Letter from a prey
If anyone will ever read this, my name is Kadr. As you may have noticed, I left some white space from the top of the page. Actually, I still have to give this paper a title. And I can’t find one that fits what I’m writing on it, since I don’t know what to do.
I suppose I should start explaining that the tombs near the place this letter will be put in contain the remains of Sh’leh and Tirqas.
The grave on the left, watching from the door, is Sh’leh’s. He’s been the first victim of Ygnwush’s splendid idea. “Let’s take the way through the old sewers!”, he said. And here we are. We were running behind him when that beast appeared and attacked. Sh’leh, who was the last of the row, attempted to defend us, but his pocket knife wasn’t perhaps the best weapon to use. Now I don’t think it will cut anything again. Well, maybe some dead corpses in that beast’s belly. Actually, Sh’leh used it when he had to cut his meal. And he usually ate meat, so, nothing different would happen, if it will cut some decaying dead warrior.
Then, the other tomb, opposite to the door, the one with some shreds of clothes on it. It’s Tirqas’. I put those shreds on it for a simple reason: she loved those clothes. She thought they would have been useful. “We’ll need to protect ourselves from the cold, on the Circling Mountains!”, that’s what she told us. They were quite elegant, and elegant clothes always have been her passion. Ah, if she ever knew they would have been her end. Yes, her end, because, as she attempted to take the clothes without touching the body of the unfortunate owner ( “Bleah! It’s rotten!” “It’s natural, Tirqas. He’s dead.” “Shut up, Kadr. Almost do-“ ), as she was almost done, here’s another spider! Poor Tirqas, you didn’t even see the trap. We escaped, just like she told us to do, but she was floating in the air, her leg caught in a rope. Now her body lies under a pile of rocks. Only the body. Arms, legs, head… they probably have already been digested.
I couldn’t get Ygnwush’s body. As soon as he found that his wonderful idea led us into a no-exit trap, he left to search our friends’ bodies. I stood here for what seemed hours, then he came back. He carried them both without any difficulty: he’s always been very strong, I must admit this. But I always thought that he was all muscles and no brain. “Here. At least, they’ll find peace, now. So, you’ve found any clue to an exit?”, he asked me.
“A clue? If by clue you mean the heaviest and biggest rocks I’ve ever seen, yes, there’s lots. We won’t survive.”
“Kadr, I was serious.”
“Me too. We’re doomed, Ygnwush. We’ll never get out of this sewers.”
“Never say never, friend.”
He should have said “never”, instead. Because, as soon as he ended the word “friend”, a sting stabbed him and one of them took him. And then I was alone.
…Hm, well, I’m still alone. I’d like to go on this way, other than sharing the floor with those spiders.
Yeah, them. I can’t figure where they came from, but I guess it’s a bad place, where life is hard. They’re very resistant.
Uh, maybe I could call this "Story of a Glatorian and his friends: from hunters to preys". Nah, too sophisticated.
What was that?
Oh, I can hear them coming! Their hissing and chattering is very loud. So, they’ve found me. I suppose I might try to fight them with this rope and that girder. If I only could tear it off of the wall…
Nothing. I’ve spilled blood out of my hands to take it, but it was all vain. All is lost. I can’t fight those creatures with a rope. Well, farewell, world. I’ve loved you very much. And, King, I’ve served you with loyalty. May the blessings of the Elements save you and the City. Farewell, Circling Mountains, may your snows never melt until Everything ends. And, invaders, may you be cursed until you’re all dead, no matter which will be your death.
Farewell, everyone and everything. I must go now. I must go and fight, because that’s what I did for a whole life, and I don’t want to go down without fighting. I must go and fight them with this rope… A rope. They’ll laugh in front of me when they’ll see me with that in my hand. Do whatever you want, spiders, laugh, but I don’t want to fall into your talons. Therefore I’ll fight with this rope!
This rope. And that girder. Ah, at least there’s one good thing in this whole adventure: I’ve found a title to this letter. “Suicidal note” will be perfect.
Edited by The Renegade Emperor, Aug 26 2012 - 06:59 AM.