Goatblood

Chapter 1

Chainsrattled as I shifted, beginning to stir from my slumber. A groan leftmy lips as senses slowly returned. Cold stone pressed against myback, causing me to shiver. My eyes blinked open, blurry at first,only to readjust to find myself staring at a dark gray stone ceiling.

Bloodfilled my nose, and as I moved, pain surged through my body. Grittingmy teeth, I forced myself to sit up. Looking down, I saw that mysnow-white fur was stained with dried blood. My blood. Slasheslined my coat from my attackers trying to end my life, but failing todo so.

Iwould have laughed at their poor attempt to snuff out my life if Iwasn't in danger. A silver shackle was clamped around my ankle, andthe chain was connected to the stone wall to my left. Tugged on itonly rattled the chains; they were too strong to break with sheerforce alone.

Notthat I was very strong to begin with. I was just a goatt; a weak,useless goatt with no home or family left. All because of them.

TheMonarchors. The Gods of the lands.

Myblood boiled just thinking about those bastards. They weren't fit torule, much less call themselves gods. They were sum; monsters thattook what they wanted, did what they wanted, and no one dared tostand up to them out of fear.

Anyonewho stood up to them met the swift end of a blade or arrow. I scowledat the thought, once again pulling at the chains, even if I knew itwas pointless. I refused to die by their hands. I survived too longfor it to all end now.

Throwingthe chain back onto the ground, I leaned against the stone wall withan annoyed huff. My gaze drifted to the ceiling once more, glazingover as I became lost in my own thoughts.

Wouldmy people be proud of me? Would they be disgusted with me? I hadnever been like them; never once to fear what most goatts did. I wasan outcast in a way, but still loved by my village. With the fleetingnumber of our people dwelling day by day, all we had was each other,looking out for one another to ensure we survived were others fell.

Theelders always boosted about how we were stronger together than whenalone. So long as we stayed together and followed the rules laid outfor us, we would thrive. We would survive this genocide, and live tosee a new age for goattkind.

Alot of good that did. They had just spewed lies to try to avoid panicand fear taking over the villages. Their rules didn't matter at theend of the day. It only served to get the whole village slaughteredat once by the hunters that were all too pleased to strike down mypeople in the name of their gods.

Thefeeling was mirrored when I took a few of the damned hunters down fortheir hellish acts. Trained to be a warrior for my race, I wasn'tgoing to sit by and allow them to get away with it. If I died, Iwould be taking them with me.

Whatdid bother me, was the fact that I was allowed to live. Why didn'tthey kill me on sight rather than capturing me? Was there a reasonbehind it I didn't know about? Weren't they looking to slaughter allthe goatts in the land? That couldn't happen if I was stillbreathing.

Thiswas the Monarchors after all. There was always a reason forthem doing whatever they did, even if it was utter bullshit. I didn'tunderstand why they wanted to kill my people as they never botheredto explain why, though they had no reason to. Gods didn't need togive reasons to mortals for their actions. They were supreme beings;all mighty creatures that were above those who served under them.What reason did they have to give any reasoning for themselves?

Itwasn't going to make a difference anyway. They could—and did—dowhatever they wanted. No one stood up to them, and any who dared wascut down swiftly to show what happened to those foolish enough tostand against their gods. I scowled all the same.