“Wakey-wakey, scumbag. We’re here.”

Jumping down from his seat at the head of the wagon, a guard walks around towards the back, loudly rapping the hilt of his sword against the metal bars of my cage. I sit up from the floor, feeling the soft morning light of early dawn gently warming my skin as it filters through the bars—and then lie back down.

“I said wakey-wakey!”

Pulling a large key from his belt, the guard rattles it noisily against the cage door as he yells at me through the bars. Sitting up, I turn to face the tired-looking man.

“Just give me ten more...” I tell him—and then lie back down again.

“Cheeky little... You’ve got us working overtime, you know?” the guard complains, unlocking the door to the back of the wagon and swinging it open. “If I have to spend ten more minutes babysitting some cannibal scum—"

“Not minutes." I interrupt. "Reps.” I correct him—before lying back down once more.

Having already awoken an hour ago, I decided to start my morning workout. Being locked up in the back of some prison wagon isn't an excuse to slack off and neglect my muscle training after all. I didn't have much room to work with in this cramped space so I had chosen to start with a simple core classic—sit-ups. Enduring the impatient guard's stream of verbal abuse, I continue pumping out the last few reps I need until I'm completely satisfied. Finishing up. I jump to my feet and hop out from the back of the wagon, stretching my arms out to the sky and shaking the stiffness from my body.

“Fwah~! Freedom!”

“Freedom?” the guard scoffs. "If you really think we drove you all through the night and came all this way just to let you— Huh? What happened to your cuffs?”

The two of us look down as I hold my unbound arms out in front of me. The metal bindings were no longer locked around my wrists and were lying in pieces across the wagon floor.

“I dunno. They must have snapped by themselves somehow." I lie—I had snapped them. They made my wrists itchy so I had immediately pulled them apart with a little force the moment we left the town of Bredkrum.

“Bring her another set from up front! Let’s just hurry up and get this over with so we can head back home already...”

Calling to his partner tending to the horses, a new set of metal chains is brought over and I'm clamped back into another set of shackles. Seemingly satisfied with the integrity of these new chains that definitely won't snap by themselves somehow, the guards start leading me across the packed dirt and past the crowds of busy people.

We had only stopped on the outskirts of town but it's still surprisingly busy here. I can see several horse-drawn carts and carriages parked about, with many busy-looking people going about their business—merchant-types carefully rifling through their carts, armoured adventurers milling about with bored expressions, tired-looking people with shabby clothes quickly shifting boxes from one place to another—it seems like a popular rest stop to gather at before being allowed through the main gate. The occasional stare and head turn from the less busy-looking numbers of the crowd turn my way as I shuffle my way past them, escorted by the two guards.

They lead me a short distance away to another caged wagon much like the one I had arrived here in, except a lot bigger. Several armoured guards in matching uniforms stand around it, keeping a careful eye on their surroundings.

“This the emergency transfer?” one of them asks as we approach, “Care to fill me in? Short notice has got me out of the loop on this one.”

“It’s all written here. She’s your problem now.”

With a tired half-salute, my two escorts hand something to the new guard and then promptly leave—no doubt eager to return to the town they brought me in from. The new guard unravels the paper he was given and reads off of it.

“Let’s see here... Pepper Black, huh? Emergency transfer... Sexual harassment... Missing adventurers... Forty-eight counts of— Hah!?”

Shocked by what he had read, the guard looks up at me with disgust. I don’t blame him. Sexual harassment is a serious crime after all.

Shaking his head, he rolls up the paper and stuffs it into a satchel at his hip. Taking out a key, he opens the back of the cage, ushering me inside and locking the door again behind me. After some shouting and barking instructions at each other, the guards board the front of the carriage and it eventually starts to move.

“Heh. Hey, girly." a voice calls out to me. "Come take a seat next to me.”

Inside the carriage cage, a large, muscled man—a huge scar across his bald head—waves me over with shackled wrists, gesturing for me to sit next to him.

It seems I’m not the only prisoner being carted away to this ‘Surstrom Spire’ place. Aside from me, there are four others in the back of the carriage. One big, bald guy—and three not-so-big, not-bald guys who look as if they’re desperate to keep as far away from the big bald guy as they possibly can.

The big guy pats the seat next to him again. Eyeing me up and down, he gives me a dirty smirk as he licks his lips, motioning me over to him.

Fwah! This guy seems friendly! Could this finally be my first of one hundred friends? He’s not a woman so there’s no chance of any accidental sexual harassment either. This is your chance, Pepper!

I take a seat on the bench and slide myself up right next to him, close enough so that our legs are touching. Friends should be close after all!

“H-huh?” The big guy looks a little taken aback for some reason and shifts away from me slightly before regaining his composure. “Oh, I get it. Heh. You must not know who I am. Well, they call me the Peeler. I'm famous around here, you know?”

Hearing that, the other three prisoners shudder a little as they shy themselves even further away.

“Fwah! They call me Pepper! Nice to meet you!” I reply with great enthusiasm.

