in a cage, was little Tio. His face was completely frozen in a look of abject terror. The only movement she could see at all were the tears flowing down his cheeks, and his tiny hands wrapped around the branches in a death grip, shaking uncontrollably. The flames were still growing at his back, shooting tongues of flame into the air. Backlit by such a harsh light, with smoke curling around his face in wispy tendrils, he looked so small. So very, very small...
A shadow fell over her, and the next moment something hard and heavy pressed down on the small of her back, slowly increasing the pressure as if to squeeze every last drop of blood out of her like the juice from an orange, and this time Layla couldn't help but scream. She screamed until her throat was sore, but the pressure remained, grinding back and forth, and it was with absolute horror and revulsion that she realised one of them must be stepping on her like a doormat, grinding his heel into the small of her back for no other reason than to make her feel as much pain as possible. It was something that made so little sense she wouldn't have been able to understand it at all, had it not been for Tio's words.
Like eye for an eye?
Pain for pain.
A hand wound its way into her hair and pulled back with rough indifference, forcing her head up. But he didn't stop there. He kept pulling and pulling, making her arc her back, making her look almost straight up to the sky. She screamed as the pain in her back intensified, turning into white hot lines of pure agony.
"How's that feel, bitch?" The Wolf asked, yanking on her hair and wrenching her head from side to side. "That hurt? Huh?"
The pain was so bad, Layla began to wonder if he would just keep pulling and pulling until her spine finally snapped under the pressure, leaving her to die a slow and painful death, folded back upon herself.
"He asked you a question, bitch!" One of the hitherto quiet ones, a stocky Wolf with tawny fur, bent down and slapped her in the face. The impact was vicious enough to leave an imprint of warmth against her cheek in the shape of his hand, right down to the four, sharp pricks of pain that were his claws. Layla didn't want to, but she burst into tears after that. She just couldn't help it.
"If you don't want another slap, you better answer!"
"Yes!" she wailed, hitching for breath between terrified sobs. "Yes, it hurts! Are you happy now!?"
Evidently not. The Wolf behind her pulled her face back even further, and the tawny one raised his hand for another blow, but this time he curled his fingers into a fist.
Layla shut her eyes - it was all she could think of to do - and the next moment a flash of pain exploded all over the left side of her face, mashing her lips against her teeth and wrenching her head to the side. The blow was so hard that her hair actually ripped free of the first Wolf's grip and she slammed into the ground yet again. Immediately, she began to feel that odd, tingly warmth in her cheek indicative of rapid swelling.
Layla opened her eyes and, sure enough, the left side of her vision had a weird, lopsided dent in it now, as if she had stuffed a whole apple into her cheek on a dare. She could taste blood on her tongue.
"No, I am not happy!" the tawny Wolf screamed into her face, showering her with spittle, but Layla was barely listening.
Why...? Why is he still there...?
Tio hadn't moved at all. By now he could have easily snuck towards the roots of the tree and escaped, but he was still there, still as a statue. By the gods, what if they see him? What if they smell him? What if they -
Another Wolf charged in with a furious roar and kicked her underneath the chin. Her teeth came together with a muffled click, and if she had been talking in that moment, she very likely would have lost the tip of the tongue. But as she was, Layla barely felt it at all. It was as if everything from the point of impact to the moment she struck the ground for the third time simply didn't exist. One moment she glimpsed the foot come in, and the next she was back down on the ground, her swollen cheek plastered to the ground in a small puddle of blood.
"Ah..." It was all she could say as she lifted her face, watching in amazement as bloody pine needles peeled off her cheek and dropped down to the ground below, which was filling up with spots of red before her very eyes, appearing out of thin air as if by magic.
Are they going to kill me? she wondered_. Are they going to hit me until I just... stop living? Is that even possible? Is this..._
Is this really happening to me?
Layla didn't see what happened next. She didn't know if it was a foot or a fist or even a club. All she heard was a furious roar, followed by the dull thwack of something heavy striking her in the head.
Everything shuddered, then swayed, and suddenly she had a worm's eye view of the world again, looking at all the legs crowding around her, and even worse, everything happening beyond those legs, the world outside this little circle, seen through a shifting veil of blood and dizziness.
Shapes, running away. Screaming. She knew those shapes. She had known them her whole life. Friends. Neighbours. They were... what was happening to them? What was going on?
Layla blinked.
It was Frederick and Phillip, from just down the road, the ones who would always bicker and argue over the stupidest little things from opposite sides of their garden fence, but would always stop to tip their hats whenever she or her sister came walking by.
Layla blinked again, certain that she must be seeing things, certain that this... this horror couldn't actually be real, that it must be some kind of hallucination brought on by a concussion.
Phillip was down on the ground, screaming his head off, and the reason for that was because his leg was inside a Wolf's mouth almost all the way up to the calf.
Frederick had grabbed him by the hands and was trying to pull him free, but it was no use. The Wolf was down on all fours, shaking his head from side to side like an animal. Blood poured down his face and neck, making it look like he was wearing a crimson bib.
Layla blinked again, willing this vision to evaporate, but nothing worked. It was real, it was all real, and it was happening right now.
