The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Old Woman, Chapter 8

All around, the trees show off in earned pride the light of their leaves. A bright light blue-green hue bleeds into everything, from the grass to Max, from the tree trunks to the tunics, from the cold steel of Silke's knife to Nana's skin. In another scene, the colors would be mesmerizing, beautiful. But the violence here makes it sick, vile, otherworldly in a horrendous fashion.

Nana stands several yards away, hands tied behind the slim body of a youthful tree. Like us, her mouth is stuffed with a cloth. Her eyes are covered with similar material, her redundant spectacles pushed to the top of her head. She looks around, her head whipping to and fro, her few strands of hair sticking to her skin. Her elegant dress is gone; Nana is left only in her previous rags.

Beside her stands Silke, something wild lighting up her dark eyes. The blade in her hand, a simple dagger, rests at her side. The intricacies in her tunic are bold in the Everglow's grace, unapologetic tendrils circling and spiking all over. The cuffs hold a vibrant red as if dipped in a rich red wine. The shade of it even cuts through the tint of the surrounding foliage. She wears that insane smile again, wide-eyed and toothy, as Pelle approaches her. He carries something small in his hands, a dark leathery mound. His face is covered by a similar substance, a grotesque mask. A club is tucked under his arm.

Bastard. With a grunt and another test of strength, I try to free myself from my bindings. Something gives, just a little. I pull against the ropes again, and I'm certain it is not bones or flesh loosening.

"Don't," a boy whispers behind me, though I can't tell which it is. "They'll get mad."

Part of me sympathizes with the boy. For a moment, my heart tells me that to protect him and his siblings, it would be best to let whatever is about to happen happen. But such thoughts are born and die in the same breath. They are the thoughts of a defeatist, a coward, the weak-willed.

Silke accepts Pelle's gift and holds the leather up to her face. A wind blows through, delivering a chill that cuts to my bones. The leaves rustle in the light gust, an audience chattering before the show. The mask, like Pelle's, looks like dead skin hanging wrinkled, loose, mummified. My stomach churns at the sight, but the cloth between my teeth convinces my dinner to remain in my gut. Shadows dance in the background, chasing each other between the distant trees.

"O! Lord Scommortod, the one true eternal Novhina, join us now as we congregate to do your bidding," Silke exclaims, arms outstretched and disgusting face to the sky. Pelle stands opposite her, mirroring her image. Nana, poor confused woman, waits in the middle.

She pauses for a long moment, only the sound of the wind in the trees filling the space. In the farthest stretch of trees behind the fanatic, a shadow stops its game and stands still. It watches the spectacle, curious or possibly delighted. Something stretches out, a limb like a leg, and then another. It approaches. Ice fills the depths of my soul, and that feverous fight drains out of me in a rapid release. My muscles loosen against my restraints and I rest back on my heels. Numb, terrified, I resign. Max still rages next to me, unaware.

"In your righteous name, we present to you another sacrifice," Silke continues. "We offer unto thee a life tainted by magic. As with our recent tribute, the unholy gift runs through her veins. Accept this woman, as you did the girl, and bless us with another night of your glorious presence!"

Pelle takes hold of his club. His eyes glint with a devilish grin and purposeful menace. His arm reels back, arcing high near his ear and falling in a blur. The hard thing strikes into her side. Her muffled cry is too much for my heart to take; my eyes overflow, a new tear for each blow she receives. The children wince behind us. Max, ever the protector, rages on to no avail. Silke issues a high and mad laugh into the cool air. Pelle moves around, landing a new hit on a different area of Nana's body below the shoulders.