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The goblin encampment was both darkly fascinating and horrifying. The human woman, Mary, lay on her back, arms and wrists tied to stakes in the ground. Her belly was stretched like a balloon from the life growing inside of her. Contractions hit her with increasing frequency, causing her to clench her entire body and scream in pain. Sweat streamed down the sides of her nude frame.
The goblins delighted in this. They danced and sang around the nearby bonfire while shamans led others in creepy chants. With each scream, the goblins cheered.
The husband, trapped in the cave prison with Arwin, went mad with frustration and grief. He slapped away Arwin’s attempt to comfort him and tore at the bars of the gate until his fingers bled. “Mary… Oh, Mary…” he whined.
The first live birth Arwin had ever witnessed was the tiny, green head of a goblin coming out of the human woman on the ground. More births followed: an astonishing six in total. The babies, no larger than big potatoes, were pushed out with each contraction, falling into waiting shaman hands, covered in afterbirth. They were immediately carried off to another cave on the other side of the gully.
With all six newborns gone, the woman’s body became empty again. Two shaman’s stood over her. Clawed hands glowed, and in only a couple of minutes, the woman’s body shrank back to normal, healed.
She panted and visibly seemed to recover herself. Relief from the pain of childbirth painted her features. Then she saw the goblins around her. She groaned and whimpered. “No. Not again…”
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A hobgoblin from near the bonfire barely waited until the glow from the shamans’ hands began fading before shoving others aside and getting to his knees between the woman’s legs. Other goblins lined up and gleefully prepared to follow.
The sight of the goblins gang-raping his wife drove the husband over the edge. Or maybe it was the fact that the shaman’s magic was causing her to enjoy it. The last of the husband’s sanity shattered in the face of his loved one being so horribly abused. He howled and beat the gate.
A hobgoblin guard maliciously chuckled and stabbed the butt of his spear through the bars into the man’s face.
The husband fell back, a bloody gash on his forehead. He whimpered, lying on the ground, broken.
Arwin felt sick in his gut, the urge to vomit rising. He mentally flailed around for something to say to the man, though words seemed inadequate.
The husband looked up at Arwin with dazed eyes. “Three times. Three times they’ve raped her, and three times they’ve forced her to give birth to their brood. And now they’re doing it again.”
“I’m sorry,” Arwin muttered, at a loss.
The man’s head flopped around, and his words loosely spilled forth. “It hasn’t even been two weeks in this hell hole. Every few days, this…this happens. Foul parasites. Monsters!” He wept.
Arwin shook his head, marvelling and disgusted. It was astonishing that the goblins could breed so quickly, especially when it wasn’t even with their own species. Not that there were any female goblins, from what he could see. Perhaps there were none, and this was how the species bred, using other females. Parasite seemed an apt description.
A pair of hobgoblins approached the prison. Swords at the ready, they held Arwin at bay while they grabbed the husband from the ground and hauled him outside the enclosure.
“Wait!” Arwin protested. “Leave him be. Haven’t you done enough to him?”
The goblins just laughed and locked the gate once more. The husband was rudely stripped bare, then tied to a metal pole. This, with more cheers from the tribe, was placed over the fire where he began to roast like a pig—still alive.
The screams were…indescribable.
This time, Arwin’s stomach couldn’t contain itself. He vomited in the corner of the prison. Only after the screams stopped was he able to pull himself together.
With fresh determination, he started examining the walls and ceiling and floors, then inspecting every part of the gate. He had to get out of here. He had to free the others before this happened to them, too.
He remembered Yaz and paused in his efforts. Would he…? No, there was no way that the skeleton was going to try to rescue Arwin. He wouldn’t stand a chance against this horde. Arwin felt no resentment. But he did feel alone.
He resumed looking for a way to escape.