𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 | 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐍

9 ⋆✶⋆The Castle from Hell

TW: Animal cruelty

For the first few moments inside the lion's den, I cleaned up. Every and any trace of the beast from legends had left behind that it had brought me here. The hole gap was in a corner that was so dark and dusty no one ever seemed to come there, but for safety I still piled up some crates that were nearby in front of it. At first glance you couldn't see there had been anything, so that was good enough for me.

I slid from shadow to shadow in the dark stone hallways, only on the stairs up I had to listen in extra closely that no one was near. The Castle was strange, it's very essence smelled ancient, like it had seen the creation of the world, when the gods had fought each other, their blood falling from the heavens. The waters had been forged from the blue blood of the god-king, the soils and stones from the lesser gods. But everything in these corridors screamed the depth below our world. It was a castle straight from hell. Even the temperatures, which should've been low, were so high I was sweating.

The strangely carved passages, tiled with black and white stone on the floors, had some advantages however, despite their unnerving atmosphere: they cast many black curtains for me to hide in. Crowley had ordered me to observe the Wargals in their natural habitat, but only the ones Morgarath used in battle. I was honestly surprised to hear there were other ones, which seemed logical afterwards, because the army was ever growing, so he had to be breeding these monsters somewhere.

Scarecely any guards passed me and the ones that did, were no bear-like demons with red prying eyes and fangs. They wore all black uniforms, completely in tone with the rest of the interior. On the lower levels I hadn't spotted any windows, only when I had gone up a flight of stairs or two was there some natural moonlight falling in from the small windows crammed into the thick walls of the mountain. When I was sure nobody was around, I allowed myself to look through one of them, as I had only seen glimpses of the courtyard outside. It got me more insight into the outline of the 'building'. It was a U-shape, surrounding a courtyard which bordered a cold and unforgiving cliff. The vast fortress was seemingly just another limb of the dark mountain chain coated in rain. From the bigger windows across from the wing I was in, I could see a room with a dining table, painted in red. The glow made it seem like a demon's mouth, wide open, ready to devour. Shudders went through my body as I didn't even want to think of the possibility of such a creature roaming these parts.

I continued on until I found an iron door, painted black, with a little opening in it. I peeked through the small gap and saw that it was a bedroom, presumably for a high ranking officer in Morgarath's army. It surprised me to see that there was still some luxuries to be found, stuff that had been dragged in at the expense of the simple Wargals if I had to guess. Some carpets laid scattered on the tile floor, and the bed made from the few trees found in the stone environment. I hurried on to the next room, a few meters further. When that turned out to also be a sleeping chamber, I retreated to the lower levels again. This high up there wouldn't be any Wargals, or any clue as to where I'd find them. On the second floor had been the private rooms, in the first the war rooms, dining hall and servant's quarters, the ground floor was where the kitchen's were and the armory. So, I found myself in the basement again, but this time when I heard a low two tone song, I went deeper. To wherever that sound was coming from. It led me to a towering steel door, as if it were built to keep something terrible in. Or out. I waited in a lurking shadow nearby for anyone to come out and the second they did I slipped through the still open smaller door that was built for actual people.

It was a cave. Spikes dangled from the high ceiling that might've gone all the way to the mountain tops. The songs echoed into eternity here, where they came from the beasts in the iron cages. Their red eyes were fierce and they growled at every guard passing by. Somehow it didn't quite seem right that the dark lord had his most brutal soldiers locked up down here, they should've been training with the others. Only when I took a closer look, and sneaked in between the iron bars, I spotted the smaller black furry fanged cubs laying beside them. At least three per larger Wargals. For a moment I thought they were wolves and I was already trying to figure out what that meant when their light hums gave it away: these were their children. These parents where so feral because they had young that they needed to protect. Of course They wouldn't be sent into war, because by the looks of it they listened to no one. Many questions formed in my mind around their breeding, so I found myself a semi comfortable outpost, somewhere in the back and whipped out some parchment to scribble on. This had to be what Crowley had meant with finding out their weaknesses.

In the following days I witnessed unspeakable cruelties, which I hadn't foreseen, but should've seen coming. He wasn't a dark lord because he was so kind and loving to the ones that served him. The beasts weren't as dumb as legend would have us believe, because when their cubs are taken from them and they want to attack, the guards don't threaten the grown ones, but the young. Sometimes they held a knife to their throats, while the little black fur ball would try to claw it's way out of their grip, sometimes whips. And far too often, they let it crack down or tugged it past their throats.

That was when for the first time, I'd felt true hatred towards that man. Burning fire in my soul that was ready to slip into his chambers and bear whatever punishment that would come from slitting his throat. A fitting death, a fitting punishment. My bones screamed that it wouldn't even be enough. His punishment had to come down twice. Once for vengeance and once for the gods.

The heart shattering howls from grief that erupted through not just one cage, but all of them, that was my lullaby as I went to sleep. I tossed and turned on the stones, uneasy that no one was caring for the ones left behind. The 'care-takers' had put out all the torches about an hour ago, but the wailing they hadn't been able to extinguish. Of course not, because the loss of a child is a kind of pain that can't be described in words.

I stalked over to the iron cages, to the one where the fresh blood still soaked the stones, laying in a puddle like water. The elder Wargal, suddenly alone after their children were stolen from them,  was huddled into a corner, curled up like a cat. My heart ached at the sight of such a mighty animal, being treated as no more than a rat. I stretched out my hand, through the holes in the checkered iron.

"They are too cruel," I uttered softly, "no one should have to see their loved ones die like that,"

My words retorted off the cave walls, mixing in with the screams of grief.

Their ears shivered, spiking in my direction. Then slowly they lifted their head, connecting their lifeless dull eyes with mine. The beast carefully sniffed into the air with their wolven nose, apparently smelling the difference between my scent and that of their enemy. They slowly trudged over on all fours, one paw hanging limp besides their body as they ran their dry nose over my hand. A growl still escaped their lips, even though I meant no harm. Only then I saw the similarities, not with the monsters everyone made them out to be, but a scared and beaten dog, biting at everyone because they can't tell who hurt them, only what they were.

"One day," I whispered, "I'll come back. When Morgarath is beheaded and the battle has been fought, then you'll be free."