Terror of the Shadow

CHAPTER TWO

When his mind finally found its place again, it was dark. Had he been out for that long? No... there was still light. It was faint, though, and far away. He blinked his eyes. Things began to focus. He saw light streaming in from a wide, craggy opening in the stone. He was inside a cave.

He sat up. Bad idea. His head felt like it was about to split in two. He gingerly placed his hand on the back of his head. It was warm and sticky. He looked at his fingers, stained crimson now with his blood.

"H-hello?" he stammered.

"Shh!" a voice called from somewhere the darkness. "Stay down. We don't want them knowing we're awake." The voice was familiar.

"Torreck?" Laban whispered. "Where are we? What happened?"

"War'acks."

That was not a word he wanted to hear.

"We need to leave," Laban said. He scrambled to his feet and darted towards the door. His feet caught on something. He hadn't noticed the chain wrapped around his ankle. The chain was pulled taut and Laban fell face-forward onto the stone floor of the cave. He ground his teeth against the pain. The rattling sound of the chain echoed back through the cave.

"Well, there go our chances of sneaking out," Torreck said.

Laban heard voices coming from somewhere deeper within the cave. They were coming closer.

"Wh-what are they going to do to us?" Laban asked.

"Nothing good, that's for sure," Torreck replied. His voice had started to shake, betraying his fear.

"Can we break the chains? Pull them loose?" Laban said, frantically tugging at the clasp around his ankle.

"No use. I've tried. Nothing to break them with. They're anchored in too deep. We're not going anywhere."

Laban watched in horror as the flickering lights from within the cave grew brighter. Angry shadows of people were cast against the sides of the cavern, brandishing torches and weapons. Dark figures soon emerged, wrapped from head to toe in dark robes, stained red with what Laban hoped was only mud.

"Have you ever met a War'ack before?" Torreck asked.

The mental locks he had kept wrapped around that time of his life suddenly began to come unhinged. Memories of faces, twisted and full of rage, flashed across his eyes. He remembered the bone-chilling screams, that continued on into the night, and didn't stop even when the sun had risen again. He remembered a river whose waters flowed red...

"Yes," Laban's voice cracked. " They killed most of our clan. I got away. A few others did, too. I don't know how we managed to escape."

"Think you can do it again?"

Laban retrieved the seer-stone from inside his hidden pouch.

"Oh, you don't think some gods are going to save us now?" Torreck mocked.

"They are our only hope now," Laban said somberly.

"Hello, my friends!" one of the War'acks interrupted. His voice was deep and resonant. The group stopped their advance. Many of them brandished pistols or slender rifles, obviously making them seen on purpose. One of them stepped forward and sat on the ground in front of them. He unraveled the bandages over his head, revealing a dark face covered in scars.

"Where are we?" Laban asked. Torreck jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. The War'ack smiled, showing his crooked teeth.

"You are my guests," he replied slyly. "I thought we could get to know each other. I've already met your friend here. But you... what's your story? No, no, let me guess. This man..." He pointed towards Torreck. "You're his apprentice, aren't you? He's showing you the ropes. You're new to the Outland. You're just now learning to tame it."