An abhorrent army of scabby trolls turned to face the giant from the machicolations as it approached, ready to shoot it down with their bows.
Kiano gulped. Saliva gushed out from the trolls’ gaping, thin lips full of thirst the second they noticed him and the other guy, named Derrick he learnt, and their hellish lips curled into a huge grin.
The giant, unbothered by the disturbing creatures, ducked its monstrous egg-shaped head under the guardhouse and continued its sluggish march across the bailey as the entire fortress quaked as if all hell had broken loose.
They were closing in on the black tower in the right-sided corner, which was only a few steps from the fortress’ main gate.
The giant came to a sudden standstill. They both held their breaths and looked up. The giant twitched into a horrific smile, but only the corner of its lips curled up; everything else remained the same.
Only a split second passed like this when suddenly everything turned upside down and the giant tossed them up like they were some kind of slippery fish. They both screamed in unison as the tide turned, and they were now falling to their deaths.
Kiano grimaced and shut his eyes. The ugly trolls aped their horror-stricken screams and guffawed like nutcases the entire time.
Just inches from getting their brains smashed out, the giant snatched them by their ankles and let the heinous trolls down, who all booed at it. Kiano gasped for air.
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Blood rushed to his head, and all thoughts became muddled in no time. He was uncertain because everything was upside down, but it looked like they were moving towards an underground passage just outside the tower they were heading towards a moment ago. He was correct.
The giant flung them down the passage without batting an eye. Kiano clutched to the stale stairs and escaped from plunging deeper into the unknown, but Derrick rolled down to the bottom and passed out as he hit the coal-black concrete walls.
He descended the passage as fast as he could to bring the guy back to life when he noticed that there was a spiked door at the end of the underground passage. His heart sank, and he stopped dead. The door handle twisted. It twisted from the inside.
Before he could grasp what was going on, something snatched Derrick as the door flew open. Everything happened in the twinkling of an eye, or faster! He looked over his shoulder and nibbled on his lower lip.
If he was quick enough, he could sprint past the trolls and head straight for the bridge. He could make it out of here alive! But why did his eyes shift to the spiked door? It wasn’t like he was some kind of hero!
Even his legs wouldn’t listen to his pleading brain trying to survive. He kept inching closer to the bottom of the passage. This was a bad idea. The second he landed on the bottom, whoever or whatever took Derrick would catch him, too.
But he was as good as dead whether or not he stayed in Hezakhal or roamed around in Lordôm – there was no escape from this place. The dungeon was a prison made for the dead, for those who had sinned while alive and now had to pay for their unforgiven deeds. Those who went there while still alive never returned to tell the tale, after all.
With a gentle thud, he landed one foot at the bottom of the passage. Before he could react, something grabbed his arm and yanked him away in a blur of motion. The spiked door slammed shut with a resounding thud. In a desperate bid for survival, he let out a piercing scream.