Random Short Stories

Mitzel: Jungle Lord

"Roko!" Hanan screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched the love of her life turn and, surrounded by other villagers, walk away. Hanan was tied to a tree wearing the ceremonial clothes of one about to be sacrificed. The time had come for a ceremonial sacrifice to the zamri, otherwise known as supreme powerful being, of the jungle. Hanan had the unfortunate luck of having her 17th summer and not being married. Roko was going to ask her to marry her but was just too late. Hanan was chosen to die to make the jungle zamri happy.

Hanan saw tears on her lover's face as he turned away. "I love you," Hanan said, trying not to make this worse for the man who had lost the one he loved.

Roko nodded and walked away, getting pats on the back from sympathetic friends and family. Soon, Hanan was alone in the jungle, waiting for the zamri to come and destroy her with one of the many disasters found there. Personally, Hanan was convinced the zamri would send a jaguar to eat her alive. She really liked jaguars.

The young woman did not know when she fell asleep but she woke up as the sun began to set and the jungle was getting to be very dark in many spots but the sky was awash with the orange light of the dying sun. Hanan shuddered at that description. She wished she hadn't thought of it like that. She wasn't really afraid to die but she didn't want to face the truth that she would never be with Roko.

"Hello there," came a smooth, woody voice. Hanan looked up at the tall stranger but she couldn't see his face or his features in this light. "Are you the sacrifice?"

Hanan glared at the man. She was never very happy after waking up. "Look, I was dragged out her in uncomfortable clothes on the day that I was going to be asked to marry the love of my life and tied to a tree. I say that those are pretty sure that these all points to the fact that I am the sacrifice to the stupid jungle zamri, who, Im guessing, is you."

The sun disappeared and the man's robes began to glow softly and I could see the zamri clearly. He had a handsome face, marred by scars that crossed it. His hair was not the black of the villagers but a brown green of the jungle. His robes were made of animal skins, vines, and fluorescent moss that was what caused the glow. His eyes were those of a jungle cat, searching for any movement that they saw but they were kinder than a cat. They were soft and warm and they gave off a light of comfort.

"I would have to say," the jungle zamri soothed, "that does sound an awful lot like you are the sacrifice."

The zamri bent over Hanan and revealed his hands. They were strong things, but soft and sensitive. His fingers ended in sharp claws that he used to cut the young woman loose. He lifted her to her feet as he gave her a smile. "Sorry for the inconvenience," he explained, gold eyes hovering on her face. "I was busy overseeing a fight that broke out among the snake clans. Touchy creatures, don't you think?"

Hanan stared at the man before getting her voice. "Hold on, what's going on," the woman asked, stepping away from the zamri. "You're supposed to kill me and be happy, or something. What's going on?"

The zamri smiled. "My name is Mitzel. I am the zamri of this forest and, well, you're the sacrifice."

"That didn't help at all," Hanan growled, narrowing her green eyes at the forest man. She was confused by what was happening.

The man, Mitzel, laughed at her, not to be mean. He found her amusing. "You see," he said, holding out a hand to Hanan. "Your people think I kill you. No. What I'm really looking for, are servants. I need help maintaining such a vast domain so I send signs that I am angry and I get a new person to help me. I have five servants. I called for you because my first, a wonderful lady named Friel, died not too long ago. You do not have to and you can go back and tell them to send another but I request that you stay with me and my servants for one day and decide whether you want to or not."