War Surrounded By Stars: Blood Can't Be Washed Off By Blood

Blood Can't Be Washed Off By Blood

David Ebenstein's

War Surrounded By Stars:

Blood Can't Be Washed Off By Blood

#warsurroundedbystars

© 2020 Vice Stanišić. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the copy right holder. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Cover design by „IS Art", Zagreb, Croatia.

1. A Tomb Full of Battered Souls

His consciousness returned to his body suddenly. He felt as if he had fallen from the sky and hit the ground. His head was splitting from the pain. He didn't know where he was. There were no stars or moon, only endless darkness, and an unimaginable stench. He tried to get up, but the short chains that were tied around his joints and neck fastened him to the floor. A feeling was passing through his body that he hadn't experienced in years - fear. His face was throbbing from heat. His back burned as if he rolled over burning steel. He turned his head to the other side and moaned from the pain that cut through his neck.

"Quiet!" said a voice angrily on the side. "Because of you, they're going to kill all of us!"

Not one spoken word reached him. He could not think clearly because of the fog that filled his mind.

He heard their steps and was overwhelmed with fear once again. He knew that he was right to be scared, but he wasn't sure what it was that he was frightened of. They entered the room, illuminating the space around them with torches. He wasn't able to turn his head towards them. He felt how all the prisoners, like rats fleeing from light, pulled away from him as much as their chains allowed them to.

"He's over there," He heard the voice of one of them.

There were four of them. The smallest of them walked with decisive steps, his body was tense, but he had compassion in his eyes.

The guards hovered over him, making room for the fourth member. Melbron bent over to get a better look at him.

"Araul," Melbron addressed the naked prisoner who was lying under his feet. "I'm here to help you."

″Look at yourself, you're a good one,″ one of the older prisoners mockingly told Gachun, the largest among the guards and the only one who had a beard. ″You're stupid, your mother should have left you in the snow to die like some kind of weak animal.″

Gachun approached him and stepped on the prisoner's palm with his foot. ″I've been putting up with you for too long,″ he said in a protruding voice when the prisoner moaned with pain. After a second, the sound of bones cracking was heard in the silent room.

"Get away from him," Melbron said, not looking up at the commander of the guards. Gachun gave him a dirty look and left the prisoner alone.

"Kill me," whispered Araul.

"I can't kill you,″ Melbron responded. ″Actually, I can, but I'm not allowed to. You're worth too much to us."

Araul watched him with bloody eyes, not knowing how to stop all the suffering. "Kill me..."