Delilah honestly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The sheer insanity and cruelness of it went beyond the madness she thought that had overtook her town. Mathias had blatantly confessed his involvement in her attack. He was the reason she was in this mess to begin with. Had he not attempted to kidnap her to...her mind stopped, refusing to elaborate that thought further. But had Mathias not done what he’d done, she’d never have filed that report. Her father wouldn’t have lashed her flesh, then forced her to go to the annual Suitors’ Ball. She wouldn’t have had a terrible fear of men and the power they wielded. And what’s worse? Had her dear friend, the late Mrs. Violet, not interfered, Delilah would have surely been taken and raped. A horrible fate diverted by the kindness of one stranger.
Tears threatened to stream down her face and her breathing became erratic. She couldn’t beg for their help. She wouldn’t dare let them spot her. She was terrified when she thought she might die for her actions, but what Mathias and Roy spoke of was even worse. Running ran through her mind, but she seemed rooted to the spot. They grew closer to her hiding place, but still, she couldn’t move. She would die here because she was too scared to get up and fight.
The sound of twigs snapping registered in her mind, but she couldn’t even look to see what was coming. Instead, her eyes trailed the boys before her as they found where she was tucked away. A hand closed around her ankle and ripped her from the bush
across the cold, wet ground.
“Gotcha. You’re not getting away this time.” Mathias’ other hand ran up her inner thigh suggestively, pushing beneath her skirts and brushing against her knickers.
“No!” she screamed. Her legs kicked against Mathias’s ribs. “Please stop! Don’t do this to me,” she begged.
Roy’s eyes turned to lust. He licked his lips. “Can we share her?”
“You can take the back end until I’m done. I don’t want anything tainting my experience,” Mathias sneered.
“I thought we were friends!” Delilah cried out, with hope someone would show her mercy.
Hands ripped at her clothing, tearing the fabric of her dress into shreds. Tears streamed down her face as she kicked, punched and bit wherever her hands and mouth could reach. She didn’t know who was grabbing what, but at this point it didn’t matter, she just wanted to get away from the nightmare that threatened to take her sanity.
Roy’s hand slapped across her face. Hard. “If you struggle, we will make this so much worse for you.” There was a hint of excitement in his voice as he pulled down his trousers, kneeling above her head.
Mathias grabbed her hips, flipped her over and pressed her face into the dirt. “Be a good girl now,” he whispered as he pulled down her drawers.
Roy grabbed her chin and tried to force open her mouth as his other hand rubbed down his length. This couldn’t be happening to her!
Someone, please help me.
“I don’t want this.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed. The reality of her situation came crashing like nothing before.
Please. Anything but this.
Chapter Three
Skarde
Presently…
It didn’t take long for him to traverse down the mountain. Especially after Astur mentioned that the humans he originally spotted racing into the plains had entered the forest at the mountain’s base. Apparently, they also held torches and weapons. Skarde vaguely remembered leaving.
There was no grumbling resentment of that cursed cliff as he scaled his way down, narrowly avoiding his death, or irritation when Astur’s deep laugher irrefutable bellowed from where he watched from above. Skarde knew that his friend enjoyed his suffering immensely, but he speculated he would eventually find a way to get him back. The only thing he felt was a burning desire to satiate his urges to hunt down every last one of the humans. Even if it meant more would come. It didn’t matter. He would hunt them all down until they understood that the mountain, the forest, heck even the plains, were his.
During his descent, there was one illogical moment he thought they were coming for him, but he knew that couldn’t have been right. He had been careful. None of the humans would have known about his existence. There would have been an altercation a long time ago if they had. The mountain was his home, his sanctuary, his claim. Any humans that roamed free would not have gone undetected for long, Skarde was sure of that.
While it had been a long time since he lived with a tribe, their laws still held true in his heart. Not a day had gone by that his father’s words echoed deep in his mind.
~
"Don’t ever let a vile human see you, or any other sentient beast. Unless you want King Erike to strike you down where you stand."
"But he died many years ago," Skarde replied, knowing the lore of his people all too well. His father made sure of that in his daily teachings.
"You will learn these sacred laws, my son. And then, when your mind is filled with nothing else and you have grown older and found a mate, you will do the same for your younglings." His father stood from his seat next to him and peered at him with a bemused smile.
"Never! Females are gross. I will never have a mate. Ever!"
"You will change your mind. You’ll see." His father ruffled the top of his head, making a mess of his braids.
"Hey! These were just done. Mother will not be happy." Skarde batted his father’s hand away from his head.
"What? I didn’t know," he teased, but the wide grin and glint in his eyes said that his father knew exactly what he was doing.
~
Skarde winced at what was once a memorable moment between him and his father. Now, it only remained as a painful memory that surfaced all too often and brought bitterness in his heart. No tribe. No mate. And no younglings.
King Erike may not have struck him down like his father had claimed he would, but it certainly felt like he was being punished for something he had done so long ago. He knew the humans didn’t catch sight of him back then, and he would make damn certain that they wouldn’t now. Unfortunately, it meant the humans had to die. Every last one of them. It wouldn’t be honorable either, given that he’d be required to kill them all without giving them a chance to succeed, but it was the only way Skarde knew he could avoid King Erike’s ire.
