Sabrina – Part 4

Thana waited for Sabrina to rise from her bed with awkward determination. When Sabrina finally pushed back the covers and stood, she found her legs were weaker than she expected. She staggered and had to reach for Thana’s arm to support herself. How long had she been abed?

She was freshly clothed in a rough spun dress, and her feet were bare but she didn’t seem to mind the rough stone floor beneath them, in fact, she preferred it somehow, the thought of putting on shoes seemed unpleasant.

As Thana led her out and into the narrow slitted corridor from the infirmary, Sabrina gaped around at the many veins of darkness that spilled off from the main corridor. Each leading to untold places and dark beyond human sight. For the first time she appreciated the lack of light down here and found when she passed a lit torch, it hurt her eyes to even get close. She closed her eyes as she passed it and felt its burning brightness penetrate even her eyelids. Perhaps this was just the aftermath of the headache she wondered.

When Thana had led her through the corridor and beyond another side tunnel, they eventually reached a set of tall wooden doors, reinforced by metal bars that ran across its frame and center. Thana gave the door a push with a single arm and Sabrina watched in amazement. The doors were old and heavy, and Sabrina figured Thana must just be stronger than she looked to push aside the doors as easily as she did.

When the doors were opened it gave birth to a much larger room than the infirmary, both in width and in height. The ceiling was lost beyond the pocket of darkness above and Sabrina wondered just how far below the surface of the city they were to warrant such a height. She noticed the jet-black banners that hung across some of the pillars that supported the room: a white spider of a field of black, and shuddered. Just what exactly was this place she had found herself in?

“Over there is Brock,” Thana gestured, pointing over the many table-benches that lay shrewdly about the room. “He’s the half-orc and the cook.” She finished.

Sabrina could not miss the guy; he was tall and wide enough to fit perhaps three of her side by side. Sabrina looked around and did not see anyone else in the room, except a duo of skinny humans drinking at a table.

“What time is it?” Sabrina asked wondering whether everyone was asleep or whether this was normal numbers for this group that resided in the sewers of Leeside. Thana read her mind and smiled.

“It’s early morning, the sun isn’t up yet,” Thana said. “Brock doesn’t sleep much anymore and is always happy to make you some food. You should take advantage of the guilds quietness; we’ve grown somewhat numerous over the last few days.”

Thana said this last part as if it brought her great pain.

“Guild?” Sabrina asked.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“We call ourselves the Webbed Children” Thana said.

Sabrina narrowed her brows and looked over the room once again and focused on the banners.

“Huh,” she said idly and made her way to the bar that resided at the back of the room where the half-orc stood. When she was almost at the bar, she took a glance over her shoulder and noticed Thana had disappeared as unceremoniously as she had first appeared. The two skinny men at the table looked at her with interest and as quickly as that, she felt anxious again.

“Don’t worry about them” came a deep rumbling voice ahead of her and Sabrina noticed it was the half-orc. Despite the orcs muscle-bound body that looked to be designed for nothing but destruction, Sabrina saw his eyes give off a different story, they were watery and sad, imprisoned someway between his flat nose that looked to have been broken many times. When Sabrina was fourteen, she once heard a bard sing about how: eyes were windows into the soul. But she thought he was a moron.

“Brock?” she asked, and the half-orc gave a stern nod.

“What can I getcha?” he said, throwing a filthy rag big enough to be a curtain over his shoulder.

Sabrina approached mischievously feeling delighted in meeting the big man, and having his protection similar to Thana’s; this man seemed a trifle more trusting than Thana, however. She sat at a stool opposite the bar and could see the half-orcs tattoo’s that snaked up his arm. Behind the bar was a collection of bottles and a small kitchen with hanging foods. A cauldron brewed, and Sabrina wondered what he was adding to the pot.

“What’s in that?” she asked glancing at the cauldron.

“Rat stew” came the reply.

Sabrina was hardly surprised by the answer but had the craving for something more…raw? she felt weird, be it insane at what she desired. At this very moment, she wanted nothing more than to reach over Brock’s shoulder and pluck at the upturned rat that hung from a hook, then eat it, fur and all. She gagged unconsciously at the yearning.

“Alright, how about some sausages?” asked Brock innocently misunderstanding her dilemma.

The sensation hit her again like a wave, flooding through her body and causing her skin to tingle uncontrollably. Her senses opened again, only this time her mind had to sense to only focus on one stimulus. She could hear a voice traveling throughout the room on invisible strings, vibrating ever so slightly. The voice had traveled from afar, distant place within the sewer, but Sabrina heard it crystal clear.

“I don’t know anything!” shouted a youthful voice, frightful and weeping.

“Silence,” came another much shriller voice across the invisible threads that vibrated through the room. “Look at my arm, look at what’s left of it. Enjoy playing with demons, do you? Well, I like playing my own games too.” Sabrina could hear the whimpering of the first voice, its youthful undertone made her feel sick.

“They call me Skinner down here,” the shrill voice said.

“No please.” Came the suffocating cries from the first voice, Sabrina could hear his saliva filled mouth spew the words in great gasps.

“A man can live without his skin you know…For a time at least,” Skinner said.

There was a scream and Sabrina felt her own head scream in pain, she snapped the invisible strings that connected her to such torture and looked up at Brock. He had been watching her the whole time and she saw on his face he hadn’t heard what she had, he said nothing, but his bright amber eyes watched on in contemplation.

“Rat stew seems fine,” she said, averting her eyes. She still had no idea what was happening but began to feel out the sensations, instead of being hit by them randomly. When she focused on the scents around her, she suddenly smelled them more clearly. When she focused on her hearing she could sharpen the most diluted sounds into deafening proportions, she could even hear the conversation from the two skinny men behind her, as if they were no farther than Brock who stood right there before her.

It felt…exhilarating.