There's no time for sleep when the snatchers capture you. I was living and possibly soon-to-be-dead proof of that. They made sure to prod and poke and push and jab at me with their knives and butts of their spears. It was to the point I wished they would kill me and release me from the semiconscious fugue plaguing me; they weren't so kind.

I was instead bound, both hands and feet, by a hair-like rope and hung from a large bone, with my back an inch off the ground. The four snatchers carrying me took up the positions on both ends of the bone, two to an end. And to their credit, they did a good job at carrying me. My back never scraped the ground, no matter how fast they ran. It was like I was the prized pig on my way to roast.

"Let me go, or else," I mumbled. I knew nothing would come of the threat, but tied up like I was, with my belongings taken, I hoped beyond logic that begging would encourage them to let me go.

The snatchers, in unison, made a soft growl, like a cat's purr, and one of the creatures rewarded me with a punch to the ribs. I was shocked. The blow hurt like hell. A small whimper escaped my lips, and the sound of my whimper only made my tormentors angrier–I think the purring growls were signs of their anger.

I could care less about making them angry, though, especially if they planned to eat me.

"When I get my energy back, it's up for you," I said in the direction of the one who punched me. Puncher—as opposed to two others I'd properly named Pokey and Stabby–was running on my left-hand side.

He had my belongings strapped to his belt. I think he was their leader. I couldn't say for certain because he wore nothing to distinguish himself from the others, but even if he did, I'm not certain I could tell the difference anyway. Not to be racist–what a funny way to start a sentence–but they all looked identical to me.

The snatchers were hairless and androgynous–there were no dangly bits, I checked– with pale white skin as white as a ghost's sneeze. Most of their features matched any human's but with slight variations. Instead of five fingers to the face, they would be forced to give three. And instead of a regular set of eyes, theirs were bulbous, taking up half their face.

If that wasn't strange enough, these snatchers looked way bigger than the one I'd helped Mr. Mosely feed to the rats. Those snatchers lurking around the tower had reached maybe halfway up my chest, while these were almost equal in height to me. I couldn't say what that meant, but I hoped it wasn't some revenge plot for the one we'd killed.

"Yeah, I'd be scared if I were you," I said as I jeered at them. I wanted them to be angry. I wanted them to lose their composure, if possible, anything to delay our travel or cause a disturbance. I feared the second we arrived at our destination would spell the end for me.

I continued to rattle off a few phrases and braced myself for another blow. None came. A few soft purrs from Puncher brought us to a screeching halt. He'd heard enough of my yapping.

Puncher reached inside one of the pouches lining his waist and pulled out a ball made of hair and some unknown waxy substance. It was about the size of one of my [ethereal] balls of light.

I shuddered at the sight of it. I knew whatever Puncher planned to use it for would have to do with me.

Before I could react or scream, Puncher grabbed ahold of my jaw and tried to force my mouth open. I, of course, struggled against him. But despite him not having any thumbs, his three skeletal-like fingers were very nimble and strong. He forced the ball into my mouth and held it there in place as my muffled screams picked up.

The sensation of thousands of tiny hairs on my tongue was one of the worst feelings ever. I tried to spit the ball out, but Puncher wouldn't have it. He wrapped a white cloth-like covering over my mouth to keep the hairball in place.

I tried to shake the cloth off, but it wouldn't come undone. The knot was too tight.

My muffled screams rang out. I screamed to exhaustion, at which point our party set off again. I could only stare at Puncher with animosity as the party ran through the empty streets. My life was in his hands.

Our party ran for what felt like hours with little change in the landscape. The few times we did stop was to switch directions. Puncher would give a purr, and the group would alter their course. He was definitely their leader. It was the best explanation I could think of.

While we ran, I inspected the ropes that were restricting me. They were annoyingly tight and cut off my blood flow; the palms of my hands were in full blush. And there was numbness in the tips of my fingers. I needed to escape these bonds.

The only question was when my energy would reach its boiling point. The energy was hard to get a handle on. I had a general sense of what it was, but it was more of a feeling than an actual science. When my chest got that hot-warm feeling, like when I'd drink hot chocolate on a cold day, that was energy. A little bit more of it, and I could escape.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Before the hot-warm feeling could arrive, the purrs from Puncher started to arrive more frequently. Every intersection was a turn, which was a bit disorienting. I was beginning to get a bout of vertigo. My shoulders tensed as I peered around for an explanation for the drastic change. The explanation came in the form of greenery.

