CHAPTER 12: JUST KEEP ME
1223 Words
When consciousness finally returned, the first thing I felt was pain.
It ran through my shoulders and wrists like fire, forcing a groan from my lips before I even opened my eyes. Every muscle in my body protested as I tried to move.
I couldn't.
My arms were stretched wide.
My legs were held apart.
Something rough bit into my wrists and ankles.
I forced my eyes open.
Towering trees surrounded me, their ancient trunks disappearing into a canopy so thick that only thin ribbons of sunlight reached the forest floor. My heartbeat quickened as I realized I had been bound between two massive trees. Thick vines, stronger than rope, wrapped around my wrists and ankles, holding me in place so tightly that every struggle only drove them deeper into my skin.
My armour was gone.
So were my weapons.
Even the torn remains of my clothes had been stripped away.
A wave of panic crashed over me.
The stories I had heard about the Krackans flooded back all at once. Every tale told around Whitewolf campfires painted them as monsters that devoured anything unfortunate enough to wander into their territory.
I clenched my teeth.
"If you're going to kill me," I muttered, "then get it over with."
No one answered.
Instead, several enormous figures emerged silently from the shadows.
Krackans.
There were at least eight of them.
Their towering bodies were covered in scars that looked centuries old. Their skin resembled weathered bark more than flesh, and each carried long claws blackened by age and battle.
One of them approached me.
Instinctively, I struggled.
The vines held firm.
The creature ignored my resistance.
It examined the bruises covering my arms, the cuts across my shoulders, and the wounds left by the battle with the Lycans.
I felt unsettled as it began to touch me.
It had an awful smell, but right now that wouldn't matter.
It smelt my neck and removed every clothe that remained on me.
My breast shot out as it removed my breast pads.
I shivered, but, the Krackan did not mind as its claws carefully caressed my breast.
Somehow, I could feel the sensation.
I felt it had charmed me, but I knew that would be wrong.
It went straight to my v****a and looked at it for some time.
"Stop this!" I shouted to no avail.
Instead, the Krackan carefully inserted its claws into my v****a and then smelt it.
"I swear, I am going to kill you," I screamed, but it was not moved.
But it continued. At first, it was slow and gentle.
Then it became fast and rhythmic.
A beast was fingering me, and somehow I felt it.
At that moment, I felt filled. It was something I did not want the Krackan to stop.
Then it looked as if I was healing.
Another Krackan approached carrying a shallow stone bowl filled with dark ash and crushed herbs.
They began cleaning my injuries.
I stared in disbelief.
This made no sense.
They were treating me.
Not hurting me.
One of them carefully cut away strands of hair that had become tangled with dried blood around my wounds before applying the herbal mixture. Another gathered the removed hair, carried it to a small stone fire nearby, and burned it together with fragrant herbs.
A sweet scent drifted through the clearing.
It reminded me of wildflowers after rain.
The Krackans stood silently as the fragrant smoke curled into the air.
One after another, they lowered their heads.
Not toward the fire.
Toward me.
My pulse hammered inside my chest.
What...
What were they doing?
They weren't celebrating.
They weren't preparing a sacrifice.
They looked almost...
Reverent.
The oldest among them stepped forward, placing one enormous hand over his chest before bowing deeply.
The others repeated the motion.
I had no idea what it meant.
"I don't understand you," I whispered.
None of them reacted.
They simply watched me with strange, unblinking eyes.
Hours passed.
Perhaps longer.
Time no longer had meaning beneath the endless canopy.
Eventually, two younger Krackans returned carrying large slabs of freshly roasted meat. They placed the food on a flat stone within my reach before stepping back.
The smell filled the clearing.
Rich, smoky yet unfamiliar.
My stomach growled immediately.
I hadn't eaten since before the battle.
Yet I couldn't bring myself to touch it.
Every horrible story I had ever heard came rushing back.
What if it was human flesh?
What if it had belonged to one of the Lycans?
Or worse...
One of my own people?
The thought alone made me nauseous.
"I won't eat it."
The Krackans exchanged glances.
One nudged the stone closer.
I shook my head.
"I said no."
They watched me for several moments before carrying the food away without protest.
Their restraint unsettled me even more than violence would have.
Nothing about this made sense.
They had every opportunity to kill me.
Instead, they treated my wounds.
And fed me.
I was protected and guarded by the Krackans.
And continued looking at me with that same unsettling reverence.
As darkness settled over the forest, more Krackans gathered in the clearing.
Nearly twenty of them formed a wide circle around an ancient stone marked with symbols I had never seen before.
A deep rhythmic chant echoed through the trees.
It wasn't aggressive.
It sounded ceremonial.
Every Krackan focused entirely on the ritual.
For the first time since my capture...
No one was watching me.
My breathing slowed.
This was my chance.
Carefully, I tested the vines again.
Still too strong.
Then I noticed it.
Near the base of one tree lay the broken tip of a Krackan claw.
It must have snapped off during one of their earlier battles.
It wasn't far.
If I stretched...
Just a little farther...
My fingertips brushed it.
Almost.
The vines dug painfully into my wrists as I reached again.
Another inch.
My fingers closed around the broken claw.
I froze.
No one had noticed.
Slowly, carefully, I began sawing at the vine around my right wrist.
Each movement felt impossibly loud.
The chanting continued.
The vine frayed.
My arm trembled from exhaustion.
Finally...
It snapped.
I almost cried out in relief.
Working quickly, I freed my other wrist before cutting through the bindings around my ankles.
My muscles screamed as blood rushed back into them.
I nearly collapsed.
Not yet.
I forced myself to stand.
Every instinct told me to grab a weapon.
To investigate.
To find answers.
Instead, I listened to the oldest lesson every warrior learns.
Survive first.
Ask questions later.
Keeping low, I slipped behind one of the enormous trees.
The chanting never stopped.
Another step.
Then another.
Still no alarm.
Once I reached the edge of the clearing, I stopped looking back.
I ran.
Bare feet pounded against damp earth.
Branches whipped across my arms and face.
Roots reached from the darkness, trying to pull me down.
I ignored the pain.
I ignored the cold.
I ignored the fear clawing at my chest.
There was only one thought in my mind.
Escape.
I ran deeper into the endless forest, believing I had finally won my freedom.
I had no idea that the Krackans had never intended to stop me.
Nor did I know that unseen eyes were following every desperate step I took through the darkness.
- Writer
