A hushed silence met his admission. None of them wanted to acknowledge what just happened. Their very existence and way of living did not allow for any blame to ever fall on them. It was always attributed towards the world being against them or someone else’s fault entirely. That was the basic tenant about being a narcissist.
They could be thrust face first into a situation which makes them experience the very same or similar degradation which they dished out to others on a silver platter, and yet not once, would their minds consider it as their just desserts or something that required a level of introspective accountability.
Finally, the single Traveler within the group who had not died from his wounds cried out. “That did not just happen!” “Nothing happened!!” He screamed even as he burned with agony at the multiple lacerations marring his body. Stemming from the fray of sexual desecration, all of the bloody claw wounds and lacerations on him as well as the others, had already begun to clot, and yet the acute pain still remained.
Jealousy at the brief reprieve the others received from their death and healed return, he began engaging in self-mutilation. “Damn you all!” He accused the others. “You at least got healed partway through!” Slamming himself repeatedly into the surrounding stalagmites with meaty thuds, and clawing at his own arms with abandon, he caused the many lacerations that had begun scabbing over to re-open and bleed anew.
Silence reined among the other three wolfen Travelers as they heard the antics of the fourth. Quietly they slunk away from his violent outburst, keeping as quiet as possible as if fearful that his actions would instigate the return of the bat-like horror while dragging them back into the fray. They did not want to be anywhere near here if such was a risk.
Despite their denial of what they had just experienced, they certainly did not want it to happen again!
The frequent meaty thuds echoing throughout the cavern began to falter and then weaken in tone. The negligible distance the others had managed to put between themselves and their self-destructing compatriot, was not enough to naturally weaken the sound waves they heard. Thus, the only rational conclusion was that his efforts were growing weaker and more infrequent. Eventually, the last of the thuds echoed out, followed by a long and still silence.
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A whisper finally sounded out among the other three. “Do you think he’s dead or just knocked himself out again?”
Another moment of silence prevailed before one voiced. “Someone needs to go check him out.”
The hesitancy that followed was palpable as no one wanted to be the one to investigate. Each of them began glaring at the others as if attempting to browbeat them into giving in.
None of them budged or gave in despite the pressing fears which came from inactivity and the looming unknown.
Finally, as if with a silent accord yet uncertain as to who made the first move, they jointly began easing their way over to where they had last seen their now silent comrade.
“Ugh!” They each flinched a little at witnessing the violent scene of self-affliction. Limited by the low output of the candlelight spell, numerous blood splatters shone with black relief against the creamy off-white of the calcium deposits, drawing up a startling difference between the effected and surrounding stalagmites.
The vibes coming off this tableau of desperation and mutilation would have disturbed even the most stalwart of homicide detectives.
However, amidst it all there was no body! Had he been dragged off by the creature to continue what it had started, or had he somehow managed to return to reality and escape this horror through suicide? In their panic, they had not recalled that the avatar body would stay for a time after death.
However, unbeknownst to them, this was a trick of the single divine hidden observer. . .
There was no drag trail which would have shown had the body been simply moved. Admittedly, if the beast had swooped in and flew away with the body, would they even know? The unknown fate of their partner in crime and war ate away at their psyche. One of them spit on the spot that their comrade had disappeared from as if to say good riddance. Then a single thought swept through their minds.
Suspicion and doubt reined dominant upon them as they had long since given up on trying to log out. After their many failed attempts at escaping this tragedy amidst their assault, including their involuntary resurrection, they had not even bothered to try again once it was over.
Almost simultaneously, they each turned their eyes up and to the left to trigger the routine log out function. This time, the red numbered countdown started and continued to descend. Each reduced number eliciting a surge of desperation and hope within them. They struggled to maintain composure among themselves as the number hit zero and a flash of white stole their vision. . .
They knew not that their homes would prove to be a poor refuge, as their many troubles had just begun.
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Remaining hidden amidst a fold in space, Inaaya had watched on as these four were abused in such terrible fashion. Had she not already been desensitized to the many tragedies which countless innocents, much less the deserving suffered from before, she might have flinched at the degradation these men underwent.
Then, seeing them huddling amidst the cavern floor and struggling to retain a stalwart appearance in their denial of reality, she released her hold on the log out function. Previously, she had denied them the sweet release of both death and escape as they suffered under the amorous attentions of the man-like bat creature.
Now that such was over, she no longer impeded their actions.
Watching on, she had hoped for some semblance of recognition or empathy for their past victims. She wanted something to show that they could be redeemed after having experienced a similar event as those they themselves had desecrated. However, as time passed, there had appeared no signs of remorse or inner reflection of their own perpetrated atrocities.
These men, who had just been desecrated in a horrendous fashion simply refused to acknowledge the events which transpired. Denial, anger, and accusations were all they had in a world of pain and anguish.
Empathy and compassion was entirely absent. . .
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In the nearby nameless village, many of the terrified inhabitants had dissolved into quivering heaps at hearing the chorused wails of the four Travelers. Never before had they witnessed such cries as they had that night. Prior to this and being resigned to their fate, most sacrifices would simply whimper in suppressed agony, only occasionally letting out a hiss and cry of pain, even as they died from trauma and blood loss.
Tonight however, something entirely new had been thrown into the mix. Amidst the wailing of men having their chrysanthemums torn, it was realized that the girls had been left entirely untouched. Terror had struck their hearts as they had feared they would be next. Yet, after the intermittent and prolonged vocal outburst in the distance, the remainder of the night remained eerily quiet.