The sound of screaming caught his attention. His ears twitched, and he turned his head slightly in the direction the sound was coming from. As he crept low along the brush heading straight for the treeline, his goal remained the same. Assess the threat of the humans and determine his course of action.
There, in the middle of a clearing, were two humans. Judging by their looks, Skarde presumed they were males. Unable to observe much from his position, Skarde quietly circled the pair. While he should have killed them immediately, he was curious. Why did they decide it was a good idea to come to his mountain and disturb his forest? Furthermore, he needed to know if others would be joining.
Reels turned in his mind. How many humans did Astur spot? He grasped his jaw trying to remember.
He stalked closer to the humans and their ear-shattering cries, nearly wincing from the pain. What in Smite’s hell are those cursed humans doing?
If it hadn’t been for the babbling words spoken between whimpers of what sounded like English, he would have assumed the wretched humans were viciously mutilating a poor creature, but that wasn’t the case.
Something caught his attention. Scraps of colorful fabric attached to a female brutally wedged between the solid ground and the two males that held her in place. He couldn’t see her face as she was forced on her stomach, but from the sounds coming from her mouth and her obvious attempts to break free, it was clear these males were violating her. That, and how the air stunk of fear, excitement and desire.
It was vile.
Emotions overcame him and it wasn’t just rage. To violate another weaker than you was considered the most dishonorable thing one could do. He paused and wondered for a moment how that differed from what he was about to d
o, but ultimately decided that nothing would stop him from guarding the secret knowledge of his kind’s existence. Not even a human female, the only one of the three he almost felt bad for, needing to kill.
Shaking his head, he dislodged those misplaced feelings from his mind.
The violence before him only proved his father’s teachings were true, and it was this exact reason he knew humans couldn’t be trusted, why trolls thought they were the vilest of all wretched beings that walked the earth.
In that moment, Skarde felt true regret for his choices as a youngling, sneaking off to watch humans. True, he always regretted that decision, but observing their horrid actions with his own two eyes made his choices back then seem significantly worse.
Blind rage consumed him, disregarding his careful planning to go unseen. Skarde snarled.
"What was that?" one of the males asked, fearfully looking around.
"Probably a raccoon or something. Relax. Don’t ruin this for me," the other one replied, eyes closed in satisfaction as he grabbed handfuls on the female’s body.
Clearly, humans were blind if they could not spot him only a few feet away. Perhaps he would have found it amusing how he snuck up on them if he wasn’t so disgustingly horrified by them.
One male spread the unwilling female’s legs apart and wedged himself between her thighs.
“Please, just let me go. Don’t do this,” the female beggingly sobbed.
He had never felt so much emotion pour into him in his entire life than in that moment. He was going to rip the humans to shreds and then put the female out of her misery.
Chapter Four
Delilah
This was it. She couldn’t take this anymore. She was about to be raped, and there was no one there to stop these men this time.
Instinctively, she thought of Mrs. Violet, the elderly woman who saved her from Tristan, the Head Guardsman’s son who plotted with Mathias to kidnap and rape her. For several months after the incident with Head Guardsman Miller, the women had grown quite close. Mrs. Violet was like the mother Delilah had lost, and she was like the daughter that Mrs. Violet never had. Additionally, they planned to escape the madness of Bethania together, but Mrs. Violet passed away before they had a chance to act on their plans.
Delilah missed her terribly.
Her thoughts were pulled out of the past and back at the present when she felt Mathias line himself up at her entrance. Instinctively, she flinched. Thankfully, for a brief moment, she avoided penetration.
“You bitch!” Mathias yelled from behind her and slapped her bottom. Hard.
A hand grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look upwards. “You need to wait until he’s inside you to start moving your hips. Unless you want us both to take you at the same time?” His eyes were disgustingly lit with desire.
It was sickening.
“No,” Mathias replied angrily. “I said you can have her when I’m finished. Use her damn mouth if you can’t wait.”
Delilah thought she heard something snarl, but ignored it completely. Her mind simply wasn’t in the right place. They would get what they wanted from her, and when they were done, she’d be carted off to this house of whores as Mathias had so kindly mentioned to her several times. Then, they would keep her as a slave to satiate the needs of the councilmen until she was too used up to be of service anymore. She wanted more than anything to fight them off and escape, but it was useless. She had already tried to fight, but she lacked both the strength and energy.
A pitiful male scream pierced her ears as a weight was lifted off her back. It sounded like Mathias.
“Mathias? What the fu–”
The sound of crunching bones echoed through the forest. Delilah flinched at the sickening sound. Her stomach nearly threatened to empty by the horrifying noises behind her. Glancing upwards, she met Roy’s large eyes, and then she smelled the scent of urine.
He wet himself…in fear.
