Wednesday, April 03, 2013

The A to Z Challenge! C is for Capture



C is for Capture!
More specifically, a scene from NIGHT CHILDREN: DARK BIRTH where Roland gets captured!


Chapter Twenty-Five: Wild Blood Man


He woke in chains.  If he could see the position of the moon he’d know how long he’d been unconscious, but he sat inside a closed up traveling box.  Although it was completely black inside, his nocturnal eyes had no trouble seeing everything it contained. 

Thick wood paneling stood up on all four sides and the top, blocking out the sunlight.  He would’ve thought he might be inside a small building except he could feel it moving down the road. 

He pulled at the silver chains but they wouldn’t budge.  The metal felt too hot to touch.  Despite his overwhelming exhaustion, Roland forced himself to try to turn into a bat.  If he was small enough to slip out he might be able to fly to safety.  Nothing happened.  He tried to calm his frightened thoughts and focus again, but it still didn’t work.

Wildes Blut-Tier was sprawled against a corner of the room.  His blazing red eyes watched Roland silently. 

Looking away from those eerie eyes, Roland started to take in his surroundings.  There were strange traps hanging all over the walls.  Some looked like bear and rabbit traps, but others appeared more fiendish.  He then noticed the piles of animal fur.  Many of them were from animals like foxes, wolves, and bears.  Other furs seemed to come from animals he’d never seen before. 

A sasquatch skin caught his eye.  He wondered if Fenroth had a hard time killing it. 

Roland noticed something even more peculiar.  What looked like human sized insect limbs swung from the ceiling, swaying back and forth with the movement of the carriage.  Mysteriously large fish scales rested in a corner, glinting with an emerald hue.

Roland spotted the werewolves, Set and Hades, deep asleep in their cages.  For a moment he felt pity on them.  He shuddered at the thought of being trapped as a wolf forever. 

Wildes wasn’t the only one watching him.  A single crow eyed him sadly from its cage by the door.  He thought such a harmless bird didn’t belong in this place of horrors.  An empty bunk covered in fur and surrounded by strange weapons and traps rested in the back of the wagon.  That’s where Fenroth must sleep.

Henry rested against the wall beside him.  Relief briefly washed away fear when Roland saw his friend’s chest move slowly and heard Henry’s heartbeat.

He gently nudged him with his leg and whispered as quietly as possible, “Henry, wake up.”

“Whu...?”

“Don’t scream.  Fenroth will stop the carriage.  Are you all right?”

Henry pulled on his chains but of course they didn’t budge.  Roland had no success so he knew a regular human wouldn’t have any luck.

“Roland, I’m glad you’re here.  Charlie got me while I was sleeping.  He knocked me out with a shovel.  My head still hurts.”  His face white with fear, he kept trying to pull free.

“It’s useless.  How did you wind up here?”

“Charlie must have carried me into the woods, but I woke up and kicked him.  He dropped me, so I started to run but I heard Polly calling for help.  It startled me enough for Charlie to knock me out again.  I woke up here.  Can’t you change into a bat and escape?”

“Nope, but I’ll keep trying.”

He felt the carriage bump and realized it must’ve driven off the main dirt road.  Suddenly it came to a grinding halt.  He heard the sound of people climbing down the side of the wagon and then walking around.  The door opened, and Roland caught a peek outside.  A faint pink glow briefly illuminated the black interior, causing Wildes to squint and whimper.  It was almost dawn. 

An Indian girl entered, followed by Fenroth.  He closed the door and gave Roland a self-satisfied smirk.  “Better get some sleep.  We’ve got a long journey to the Master’s secret lair.” 

“Dominic told his servants we were off limits.  You’d better let us go.” 

Fenroth let out a big, deep laugh.  “The Master warned you to remain behind the barrier.”  He casually walked to his bed.  The girl sat on a small pile of skins.  She appeared roughly sixteen years old. 

Fenroth gave a toothy smile.  “He said if you left, you’d be fair game.”



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