Chapter 2: Carved in stone
As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he sees where the strange noises are coming from. Loud snarls and growls come from the mouths of demonic beasts.
Those are… Stride notices, as a slaughter had taken place.
Dozens of corpses spread are across the cave floors, monstrously large hounds feed on their remains. A gruelling sight, even for Stride who was no stranger to violence.
Given the state of their bodies, they must have come here some days before me. Had these people found me on the shores, I could have been one of them.
Do they live on this land, or did they get here the same way as me? I saw no trace of them outside. Maybe they were also forced to hide in this cave without a way to return. And now it has become a feeding ground for those creepy hounds.
I cannot go back, but simply walking past these man-eating dogs is not an option.
Stride examines the cave to find clues to escape. He sees a body lying close to an opening near a cave wall. Perhaps this could be his escape. There might have been some who made it this far.
I must find a way past them… My condition is worsening by the second, if I wait for them to fall asleep. There must be something here.
Stay focused. How can I get past these dogs without ending up like them?
Think of something like back then. If I want to steal something, I distract the vendor before taking the loot. There is always a trick, some way of misdirection…
Dogs… how would I trick a dog… Stride ponders as his eyes meet with one of the victims. That might work.
After toying with their food for what feels like an eternity, the hounds decide to rest and lie down. Stride is weak but still cautious. He cannot let his poor condition cloud his judgement.
Time to move.
Stride crawls out of the tunnel and follows the edge of their resting grounds. He slithers amongst the corpses as he attempts to hide his disgust for the smell.
He approaches a body that has been there for some time. Using the broken chain on his wrist, he severs a hand of the dead man. The rotten flesh is weak, and the hand comes off easy. A horrifying odour accompanies it. Stride persists.
I cannot afford to be scared.
The smell of death masks his scent as he moves closer to the joyful hounds. He takes a quick peek to see them rest with their eyes closed.
If I throw it from here, they should only be alerted from where the noise is coming from. I have to make it count.
He throws the severed hand!
*Thud*
The hounds jump into action like the savage beasts they are.
What terrifying speed! Stride admires as he reminds himself to keep moving.
If these creatures as much as smell me, I will be unable to outrun them. I have to trust in my distraction
Stride observes the foaming canines fight over his bait. Their playful nature vanquished the moment ‘prey’ was introduced. There are no alliances to be made amongst these beasts.
Patiently he edges along the cave walls, trying to stay out of their line of sight. Again, he peeks over at the hounds that gnaw at each other’s ears and neck.
The cave walls lead him to an open clearing that leads to more routes within the cave. From here on out, he must walk out in the open. There is still a good ten meters between him and the crevice. As he passes the corner edge of the cave, Stride questions his sanity.
Why can I hear their breathing from here?
A third man-eating hound lies right beside him. Stride slowly turns his head to see the beast being fast asleep. It slept through the commotion.
Stay calm.
He makes the split-second decision to cautiously move forward. If he keeps quiet, the beast should stay asleep.
“RAAAAAWWWRR”
A loud growl of the two fighting dogs’ echoes through the cave.
It slowly opens its eyes, still hazy from its afternoon nap. Greeted with a gigantic row of razor-sharp teeth, Stride is overcome with dread. The beast smiles right at him.
I have to run…
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Without any time to waste, Stride screams at the top of his lungs. If his instinct about these beasts during the short time he has been here is correct, this is his only chance to survive. He runs without looking back.
As Stride feared, the presence of the slumbering hound is right behind him. It easily outruns the weakened Stride, who is within reach of his escape.
“AAAAAAAAH!” Stride shouts as he vocalises his struggle.
This is it. I’m going to die!
And right in that moment, the other hounds come running back, frothing at the mouth. They push the other hound aside to have a chance to catch Stride themselves. Nothing beats live prey.
The opening!
He hears them bark and growl loudly as they fight for their escaping meal.
Please keep fighting! Stride begs during his sprint.
He makes his final leap of faith toward the crevice. The hounds jump after him.