“R-right...” The Peeler blinks down at me, looking a little uncomfortable for some reason. “W-well, since you clearly don’t know, they call me the Peeler because I just love peeling people. Nothing brings me more pleasure than tearing off their flesh with my own fingernails. Heh. I especially love peeling the soft, supple skin of young women.” He licks his lips again as he eyeballs me with his dirty glare.

“Fwahaha! I love the soft, supple skin of young women too! We really have a lot in common, The Peeler!”

“A-ah, is that so...” the Peeler replies meekly, before turning away from me and sliding further down the bench.

Fweh? Why does he look disappointed? Did I upset him somehow? Did I say something wrong? Maybe friend-making isn’t so easy after all...

The carriage ride continues in silence. As the hours tick by, I spend my time training my muscles until our arrival. Occasionally, the carriage stops and the guards come in to feed us or complain about having to empty our communal poop bucket again, but for the most part, nothing of note happens and the day once again turns to night.

Huddled up in my own little corner of the cage, I quickly slip into slumber as the jostling of the wagon's wheels on the dirt road violently cradles me to sleep...

...

I suddenly awaken to something tickling my face. Opening my eyes, I spot the culprit—a tree. A leaf from one of its lower branches is gently prickling my chin. Planted inside a bucket of dirt, a small tree—about two goblins tall and as thick as my torso—is sitting in the middle of the carriage floor. Its healthy green foliage faintly shimmers in the morning sunlight peeking in between the bars. It's also taking up an annoying amount of room in this already cramped enclosure...

"What's with the tree?" I ask, squeezing myself up against the Peeler again.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Guards brought it in during the night," he replies, shifting back away from me. “Said it was a prisoner. Probably some Cursed freak or something.”

Cursed, huh? I guess these Curses come in all shapes and sizes. Some people get four arms, some throw up a lot, and others get turned into trees. Mom once told me that there was a time when Curses didn't exist—a time before Curses. It's a time she says she doesn't remember very well though. A time when everything was black, she said. Whatever that means...

The carriage comes to a sudden stop, pulling me away from my thoughts.

“Surstrom Spire!” a guard laughs. “Welcome home! Enjoy this fresh air while you can because it’s the last time you’ll get to!”

The guard steps around to the back of the carriage and unlocks the door. Lining up, the other prisoners and I file out of the carriage and step out into the morning light. Immediately, we're met with a stunning view of our final destination.

“Fwahaha!” I laugh. “So this is Surstrom Spire!”

A massive body of water stretches out in front of me. Flexing the muscles in my eyeballs, I follow the edges of the water as they stretch off into the distance and past the horizon, seemingly arcing and wrapping around to form an almost-perfect circle—like an impossibly large crater filled with water. It's the first time I've ever seen a body of water this large before. Though impressive as it is, the Spire itself is on a completely different level...

In the distance, a gargantuan tower sits alone in the centre of the lake. Climbing high above the clouds, an intimidating black structure of jagged, bizarrely layered pieces spirals up towards the sky. Veins of red peek out from between the layered black segments like blood between the cracks, giving the waters below an ominous crimson glow. If, like demons, the world itself had horns—Surstrom Spire would no doubt be that horn.

Loaded onto a small boat with the other prisoners, the guards slowly row us across the calm waters towards the imposing black tower.

“Fwahaha! It’s so high up!” I laugh. Flexing my eyeballs and even standing on my tippy toes, not even I can see how far up the Spire goes. It seems to spiral endlessly into the sky, disappearing somewhere beyond the clouds.

“I want to climb to the top! I want to—! Fweh.”

An angry guard pulls me back down into my seat, scolding me about not standing up while the boat is moving. Resisting the urge to push him in the water, I continue to gaze up in amazement. If this tower is the prison, I wonder where they'll end up putting me. I hope it's somewhere near the top!

Eventually, we arrive at the base of the Spire and deboard the boats. Escorted single file through the heavily guarded gates and into the Spire itself, we’re taken into a large room where other prisoners, also clasped in metal shackles, are lined up against the wall. At the instruction of the guards, we join them in the line.

To my left is the Peeler, and to my right is... Fwah! The tree! It was on the boat so they must’ve just carried it in behind me. I don’t think it can move by itself after all... Hmm. Or maybe it can? If it’s a prisoner it probably did a crime, right? And to do a crime, you have to—

A sudden chill runs down my spine, causing my back muscles to twitch in anticipation. I know this feeling. A wild grin spreads across my face as I come to the realization. Somebody strong is here.

A large figure appears from around the corner with slow, heavy footsteps. At his arrival, every guard in the room immediately turns to attention, saluting as he walks past. The prisoners all turn stiff and lower their faces toward the floor, instinctively sensing the dangerous intensity emanating from him.

Soft clicks overlap with heavy thuds as he slowly walks his way down the line—the weighty footsteps of his furry, padded feet accompanied by the clicking of his clawed toes across the stone floor. As he walks, he carries his hands behind his back. Much like his feet, his hands are huge, clawed, and covered in fur. Tufts of the same bluish-grey fur stick out between the buttons of his black uniform jacket and above the collar, running up his neck and across his whole face—a wolfman. Although, unlike the interrogator back in Bredkrum, this guy is full wolf. Ears, snout, fur, fangs, and all.