The Wolf wrenched Phillip's leg to the side with a horrific crack, not that dissimilar to the sounds the trees made right before they fell. He screamed, his eyes bugging right out of his sockets as the bottom quarter of his leg flopped and flailed from the corner of the Wolf's mouth, spouting blood in a high pressure jet.
Layla started to get up again. It was in her nature to go to those who needed help. In her muddled state of mind, she was already trying to think of something they could use as a temporary splint. A branch might be too crooked, but maybe they could use a support post from one of the tents...
Another shadow fell over her, followed immediately after by another burst of pain. White light shot through her eyes, laced with veins of red. She fell onto her back, which hurt even more, like dozens of burning nails being dragged through her flesh. She gasped for air and rolled onto her stomach, blinking the blood out of her eyes. There were voices above her somewhere, talking down at her, throwing words at her like wasp stings, but she couldn't understand what they meant, only that they hurt, that everything hurt, and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.
More shapes, tinted red. A slew of bodies on the ground. Blood seeping into the earth. Flames, shining brightly in the pitch black sky, reflected as dull, rusty blades within their depths.
"Wake up! Wake up, damn you! For the love of all the gods wake up!"
A vixen was down on her knees, lightly slapping one of the bodies on the cheek. Layla blinked, but couldn't bring her into focus. She was just a blurry shape in a blue dress, trying to look everywhere at once as more shapes flitted by in the background; blacks and browns and greys... all of them tinted red...
She looked up sharply and began to scream, but it was already too late to do anything. Before she could even get to her feet, a Wolf barrelled into her from the side, knocking her down.
"No! No, get off me! Get off me!"
Layla began to push herself off the ground yet again. The voices sounded angry, but... she had to... She...
Someone grabbed the back of her head and slammed her face down into the ground. Sharp pebbles and twigs ground their way into her swollen flesh. Layla tried to scream in pain, but every breath felt like it was more blood than air, and all she could do was cough a bitter splatter of red droplets onto the carpet of dead leaves and pine needles beneath her face.
Feet. Large, bare feet. Toes tipped with pitch black claws. They rose and fell as her captors circled around her prone body like buzzards picking over a juicy carcass. Slabs of meat rising out of her field of vision, then slamming down again.
There was a Wolf beyond this circle, far away. A Wolf with long, shaggy fur. He was down on the ground, just like she was, trying to crawl towards some unknown goal, leaving broad streaks of blood in his wake.
Was he a nice Wolf? Was he mean? Layla didn't know. The only thing she did know with any certainty was that he was in pain. All of them were.
A face dropped down before her eyes, appearing almost upside down from this low angle. It was the streaky Wolf with the sharp nose and squinty eyes, screaming something... Some... question?
"... you do it? No? I didn't think so!"
What?
He struck her high on the temple, and Layla crashed down amidst the low sound of laughter, muffled by the blood in her ears.
Her left eye was swollen almost completely shut by now. That entire half of her face was just a throbbing ball of agony almost bad enough to make her forget about her back. A hot line of tears (Or was that blood? Layla wasn't entirely sure.) flowed down her cheek, stinging the whole way down and fragmenting her vision into useless shards of colour and shadow, colour that looked almost like... a face...
It was Tio. He was right up against the very edge of the greenery, sticking out like a sore thumb. If anyone looked in his direction right now...
Tio, no...
She tried to warn him, but the moment she opened her mouth, a stream of blood dribbled over her bottom lip and pooled beneath her chin, something that only seemed to upset him even more. His whole face scrunched up in an amalgamation of misery and anger, his tiny fangs sticking out from underneath his trembling lips. His hands worked the branches back and forth, grinding the bark into an ashy powder between his palms. He leaned forward, thought better of it, crouched down, then rose up again, fidgeting in place. He was like a tiny animal about to pounce. A tiny animal with no idea what he was about to pounce into...
It took an immense amount of effort for something so small, but somehow, Layla was able to lift her face just enough for her to be able to shake her head.
No.
Tio froze, caught in some terrible limbo between his overwhelming desire to help, and his fundamental uselessness, something even he must be aware of.
He was just a kid. A kid who should never have been brought here in the first place. A kid who couldn't possibly do anything to help anyone. Not in any way that truly mattered...
Who are you talking about? A dim voice spoke up in her mind. Tio, or...?
She was never able to finish that thought. A strong hand grabbed her by the hair, lifted her face off the ground...
Things became very difficult after that. Difficult to understand. There were no sounds, save for the distant, almost hollow thud of fists striking flesh. There was no sight, no colour, no light, no shadow. She didn't know if it was because both eyes were swollen shut, or if she was holding them shut unconsciously so she wouldn't have to see what was happening to her. All she knew was that it was dark, and that the darkness was almost surely the best thing she could hope for right now. A deep, empty darkness she could just sink into, where she wouldn't have to feel so much pain.
But that never happened. She stayed awake the entire time, and she felt every blow, every punch, every kick, every hateful slap.
A blow came in from the side, flooding her mouth with the bitter, metallic taste of blood. The next one broke her jawbone. She actually heard it inside her skull - a muffled crack, like a twig snapping underwater.
