All That I've Overcome

Found A Nice, Healthy One

WARNING, relatively explicit (though not prolonged) sexual assault takes place in the chapter, dunking torture as well. I tagged it with waterboarding, but that's just because it's a common tag and well understood in the cultural lexicon. Dunking torture is basically the opposite of it, instead of pouring water on the victim, the victim is held under water. Read with caution, everyone!!!

To skip either of these scenes, do as follows:

Assault: stop at [And then the monster was on him...] And skip to [Chef Turned Back to John and leaned in...]

Dunking torture: stop at [and the ordeal continued.] And skip to [she dropped him back in his tiny glass bottle...] (It's about halfway through the subsequent paragraph. Again, I don't drag it on 😅)

~~~~~

It was truly a lovely night. Chef strolled through the street in the dark, holding only a dim lantern and a wrought iron key. She could see the lights of the troll tree as she approached. The castle scientist had finally perfected a drug that would make a troll lose its mind to reproductive instinct, and her plan was finally approaching its true beginning. She needed only to catch two trolls. A strong one, and a young, healthy one. Once she had them, she'd have her own personal supply of fresh troll, and she couldn't be more excited.

Chef had always, since she was young, hated the One-Troll-Per-Bergen-Per-Year law. She knew it had good reason. According to the history books, when their people had first captured the trolls 500 years ago, every day was Trollstice, but their numbers dwindled quickly and despair swept the population. There were few surviving primary sources, but the ones they did have reported that in the beginning, the trolls numbered in the thousands, or even hundreds-of-thousands. Their leftover few hundred paled in comparison. So they sought to change it.

Their earliest genetic experiments on the trolls made them hardier, especially the grey ones, so that they would be less likely to die young. The experiments and breeding programs eventually also turned to shortening trolls' pregnancies as well. What resulted was an evolution. All trolls were capable of bearing eggs, and they had all adapted to be more arboreal. Legs and arms lengthening slightly and foot pads getting bigger. They grew tails, helping with balance while climbing, and the ability to purr and growl. Typical pregnancies lasted less than a month between conception and hatching, which worked for the Bergens just fine. They'd been able to maintain what was left of the Troll population for hundreds of years thanks to the proud work of the long line of scientists and chefs who dedicated their lives to bringing Bergens happiness.

Chef was proud beyond words to be one of them, and to be working on this with the assistance of Doctor Groth. She arrived at the doorway of the cage. Her key clicked satisfyingly in the lock, and she stepped inside. Most of the trolls seemed to already be hiding in their homes. No doubt nervous as Trollstice loomed near. It would only work better for Chef, as there would be fewer trolls to see her coming.

She quietly neared the tree, stepping around the patch of mushrooms at the base, and looked critically at her options. She was right that there were few Trolls out, and the ones who did spot her weren't quite right so far, not that she could have caught them as they ran for cover as soon as they spotted her. She smirked at their fear. Simple little things. Fit for a meal and not much else. She glanced through the leaves until she spotted a somewhat large adult troll writing in a notebook out where she could reach. It had covers over its ears, so it must not have heard her approach. Excellent. It was brown, with blue hair, but beyond the fact that it was breeding age, she didn't care about how the troll looked.

Her hand darted out and grabbed it, shoving it into a small bottle before it could call for help. Good. Just one more. A younger one, preferably. She circled to the other side of the tree. And there one was. About half the size of the first one, but still old enough. It was blue all over, wearing...were those goggles? It was shaking with its hands covering its' tiny face. An easy target, just like the first one. When she grabbed this one, though, it screamed. Claws came out and it scratched and bit at her, struggling to escape. She used her other hand to push its body back into her hand, knocking off its odd little goggles in the process. She squeezed and the troll went limp. She shoved it in the second bottle with a huff, and dropped it in her pocket with the other bottle. Back to the castle. Soon, every day would be Trollstice again. Her experiment would change their village forever. And as for her? She'd get to be happy anytime she wanted in the process.