As he walks past me, he suddenly comes to an abrupt stop, before turning his head my way.

“Is there something you find amusing about me?” he asks in a low growl.

Fweh? Do I find something amusing about him? He's asking me? I'm not sure I understand the question though... Amusing? Hm? Oh! Is he maybe self-conscious about how intimidating he looks and wants me to help take this awkward tension out of the air? In that case...

“... I’ve never seen a dog wearing people clothes before, I guess?”

At my answer, a weighty silence settles across the entire room. Beads of sweat simultaneously form across the brows of every single guard at once as they eye each other nervously with shaky glares. Somewhere down the line, I hear a prisoner break into fearful sobs, and even the Peeler quietly inches his way away from me.

The wolfman glares down at me, gently scratching at a nasty scar running down the side of his face.

"I see," he says simply, before turning away and continuing his walk down the line.

Hm? That was weird. Why did he single me out just to ask what I thought about him? Wait, was that... Was that flirting? Fwahaha! Has Pepper Black finally reached her popular phase?! Or...

Reaching up and touching my face, I realize—I'm still grinning.

Oh. He must've called me out because I was the only one in the room still smiling. Well, it can't be helped. When I felt that immense power radiating off some crazy powerful aura, I suddenly got a little homesick is all... Just a little. I’m nowhere near done playing around in the Outside though! Pepper Black is a woman who still has friends to make and cute girls to kiss! On the mouth!

Looking down the line, the wolfman is addressing a nervous-looking prisoner at the front, reading something off a sheet of paper handed to him by another guard.

“... seven counts of assault, two counts of burglary, two counts of arson...” The wolfman continues to read down the list before finally handing it back to the guard at his side. "Floor seventeen," he growls.

“Yes, sir!” Another guard salutes, before dragging the prisoner away somewhere.

I lean over to The Peeler next to me. “Who’s the wolf guy?” I whisper. “He seems like a big deal.”

"That's the Warden," he whispers back. “And I’d shut my mouth if I were you. That’s one guy you don’t want to get angry.”

The Warden, huh? I look back down the line and see the Warden, paper in hand, addressing another prisoner, a weak-looking man who seems as if he’s about to break out in tears.

“... for the attempted assassination of Queen Kokoro la Peppyseed...” The Warden continues reading from the paper before coming to an eventual stop. "Floor ninety-nine.”

“Why?!" the man complains loudly, tears streaming down his face as the guards drag him away. “Why couldn't it have been a rom-com?! I didn’t consent to being in this genre! I don’t even know what genre this is! I chose romantic comedy! What kind of romantic comedy begins in prison?! I want to be in a rom-com, dammit!! I want to—!" The end of his weird rant cuts off as they drag him out of earshot.

Floor ninety-nine, huh? How many floors does this place go up to? It seems like the worse the crime the higher the floor you get sent to. That last guy didn't seem all that dangerous though...

“... and eighty-seven counts of corpse mutilation. Floor ninety-nine.”

"Keh! Is that what you're calling it? Corpse mutilation? Do none of you idiots understand what the advancement of medical research means? No? Of course you don't! You mouth-breathing, barely-sentient morons and your stupid ethics are the reason why we're so far behind—!“

Another prisoner is judged by the Warden and dragged away somewhere—a girl this time. She was too small for me to see over the guards so I couldn't tell if she was cute or not...

Looking around, I was hoping for more cute girls but everybody here is just some rough-looking dirty guy. It’s all men! It’s like being underground with all the goblins again except this time it’s mostly just humans instead! Maybe I can ask to be sent to floor ninety-nine as well. At least I know there’ll at least be one girl up there...

“... assault, and forty-one counts of torture, mutilation, and murder.”

Looking to my side, the Warden had already worked his way down the line and was now addressing the Peeler.

“Floor eighty-three," he growls, making his final judgement.

“Eighty-three? That high, huh? Heh.” The Peeler gives me a dirty smirk and a smug wink as the guards start to take him away. “I bet you get it now, don’t you, girly?”

Fweh? Get what? I don’t get it at all.

All of a sudden, the Peeler dons a smug aura at the fact that he received a somewhat high number. Is he trying to show off? Is he flirting with me too? Having dealt with the Peeler, the Warden steps in front of me. The guard at his side passes him a paper but before it even reaches his hands, the Warden is already giving me a cold stare.

"Floor ninety-nine," he growls.

“... Eh?” The guard next to him looks surprised.

“... Fweh?” I’m surprised too. I didn’t even get to have my list read out.

“... Eh?!” The Peeler looks especially surprised, breaking out into a cold sweat as he gets dragged away by the guards.

The Warden leans towards me and sniffs the air, before tapping a claw against his snout. “You’re not human.” he growls, “Nor anything I’m familiar with.”

“...”

His eyes narrow as he glares down at me suspiciously.

“What are you?”