*BAAAANG*
The hounds crash head-first into the cave wall. They bark and snarl at Stride, slamming their heads against the cave walls over and over. They fight each other, trying to strike the wall again.
For some reason, the hounds simmer down their aggression. They sit down calmly while grinning in silence. Like a dog whose owner corrected them.
Stride looks at them in horror as he recovers from his recent nosedive. They are drooling at the sight of him. More importantly, they block any attempt of going back.
Behind the hounds he sees the fallen men, and he weeps for their loss. How they must have suffered during their last moments of terror. Stride wobbles on his feet and catches his fall. He feels lightheaded from his tears and realises he cannot even afford to mourn the dead.
The crevice continues deeper into the mountains, and with no way to return, Stride continues forward. After having crawled through the cracks, he enters a larger open area.
His body feels sluggish, his movements become slower, and his eyes feel heavy. The toll on his body is undeniable.
Must stay awake.
The cave system is filled with crevices and dark corners. Stride attempts to remain vigilant, but he is too tired to care. Staying on his feet is even too demanding a task.
The darkness can play tricks on the mind, leading you to believe in things that do not exist. When Stride finds himself in a tunnel, he notices something strange around him.
Shapes of faces start to form in the tunnel’s walls and ceiling.
Am I going insane?
He is unable to discern who these people are, but as he looks around, he vaguely remembers them.
Then, as he turns to his left, he sees someone he recognises—the old man who always sat beside him on the ship.
Your guidance saved me countless times back then, old man. There was no one who survived longer on the ship than you did.
You told me stories of the old days on the ship. How a slave only had his hair cut once. But the oar slaves got a strange sense of pride from the length of their hair and Byzma could not allow hope to fester. As punishment, the slaves had to shave each other every so often with a dull blade.
Stride remembers as he touches his scalp, remembering a wound he incurred.
You were the only one Byzma left unkempt for some reason. Yet you never spoke about it.
But more importantly, you taught me how to row, how to avoid getting whipped, and that I should raise my feet when I sleep to avoid getting saltwater on the blisters on my feet.
You deserved a better life than this.
Stride notices the other faces more clearly, he recognises them. There are no strangers around him, but fellow prisoners. All the people who were also captured by Byzma and had to row on his ship for the remainder of their lives.
A familiar face stops Stride dead in his tracks.
She too was a slave-rower, seated in the front rows of the ship. He did not even know her name, but the girl represented an idea of hope within Stride. Even the slightest glance in his direction would give him a bit more strength to carry on.
I know it is selfish to think that another person’s imprisonment made my life less miserable. Yet it di-…
He collapses. Pure exhaustion, hunger, and thirst take over his body. He lands on his knees, using the remainder of his strength. He feels the presence of the heads watching him grow stronger.
Are the dead waiting for me?
Is this how I go out? After surviving all those monsters. After I became a free man…
A single person’s presence overwhelms his body.
“It can’t be,” Stride utters in disbelief.
Though he recognises him right away, Stride finds it hard to admit it is really him. He looks up with all his might as the head on the wall takes shape into a familiar face.
“For what I put you through, you are… I-”
Why now?
You took in a lowlife thief, a street kid. A mere runaway with nothing to his name. You saved my life and what did it cost you. I am the reason… you know it!
“Why are you smiling at me? Stop smiling, please.” Stride pleads.
His father grins. As if he tries to tell Stride that it is not his fault. That he is proud of him. Stride cannot seem to understand it. He should not be forgiven.
Without uttering a word, his father’s eyes move. Instinctually, Stride follows his gaze.
*Splash*,
A few seconds go by…
*Splash*
It felt as though the mountains experienced all of his pent-up grief and wept for him.
*Splash*, *Splash*, *Splash*, *Splash*
He gathers himself and crawls towards the water source. He drinks as much as he can from the falling droplets and puddle and manages to restore his energy.
He rolls over onto the cold hard floor. An odd sense of peace overtakes his body.
“Thank you, father” Stride mumbles as he descends into a deep slumber.
At long last, he rests, unaware of the dangers yet to come.
End of chapter 2.