After the War: The White Wolf of Doranelle (Fenrys Moonbeam)

Chapter 9: The Pit

Nia

A crack of a whip.

Another.

Nia shuddered, having to remind herself that she wasn't the one chained to a pole; this time.

It wasn't until the wagon was moving, pulled by a single horse, did Fenrys start to stir. His wrists were closely shackled behind his back, and the chain at his ankles prevented him enough slack to shuffled, not run. Not that there was anywhere to run to.

Where are we? Fenrys asked glumly, Nia sparing a glance behind her to see him look over the edge of the cart.

The Pit, Nia answered. Nia had delivered two meals to him everyday, and each time she ignored or denied every attempt of a conversation he had. But now....with the horrors around them....it was nice to here a voice that wasn't a evil or broken yet.

They were in the main area, no longer in the secluded private base. Here the first thing that hits you is the scent rock, blood, and roasting meat. A massive chamber opens was carved into a mountain, with dark rock walls and sky high ceilings. It was big enough that one couldn't see from the end of the chamber to the front. Stone pillars carved from the mountain itself boarded the side.

Like an underground city, there were buildings and stores. They traveled down the main road on the wagon as all around the loud, almost normal chatter of any town covered up the songs of agony from the slaves.

Signs pointing to bars and clubs. Street vendors shouting things to people, trying to get them to buy whatever they were selling. There were no laws and rules here beside basic ones accepted by everyone. An there was no mistaking it being in a mountain, with there being not an inch of sunlight, the dark walls and ceilings of the mountain looming overhead. Streets lit by lanterns that always stayed lit with magic, as was this place heated.

All around them, stalls and stores were up selling the hottest weapons, illegal animals, poisons, and people. And every single person here, was either a criminal or a slave.

Andrei and Amethyst sat at the front of the wagon, glancing behind to see that Fenrys was awake, but letting him take in the expanse of everything. There was only horror written on his face, especially as they passed by a stall with a tall pole, and tied to it was a young boy who couldn't have been over the age 8. A much older male was whipping the living day light out of him as he screamed and sobbed, begging it to stop.

Fenrys's entire face paled as he murmured, He's a child.

That's not even the worst, Nia said, the bustling of the people covering up the most gut wrenching screams.

Horror turned to disgust back to horror, as they passed by pleasure houses and auctions where children where being sold. And the twin scars on Fenrys's face were indeed gone, no trace of any blood and only clean clothes he bore. His hands were shackled behind his back, his ankles chained. But this was when the realization set in for most people, that every threat that the Furies made, they could make come true in a matter of hours or less.

They passed a sign in bold words advertising a pleasure house called Xposed, where loud music and talking could be heard coming from it.

Crimson sitting at the end of the wagon just had to say to Fenrys, "You might end up in a place like that."

Fenrys snarled, and Nia's heart clenched at the thought of him ending up there and being forced upon. She doubted that even he could laugh that off.

But Fenrys still scanned her up and down and said, "You're Crimson so and so, right?" She only had half her face covered with a black cloth. Her white braided hair and tawny eyes out on display. Witches were rare in this kind of business, and her eyes were a dead give away on who she was, so she never bothered with the strict rule of masks like Beatrice did.