Tribeca: Part 8

Ebon's blade had impaled the old hag, yet this witch was not dead. She laughed unnaturally as she hung, pinned to a tree. The blade Ebon had stabbed her with deteriorated before his eyes as the witch pulled herself off of the tree trunk. More laughter from behind Ebon startled him further as the first witch he had defeated broke off the branch he had launched through her skull. She too was now coming for him. Ebon quickly sat cross-legged on the forest floor and made several circular hand gestures while muttering an incantation. A red sphere engulfed him as he sat on the forest floor with his eyes closed. The witches charged the sphere but screamed in agony as they fell back from it, their flesh burning. Ebon had bought himself some time. He had enacted the protection charm, a powerful magic that surrounds its wielder and burns any that try and pass its borders. The spell often left the user drained and depleted of mysticism after it wears off. Ebon would be no different; being a novice in mystic arts still, he knew that he could not hold this enchantment forever or even for much longer. He had to come up with an escape. As he waited more witches came forth from the forest, varying in height and size, some old and haggard others young and haggard, none beautiful, all blood thirsty.

Ebon had disturbed their sacred sacrifice. They were in the middle of offering a young boy to the King in the Cliffs. The boy had been tied to a banquet table and surrounded with foods and raw meats. They had left two younger wiccas to stand guard over the boy. Ebon spied this as he was making his way towards the sea. He was tired, exhausted from the forests, as the men and creatures within it had drained him, challenging his every step. The boy was screaming and crying as Ebon passed. Without thinking he rushed the two Wiccas. The young witches were not prepared for him as he cut one in half and beheaded the other. He quickly untied the boy and told him to run. The ground trembled beneath them from the direction of the Cliffs, the King was coming. The boy, blinded by tears and fear, ran towards the cliffs and Ebon prepared to chase after him but was stopped by Wake's warning. The King of the Cliffs was not his fight, and he was in no condition to face him. He let the boy go. A moment later he keeled over in pain, clutching his side. As he looked at his fresh wound, he saw that a chunk of his flesh had been torn away. He turned to see a legion of witches and wiccas glaring at him angrily.

"You fool!" the witches spoke as one. "You have ruined the sacrifice, the King will need another! Another!"

A particularly decrepit woman, taller than the rest stood apart from the crowd of witches, outstretching her arm and pointing towards Ebon, her fingertips glowed black.

Ebon made himself ready to move but fell back over, whatever had struck him was now poisoning him. The trembling of the ground grew more violent and became more frequent. The witches moved in on him but before they could grab him Ebon threw down two small pebbles onto the ground around him. They exploded with a green mist. The mist itself was poisonous to any that inhaled it. Ebon ran through the mist, breathing it, but escaping his captors.

Trying to put some distance between he and the witches Ebon collapsed in a high tree top. The trembling of the ground had stopped. He heard a high pitch scream, it was the boy! Alarmed, Ebon looked into the direction that he had heard the voice, but the screaming stopped. He saw nothing but trees and a trail leading up to the cliffs. The trembling returned briefly but was stopped as he then heard moaning and lamenting from the witches; They had either been found by or confronted the King. Ebon could hear their inaudible begging pleas and weeping to the King. A deep evil voice was then heard, Ebon knew exactly whom it belonged to. The King was speaking, and he could be heard clearly.

"Find him, bring him to me, alive or dead." The King calmly commanded. It was then that Ebon ran, with the witches in hot pursuit.

Ebon could see no escape from his plight. His protection charm was wearing off, holes in the red sphere were forming then growing wider. Ebon was close to unconsciousness. There would be no escape. The wound in his side still bled heavily, his blood began to turn black as it flowed from him. The poison of the witches as well as the inhalation of his own green mist was overcoming him. Falling backwards onto the forest floor, Ebon could not hold his charm any longer. The night engulfed him as the witches rushed to claim their prize.


DaChase pummeled Wake's chained form. He did not care that Wake had been relieved of his weaponry and tied to a tree much like the one DaChase had been strapped to nights before. DaChase delighted in causing Wake pain. Wake would not scream.

"You thought you could escape me?" DaChase asked between the body blows he was delivering, ripping Wake's flesh. Simona was in the corner of the tent that had been erected around the tree Wake was tied to, laughing.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance! I will be collecting the boy shortly as well and you will be made an example of so that he knows not to betray me again!"

DaChase leaned in closer to Wake's left ear, speaking softly.

"Just know that I WILL have him! I will take great pleasure from him night after night as I make him do my bidding. He will scream my name as I show him the true measure of a man!"

Wake grunted and strained against his binding to no avail. DaChase laughed as he backed away from Wake. He twice slapped Wake hard in the face with his claws, raking long gashes across Wake's cheeks. DaChase then took a handful of rubbing salts and mashed them into Wake's wounds; finally he screamed. DaChase then spit in Wake's face.

"If only you had eyes so that I could rip them out!" He and Simona bellowed in laughter as they left the tent. DaChase called for his guardsmen.

"Prepare to return to the castle. Exercise extreme caution when moving this one, beat or maim him if you must, his well being is now inconsequential. Just do try and leave him breathing, even if barely."

With that Dachase and Simona were off on their way back to his castle. They laughed even harder as they listened to Wake's continued torture at the hands of DaChase's men.