She felt her face scraping against the ground. Felt rough hands tearing at her wounds, forcing them wider. Felt the blood pooling in the small of her back.
There were sounds. Far away. Screams. Shouts. Muted whispers that could have been roars of fury or just the wind blowing over her bleeding ears. Voices... broken... jumbled... nonsensical...
"Pass her over here! I want to -"
Kill me? Are they actually killing me?
"Hurry up! I want to find -"
Kiana? Kiana, where are you? Oh, gods... It hurts...
"By the Cora, is she still -"
Dan? Dan! Please... I need you!
"Good. I prefer it if they-"
Mother? Father? Are you there? I can't see...
"I wonder how long she can -"
Where are you? Please!
"Enough! Just kill her and get it over with!"
I don't want to die... not like this... please, gods... not like this...
Layla struggled to open her eyes. All the blood had formed a sticky layer over her eyelids, but eventually the light of the real world began to filter through once again. The left side of her vision was covered in a reddish filter, as if she were peeking through one of the chapel's coloured windows.
She saw her own hand, lying on a carpet of dry pine needles like a dead spider, covered in blood. She tried to move, but could only make the fingers twitch feebly.
"Give that here."
"Why do you get to finish her?"
"Because I said so! Now give it to me!"
"Urgh, fine!"
It felt like her head weighed a thousand pounds, but somehow Layla managed to look up. The streaky Wolf with the ratty eyes was looking down at her, casually bouncing a rock in the palm of his hand. Just tossing it up and catching it again, something she must have done herself on thousands of occasions, running errands for Mother, or leaning against a fencepost, or just walking down the road on the way to the market on a boring summer afternoon, whistling a random tune. Squinty didn't look bored, though. He looked furious.
"This was supposed to be a very special night for us," he said, crouching down on his haunches. "A lot of promises were made. A lot of fancy words got thrown around, but they all basically came down to one thing. Follow, and all your dreams can finally come true. Pass through the mouth of the mountain, and you can finally have your fill. Fight and fight and fight to your heart's content. Kill, murder, eat, and you can finally, finally feel alive. But that's not what happened, is it? We didn't find life over here. We found something else."
Layla's eyes were fixed on the rock in his hand, still bouncing up and down in the flickering firelight. Every bump, every crack, every jagged ridge stood out in stark contrast against the dark grey surface, highlighted by streaks of shadow.
Up, and down. Up... and down. Turning a little with every bounce, whispering against his palm. A rock the size of his fist. A rock the size of her face.
A rock the size of the remainder of her life.
"No, we didn't find life here," he said, raising it above his head, looking like a farmhand about to hammer a stubborn post into the ground. "Only death."
Only death...
"Layla-Kai!"
Tio shoved his way into the circle and dove into Layla's arms, crying and screaming. "Stop it! Stop hurting Layla-Kai!"
"What the hell, kid!?"
Layla was only aware of what was happening in broken fragments. Disjointed pieces of sensory input, held together by the thinnest of strings. She knew there was someone touching her. Someone warm... and soft... She could feel his hands, small hands... clutching at her, trying to pull her up, and she knew instinctively that he needed her just as much as she needed him. Perhaps even more so.
"What the hell is he doing!?"
"Layla-Kai! Layla-Kai, please please wake up! Layla-Kai!"
"Did he just call her 'Kai'?"
"Oh, I see. He's one of them. Just another backroller."
"Layla-Kai!"
He managed to push her up into a sitting position, straining with all his might, and Layla blinked her bleary eyes, trying desperately to bring him back into focus.
"Tio?"
"Layla-Kai!" Little Tio threw himself into her arms in what had to be the most exuberant hug of her life, clutching at her clothes and crying into her chest. And although it hurt, she was happy to hug him back, lightly running her hand along the back of his head.
"You little idiot..." she whispered. Her voice came out sounding like a drunken slur. "You should have run..."
"Nuh-uh!" Tio said, shaking his head and smearing his tears all over her dress. "They were hurting you, Layla-Kai! They were hurting you! I couldn't!"
The rock slipped out of the ratty Wolf's hand, who had a look on his face as if he had just stepped into something revoltingly foul. Bird droppings, perhaps. Or a rotting, flyblown squirrel carcass.
"You little... backrolling... brat!" he said, every syllable trembling with anger. He reached for the scruff of Tio's neck, his fingers curled into hooks and his claws gleaming in the dark, and Layla reacted before she even knew she intended to. If pressed, she would have said she didn't think she was physically capable of doing anything, but her body just moved on its own, slapping his hand away on nothing but pure instinct.
"Oww! You bitch!" he said, holding his hand up to his face to inspect the shallow scratch marks that had appeared there. "You unbelievable bi-"
The rest of that insult was buried beneath the low growl emanating from deep inside her throat. A primal, animalistic sound. She could feel it boiling up inside of her, something she never knew she had. She hugged Tio close, and in a broken, guttural voice, a voice that didn't belong to her at all, she said: "If any of you touch even a single hair on his head, I swear I will rip your intestines out with my bare teeth."
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