The Malformed Realm is an incarnation of hell in it's most abstractly horrifying form.
A single village of children think they are the only inhabitants beside the upper class society they provide sustenance to. The elements of nature are the gods th...
Orlando could feel the air grow cold. They had started their gradual ascent towards the hills. The canyon bed elevated little by little and they were now taken through a path that transitioned between the red rocky desertic plain into a stone scattered hilly terrain. Orlando had to make frequent course changes according to the amount of stones and other obstacles that lay in their path and it was getting a little strenuous for the mules to keep delivering the same amount of energy, he could sense. He glanced behind him to see that the sun was on its to disappear beyond the horizon.
"We are stopping, the mules are getting exhausted," he said while simultaneously pulling the ropes and bringing them to a halt.
"Is it fine to stop here?" Beatrice asked, looking around, a little worried to retire in such a foreign and unfamiliar place.
"I doubt anything worse than what has already happened can conjure on the same day," Orlando said while releasing the mules from their harnesses. "If what Jonathan said is the case, there shouldn't be any villages anywhere remotely close. We have successfully delayed our arrival to the mountain village. I think instead of continuing shortly after a meal, we should spend the night here. It would be cool for a change, cooler than the nights we are used to." He smiled. "But perhaps someone should keep an eye on everyone and the surroundings while we all rest. I can't turn a blind eye to how we were deliberately spied on our last venture by that brat, and how he threatened us for it! There's no telling there's not anymore of them lurking in the shadows right this very moment."
"Orlando. You cannot skip sleeping," Grace reprimanded. "It has been a tiring day and especially after everything you've done, don't feel the need to stay awake. Moreover, they clearly fled away, being scared by whatever the girl mentioned. I don't think they would follow us after that."
"Grace is right, you know," Beatrice backed her up. "You should listen."
Orlando looked at both of them one by one, then sighed. "Well, fine!" He went behind the wagon and took out the food supplies.
They ate as the sun set into a brilliant vermillion ocean, if only for a moment, as soon after, the ultramarine engulfed it from all around. The hovering entities of doom were back, their reddish dull glow doing the littlest to ease them, if not quite the opposite. It was an eerie silence all around and sharply cold. Not too much, but significant.
"The nights here are definitely colder," Jonathan said while bringing out the hay pillows and mats for sleeping.
Mary yawned. "Brother, could you bring me some water?"
He looked at her and nodded. "Sure." He got up.
"There, in that barrel. It is still full." Orlando pointed.
He watched Jonathan rummage through the numerous items before getting to the barrel.
"Orlando!" he called alarmingly.
Orlando quickly got up and went to his side. "What? Too heavy for you to lift?" He snickered.
"Quite the contrary. It seems to be empty."
"What are you saying?" Orlando was stupefied.
"See." He opened the lid of the barrel to give him a clearer view.
"There is only so little of it left at the bottom. But how?" Orlando muttered, unsure of how this could be possible.
Suddenly his eyes spotted something. A pebble in the corner of the barrel. He flitted his eyes to the side to see a small hole.
"Those bastards!" He slammed his fist on the wall of the wagon.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