Moss, vines, and colorful flowers covered the walls and ground of the buildings we passed. Giant mushrooms with caps the size of a dinner plate poked out through the foliage and glowed a blue color reminiscent of [ethereal]. It was like I'd just entered a forest in the middle of the city– a stark difference from the buildings I'd encountered just a few paces back.

As I was taking in the new sights, I noticed the foliage on one of the walls started to ripple like leaves in the wind. It was almost as if the building itself were moving.

Puncher hummed out a long purr, and Our group came to a stop. I looked around, trying to take in the new environment. It was strange to see plants growing in the dark.

He continued to purr, and soon, the purr grew into a symphony of purrs. All the snatchers in the group hummed and followed the same tune. I was the odd man out.

I found it strange they would purr so loud when, before, it seemed like they were intent on moving in relative silence. The snatchers were capable, but I doubted even they wanted to draw a blizard to the area.

I glanced again at the wall and saw that the wall was not a wall at all. It was a door. The door was the size of two doors stacked on each other and was built directly into the wall, with the moss and vines acting as camouflage.

"No. No. No…," I mumbled through the gag. The time to escape had arrived, and I wasn't ready.

I squirmed and shook against the ropes as Puncher did what he did best–I ignored the blows. After taking so many punches, I got used to them. Puncher's tiny fist wasn't nearly as strong as a human's.

The lone snatcher that wasn't carrying me, Stabby, walked close to where my hands were fiddling with the rope. He smacked my knuckles, and I relented.

I thought I'd have more time to work on loosening the bonds. Alas, I wasn't so lucky. I needed to make the most of a bad situation. They were all close to me. I could get them all in one fell swoop.

“[Blast].” The words came out like a muffled sound, nothing resembling the true word. With the hairball in place, I couldn't move my tongue or lips, so the magic went nowhere. I didn't know the word had to be said clearly for the magic to activate. I lamented, not trying to escape sooner.

The door opened inward and showed two snatchers clad in light armor–a black metal like a beetle's carapace. Puncher approached them quickly and started firing off a series of long purrs. I think they were talking about me. The mere fact that the snatchers were an organized group made the possibility of negotiation a better idea than it was before. I prayed for good news.

Puncher stayed by the door when their conversation ended while one of the armored snatchers approached our party. It carried a spear like the ones Pokey and Stabby carried. When the new snatcher got close to me, the size difference between it and the other snatchers surprised me.

The armored snatcher was taller than me. It also had much more muscle on its body than every other snatcher I'd seen so far. Under the new threat, something told me my plan to escape was likely useless. Even If I got out of the ropes, escaping the meathead before me would likely prove difficult.

I lost sight of the snatcher as he went behind me to purr to the snatchers carrying me in the back. The newcomer purred to my captors, and I nearly pissed myself when I heard its gravelly purr. If a lion could talk, I imagine it would sound like the armored snatcher.

After the purrs ceased, we walked through the entrance. The door was even bigger than I thought up close and was made of the same black-like metal the guardsman snatchers wore. There was a thickness to it, too. The door could probably withstand [Blast].

In the entryway, the second armored snatcher pointed down a small tunnel hidden behind another layer of moss and foliage. It was talking directly to Puncher in the same gravelly voice as the first guard snatcher. I didn't flinch at the voice the second time; however, I wished I had understood what was said. The purrs were almost like they were gossiping behind my back.

After a few more exchanges, Puncher unhooked his belt and handed over all my belongings to the Guardsman, who started rifling through them.

I cursed, watching the exchange. The guard couldn't hear my voice, of course, but the muffled blabbering did draw the two snatcher guards close to me, and I cursed myself again for drawing attention to myself.

The two hulking figures squatted down next to me, and one of them met my gaze. Its face was way uglier than Punchers. There were a lot of fat, blubber, and black-like splotches that looked sickly, like mold. The guard purred something to his friend while looking at me and then poked me a few times with a finger. It left me alone after that.

The two Guardsman ushered us through the tunnel leading down a steep slope. So steep that no matter how high the snatchers held me, I still scraped the ground.

We walked for about five minutes until we reached another giant metal door. One of the guards approached the door. I couldn't see it clearly, but it looked like he was fiddling with a couple of knobs or buttons. After a bit of time, the door creaked open, revealing a stairway leading further down. I wasn't sure how deep we were, but it had to be at least a few floors down.

What waited for us at the bottom of the steps was a large cave filled to the brim with snatchers. There were huts, strange tools, and even stranger animals. One look at the place was enough for me to realize escaping would be harder than I realized.