“No fucker is sticking Conan up on a cross! No way!”
He scoffed in indignation at this snivelling excuse-for-a-man that had been feeding him food from the bowl. Conan had growled at the fucker to release him from this restraint, tied by the ugly-ogres to this cross. The way the arsehole’s eyes had rushed back in terror to the iron gate locking them both in told enough of the spirit left in this prick.
“Can’t do that. With any luck I’ve earned myself a quick job.”
A quickie? What the fuck was the weakling on about? He earned THAT as well?
The arsehole explained. When first delivered into the ogres’ clutches, he’d fought back, best he could. After those first few days, though, he’d given up the fight. No point!
The HU-MAN’s had still put him through his daily beatings. Lashed till he passed out. Left hanging in the air till every sinew in his body was stretched beyond bearing. But finally he’d given up .. submissively he had let them crush every ounce of fight out of him.
“You will too …….”
The arsehole insisted in face of Conan’s indignant denial.
“You WILL ……”
No point in fighting, you couldn’t win. Submissively over weeks he’d shrivelled into the despicable excuse for manhood that had crawled out of the shadows and slobbered grateful against Conan’s thigh.
“Tomorrow .. at the sacrifice .. with any luck they nail me to the cross .. hands and feet. A massive stake hammered through the balls. The life-blood gushing free. Bleeding to death, fast.”
Conan sniggered. Disgusted. This fucker had got some death-wish? And what a fucking wish!
He failed to understand a man could will that on himself. Conan had seen men put up on a cross. But never had he heard of men yearning to be nailed. Or get a stake through the nuts! Willing himself to bleed to death?
“If the Lord of Chaos wills it .. if the damage is great enough …… dead before nightfall.”
Conan felt the grip on his leg give a shudder.
“You don’t want to be still breathing when night falls .. when Chaos descends.””
The weakling betrayed his cowardice in another shudder as he foresaw a fate he dreaded.
“ …. when the Lord sends his creatures out of the night. Sent to eat their fill.”
The cocksucking coward.
“Don’t fight them. The Lord’s servants. He’ll get you back “
It wasn’t in Conan’s nature to give in to force. He detested men like this coward. He’d lost everything that would call itself a man. But Conan’s predecessor insisted.
“I’ve been here. I KNOW. I tried standing up to them. Tried to be true to myself. Impossible …..”
He leant his head back against Conan’s thigh. The memories shivering through him. The terrors that had broken him again alive in his flesh.
“Defiance only brings out the worst in them. His servants will be on your back every waking moment. And they’ll not let up when you’ve passed out as well.”
Conan wasn’t a loser, he swore. He rejected everything this arsehole stood for.
“They can hurt.”
Conan knew. But he was MAN enough to stand up to that. And always would be!
Still the prick kept insisting. It was like he was working on the other side. Paid to get Conan to take the easy way out.
“If they’ve hurt you so far ….. you know nothing, stranger. They have not started on you yet …….”
Never, Conan insisted to himself, never would he give up fighting. Besides, he had his plan. He was going to get his own back on these swindlers. Give them more than they bargained for, a taste of their own medicine.
Then he was going to set out on his own. He was looking to find his own tribe of gullible morons. Set up his own terror shrine. No way was he planning to let these supersized fuckers win.
“Keep this up. This attitude of yours …..”
The coward looked like he really was trying to convince Conan of the best way to save himself.
“This stubborn defiance. They’ll get you back. The Lord of Chaos brooks no defiance. He’ll order you the slowest death …..”
Ain’t gonna come to that, sucker. Conan didn’t voice his thoughts. He’d not waste words on weaklings like this prick. But Conan knew the ogres and the conceited twins would be long cold before there’d be any talk of sacrifice.
“They’ll pay you back for your troubles. Viciously tortured up to your last agonised breath .. if you play them up.”
Hard to do when your neck is snapped, Conan mocked to himself.
“Get you back ……”
The coward was clutching at Conan .. like he was pleading with him to hear his words. Take heed of his warning.
“When your time comes .. they’ll order you roped to the cross. Helpless, no defence. They’ll have you tied, not nailed. No blood loss. Like now. Like this.”
The prick’s hands indicated Conan spread-out on his cross.
“Struggle all day .. knowing only helplessness.”
The hands on his leg clung on. It felt like this prick was desperate for Conan to believe him, take him seriously. Follow his advice. Words of warning. In his best interests.
“Night will fall. Chaos will descend. You still alive, still thinking you can be defiant, stay strong.”
YEAH, insisted Conan. If it came to that ….. he’d be fighting still. Not some snivelling coward like this prick slobbering against his leg. But it wasn’t coming to that. He’d be long gone .. running his own scam.
“Acting strong. But the Lord of Chaos is not to be fooled ……”
THERE IS NO FUCKING-LORD OF FUCKING-CHAOS, he wanted to scream. It’s a cheat. He wanted to laugh in this arsehole’s face. Swindlers! But he’d be wasting his breath. They’d got him conned.
“Brave. Strong. Till you hear them lurking .. His messengers .. still hidden in the forests .. scenting raw meat .. scenting prey. Helpless prey. Drawn like they can hear your terror pounding in your heart.”
Conan felt the shiver pressed against his leg.
“Out will come His messengers .. in the shape of panthers. His tigers will creep from the darkness. Snarling at each other .. warning the others off. Rivals for the prey. Fighting over the spoils. Tearing off a huge lump of meat from your thigh .. before a rival can fight them off.”
Conan felt his gulp of terror against his leg.
“Ripping off pieces of bloody flesh. And skulking away with their trophy. Gorging themselves. On your meat.”
The shudder against Conan’s thigh was real. Like this prick was experiencing his dread right now.
“Your screams of terror will keep the villagers awake all night. Shielding their children’s ears against the horrors.”
Conan felt the arsehole convulse.
“Knowing they were right. Better you than sacrifice one of their own.”
It wouldn’t come to that, Conan promised himself. These supersized fuckers were making no sacrifice out of Conan. Rotting long before it came to that.
“And by daylight .. if you’ve pissed Him off that much .. the Lord of Chaos will will that you still live .. vultures will pick over the raw flesh on your bones .. for days. Ravens will pick out your eyes. I’ve heard it has taken such fools days to die …..”
He held the bowl of water up to Conan’s determined face. He rejected it. He rejected the drink like he rejected this prick. And his words of warning.
“Word of advice, stranger. Best you do not fight …….”