Rot || ONC2024

──●Twenty●──

   The forest was dark and eerie. The trees were naked, their bony limbs reaching towards the sky. Leaves skittered across the ground. Every part of nature seemed to reject these gray skinned creatures.

    Despite the harsh grip that these Walkers had on my wrists, I didn't show an ounce of pain. As we neared the front of their encampment, I didn't scream nor cry. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. They've already saw enough of that. Now, I was to be strong. Conceal the fear.

    This building I was brought to was similar to other Night Walker settlements. This one appeared to be an abandoned mansion, maybe once belonging to an aristocrat. The windows were cracked and full of grime and cobwebs. The bricked exterior was caked with dirt and moss. The roof and spires were littered with dead leaves and overgrown shrubbery. Holes covered the building like seeds in a garden. Pieces of cobblestone from the walkway were chipped and broken off. 

    As the rotten, wooden door came into view, everything became all the more real. I'd be coming in, but not coming out. This is were I'd lie for the rest of my days.

    If it meant protecting our camp, I'd do it again.

    The door opened and I was harshly pushed inside.

    "You are to go to your right," spoke one of the Walkers. "There, another Walker will take you to your final destination. We are all aware of your arrival, soldiers are posted down the hall. Escape is impossible. You are to oblige is you wish for your camp to live."

    I nodded and began the walk to my grave.

 Evil, sharp smiles and blood red eyes filled with hunger and lust lined the hallway. Their claws gleamed with malice, ready to slice me if I dare step out of line.

    Just as quickly as it had started, my walk ended. In my way stood a muscular Walker. He wore an ebony, puffy sleeved shirt with a crimson corset around his waist. He had tight pants as black as the night and dark boots stained with blood. Upon looking at his face, we wore a sadistic grin. His hair was pushed back and streaked with silver.

    "Welcome Camille." His voice was deep and husky. It reminded me of a wolf snarling.

    "Thank you sir." 

    He harshly grabbed my wrist, digging his claws into my already raw flesh. Blood began to trickle down my hand and spot the floor below.

    He brought me to what looked like an infirmary. Beds with beige and yellowed sheets lined the walls, Walkers in stained medical regalia tending to all the injured.

    To my surprise, we stopped by a bookcase. The man grabbed the back of it and pulled it forward, revealing a passageway that led down to gods knew where.

    "I am Alastor," he spoke, dragging me down the cobbled stairs, "I am the leader of this fine establishment. You will become familiar with my presence."

   As I began to speak, the words were sucked from me. We had entered a new room. In this room stood a dozen tall, gigantic glass casks filled with glowing red liquid. Shelves lined the walls, on these shelves stood thousands of tiny, glowing crimson tubes. At the end stood an open room that housed a bed, a wooden chair, and rope. Numerous syringes and needles lined that wall.

    "What are you doing with me."

    Alastor harshly pushed me to the bed. He grabbed the rope and began to tie my limbs to the bed posts.

    "What are you doing with me!" Although attempting to speak with authority, my voice remained shaky. I begun to pull my arms and legs away.

    Alastor dug his claws into me, causing me to clench my teeth.

    "Best not to struggle, my dear, if you want your camp to live."

    I felt tears in the corners of my eyes. The rope dug into my skin, my limbs ached from being contorted. My stomach threatened to spill out of my mouth from how tight it was binded to the bed.

    Alastor put on a pair of ebony gloves, then grabbed a syringe off the wall and began to load it with the liquid. From a cabinet in the corner, he grabbed out a singular folder and a black marker. 

    "How did you get my folder?"

    A sinister smile spread along his lips. "I have my ways, my little goddess of death."

    With the marker, he crossed out my name. Just below it, in all caps he wrote a new name. Mara.

    "You sick, sick bastard. You'll pay for this, they'll seek revenge."

    Alastor chuckled darkly. "It's hard to seek anything when they're dead, my dear."

    "What did you do." The words shook as they left my mouth, almost as if they were scared for the answer.

    Alastor grabbed my wrist and smiled. "Tomorrow, your camp will be decimated. Reduced to nothing but Walker chow."

    "That wasn't part of the deal!"

    "Did you really think I'd let a petty little deal get in the way of growing my territory even more? Even getting a good meal for once? Humans really are clueless."

   Without another word, he jabbed the needle into my vein. The crimson ice began to flow through my body.

   "You fucker! You lied! You fucking lied!"

    "But I got a good soldier out of this lie, didn't I?"

    Pain erupted throughout my body as I felt the blood in my veins begin to freeze. Almost instantly, my hands went numb and grey. My nails began to grow into claws.

    "I will never bow down to you," I spat through the pain. "You'll pay for this, I'll find the truth."

    "You can try, but I doubt you'll succeed. Now, sleep well Mara, I'll check on you once you awaken."

    With that, Alastor left the room.

     As my vision began to fade to black, I began to scream.

    "It's Camille! I'll find out, just you wait! You'll regret this you bitch!"