“No. It’s not true. Those were just stories…” Roy began to say. He stumbled backward with shock written across his face, while his hands slid on the leaves beneath him, as he tried to get as far away from Delilah as possible.
What’s not true? she wanted to ask, but the words failed to leave her mouth because loud snarling that sounded an inch away from her ear had Delilah frozen in fear.
Something blurred past her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see what it was, or perhaps that was a fortune in and of itself.
A large grey hand grasped the nape of Roy’s neck from behind. He was pulled off the ground only to hang several feet in the air by an unseen force. It was as if he floated, but she knew that wasn’t true.
Where’s Mathias?
She looked behind her and saw his crumpled, unmoving body. It was only then her mind screamed for her to run. She didn’t care that her clothes were in tatters, nor that her drawers were on the ground several feet away. She reached to grab them, but a snarl forced her hand back.
Sorrow didn’t even cross her mind as she watched in horrid fascination as the hand around Roy’s neck squeezed the life from the male, while another hand tore off each of his limbs without difficulty.
Blood splattered everywhere.
She pushed up from the ground, screaming, and ran off from whatever killed the two junior councilmen.
***
Even though there were no signs she’d been followed, her feet never stopped leading her astray from Aurelia’s path. Not until she felt safe enough to slow down and catch her breath. Undoubtedly, she was lost. While it was rather unlikely she was going to find her way back, she found that she didn’t care. Or rather, she found it difficult to care. Two people had been brutally murdered before her own eyes.
Cold, wet rain poured from the sky for what must have been hours. Her eyes were sore, puffy and dry after what felt like an eternity of crying. Nearly every salty teardrop had been shed, and even then, it wasn’t enough to calm her frayed nerves.
After narrowly escaping the mob of villagers and thinking she was safe, she’d been pinned down by Mathias whom she thought was a close childhood friend. He was about to brutally harm her, but just as he was about to make his move, his weight he’d been pulled from her body. Granted, she would be eternally grateful for whoever spared her the pain and humiliation, but she couldn’t remove the sick sounds of Mathias’s and Roy’s deaths out of her mind. While she didn’t believe they deserved to die in such a horrid way, she was relieved they would no longer be a problem. Between all that and running from whatever killed them while facing the unending harsh elements, Delilah had had enough.
Who could fault her?
Fog swirled around her feet and spread out in front of her. Appearing out of nowhere, the thick fog had caught her by surprise. The weather was dreary, and the forest became so dark and intense that Delilah struggled to see more than a hand’s length in front of her. The sparse rays of moonlight peeked through the treetops, but it was barely enough to amount to anything as they reached ground level. She squinted her eyes several times. It wasn’t nearly enough to make a difference in her ability to see. What was once an escape plan to flee for her life was now turning into a complete nightmare.
Drenched. Cold. Hungry.
It was rather unfortunate she’d lost her apple the woman gave her long before she had a chance to eat it.
Her mind flew as fast as a horse could gallop while her feet carried her deeper and deeper into the forest, but her mind never strayed far from those three thoughts, except when the horrid sounds of crunching bones crept their way in. Delilah shut those thoughts down fast.
If only she had time to pack something. A spare set of clothes, food to hold her over, or a kindle to start a fire.
If only my father never found my stash of belongings, I could have escaped much sooner and with more preparation.
It was a painful memory. Nearly as painful as the death of her mother several years prior, one that her father never quit blaming her for. Delilah bit her fingers. She disliked think
ing of the past. All the good memories were eaten up by the cold harsh reality of what had become her life. And after everything that had happened to her that night, nothing existed in the past that could spark a light in the darkness that consumed her. Not Mathias before he became a monster nor her father from when he was once loving and kind. Not even her mother. For she became long forgotten, only existing as a blur in her mind’s eye.
Bouts of intense howling from what she assumed was a pack of wolves, echoed around her, but she still flinched anyway. Despite having sounded from much further away, fear still crept its way into her shivering body and caused her to pause. Her soaking clothes felt heavy and were colder than a lake this time of the year from the constant wind blasting at her. Despite the cover the trees provided, wind was one element with a mind of its own. She needed to find shelter, and fast, before her entire body succumbed to the harsh elements that threatened to take her.
Distracted by creatures and the ever-decreasing temperature, her foot became stuck in something. She turned her head, lifted her gown and gasped. Her ankle had somehow become wedged in a thick bundle of tangled roots. She bent forward, grabbing the roots by her hand and yanked hard. Unfortunately, she lost her balance.
Delilah yelped as she tumbled forward onto the moss-ridden earth. Her tightly laced dress was becoming the bane of her existence. Groaning in pain, she stumbled onto her hands and knees, desperately trying to break free. Her struggles went unanswered.
“Can something go right for once?” she pleaded angrily.
Normally, an outburst like that would have cost her ten lashes. Plus an additional five for being what her father called pitiful. According to her father, that’s all she was. ’A pitiful excuse of an existence’. His words of hatred boomed in her head, taking up as much room as they needed to sprout seeds of doubt.
Maybe I am worthless. I can’t even find my way back to the main road.
The Lonely Troll Page 3