As the light of morning touched upon the three girls’ shivering bodies, they near fainted in relief at the conclusion of a non-violent and successful night of purging.
Parents, friends, and neighbors rushed out to free them from their bonds. A myriad of emotions spread through the village populous at this new and surprising development. Amazement, relief, curiosity, and even envy, were predominantly felt and shown. The village headsman, however, was feeling something vastly different. Fear and desperation clouded his thoughts as he sought a way to justify and rectify this incident.
The old ways had been dealt a heavy blow and cracks were starting to show amidst the foundation. New ideas were taking root and the previously demoralized and subdued villagers had begun to feel doubt.
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Following that incident and the days following, the village leader spent a great effort in exhorting and giving repeated reminders of the good which their guardian spirit brought to their village. His greatest emphasis was upon how its very presence repelled the many surrounding beasts, dissuading them from invading and destroying their little piece of secluded paradise.
The majority of the villagers dutifully nodded as what their leader spoke of made rational sense. Too often, they had witnessed the restraining effects of their guardian spirit. Additionally, having already survived the coming-of-age ceremony and with many years of repeated sacrifices to numb them to the plight of the younger generation, most were more than fine with returning to the long-established order.
The very next month however, on the day of the next appointed sacrifice, a small group of enterprising teenage boys and girls embarked on the final stages of a crazy plan which had sprouted from that single unique incident. A spark of insight which refused to go out had been born even as the light of the rising sun fell on the tear-streaked faces of the untouched prior trio. It continued to burn within them despite the redoubled urgings of their village leader.
All throughout that month, with the secretive aid of a few more experienced and open-minded adults, they had begun hunting the monsters on their periphery with far more intensity than before. Additionally, they began to adopt different methods of subjugation. Instead of simply killing and harvesting all the gains of their hard-fought prey, they sought to capture them alive and contain many of them.
They kept their living spoils drugged and hidden away in a newly built and secluded shelter far from the wandering eyes of their village. Making sure to feed these monsters and keep the other more hard headed villagers from discovering their traces, together, this small group planned and plotted in preparation of the final act of their desperate gamble.
Early that evening of the next ordained sacrifice, an overlooked and absent group of young teenagers and a few adults was not there to witness the newest batch of terrified young girls as they were bound to the sacrificial pole. Instead, those missing, were busy secretly corralling a fair-sized group of drugged humanoid monsters, which they had managed to collect over the period of the month.
No one wanted to breach the depths of the cave in which they knew their indifferent guardian resided. However, young bravery and conviction gave them strength to challenge the unseen and unknown.
Guided by spells of candlelight and torchlight, they progressed deep into the yawning abyss. Every step of the way, they yearned to retreat back to the safety of their homes. The choice between a deadly unknown and covering their eyes to the far more tame and traditional sacrifice was grating on them.
Additionally, the growing struggles of their panicked captives did nothing to make the journey easier. And yet, each time they pictured the faces of past friends, older siblings, and acquaintances who had been sacrificed to the whims of this monster at the behest of their village leader, they found the strength to carry on.
They knew killing their guardian was out of the question, as even if such were possible, it would result in the decimation of their village as its restraining aura upon the surrounding monsters disappeared. But maybe, just maybe, they could offer it something else. . . An alternative.
Finally, they reached a point in the cave which had unusual greyish-black tones scattered about the ground and stalagmites. Something unspoken hinted to them that this would be the best place to leave the sacrifices. Wasting no further time, they rushed about with care to secure the captive humanoid monsters who were getting far more irritated as the drugs wore off. Tying their bound and declawed limbs to the scattered calcium formations, they then retreated with full haste. . .
Later that day, as the last of the evenings light disappeared from view, they each waited in their separate homes, filled with hope and fearful expectation. Their eyes remained glued to the newest group of appointed sacrifices bound to their restraining pole. Every once in a while, they would dart a glance at the far larger village head’s home. They could barely make out his old and beady eyed visage as his heavily wrinkled face pressed up against a window as he too, worried that this month’s sacrifice might go awry.
Time slowly passed as the darkness of night reached its deepest point. A distant cry sounded out in the night!
Faint guttural screams, slightly reminiscent of the month before echoed forth from the direction of the distant cave of their guardian. Numerous eyes widened at this development and hope filled many of the secretive younger teens, as their actions were proving to have been a worthwhile venture.
As had happened before, after much wailing and grunting, the distant screams finally faded, and all was silent. All throughout the remainder of the night, the bound sacrifices were left alone. The spirit guardian of the village never made an appearance. . .
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This was the start of a revolution among the whole village. Following this turn of events, the secretive deeds done by the mostly youthful group had been purposely revealed to every ear and recounted on every tongue, including the leader. Most words spoken were positive and supportive of their actions. Only a few, of which the leader was the most outspoken, were they cursed and railed at for their uncaring actions of disrupting the established order and shaming their ancestors.
Remaining steadfast despite the vitriol spewed their way, they continued their monthly ventures, proving again and again that this was a reliable method.
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The guardian surprisingly was quite satisfied with its newest method of sacrifices as they were delivered nicely packaged and alive to its home, never requiring it to leave the one time a month it was at its weakest. Additionally, they tended to be a lot hardier than the prior ones, which seemed to expire long before it had experienced its fill.
It only had one strange question in its mind. . .
Several months into this new and improved arrangement, along with its regular allotment of hardier sacrifices, it had received one last creature from among those which lived in the village.
This creature was abnormally aged and seemed particularly adverse to its ‘gentle’ ministrations as it cried out mightily in the night. . .