To the right, a young girl whom I recognize as ‘Pumpkin’, the young girl I saw get abducted on my first day, who can’t be more than eighteen has had her teeth shattered, her mouth a bloody mess of jagged edges. She sobs quietly, her voice a soft, pitiful whimper that seems to blend into the ambient sounds of suffering.
Next to her, a woman with gouged-out eyes leans against the wall, her face a mask of terror even in her blindness, or perhaps because of it.
Further along, another woman is missing both her legs, the stumps crudely bandaged with filthy rags. She sits in a pool of her own dried up blood, her face pale and drawn, the agony etched deeply into her features. She also has a swollen belly. Near her sits a motherly figure, her hair matted and tangled, she has many bruises covering her body but no visible open wounds.
Yet, the haunted look in her eyes speaks volumes about the horrors she has endured.
The remaining women are no less tragic. Some have arms twisted at unnatural angles, broken from the constant abuse. Others have had chunks of flesh torn from their bodies, leaving them with festering wounds that reek of infection. Their clothes are tattered, barely covering their malnourished frames.
One woman, with long, unkempt hair and a gaunt face, stares blankly at the ceiling, muttering incoherently. Another is covered in cuts and scrapes, her skin a patchwork of old and new scars, each one a testament to the torment she has faced.
This chamber is not just a prison; it is a gallery of suffering, each woman a testament to the cruelty and depravity of the creatures that held them captive. The air is thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and despair, a miasma that clings to my senses and makes my stomach churn.
The sight is almost too much even for me, a person who could easily watch any horror movie scenes back on Earth without batting an eye. Seeing this stuff in person, smelling the stench, feeling their sorrow, hearing their desperate wails hits way different than any movie could hope to replicate. The two experiences are simply worlds apart. Literally in this case…
Once I’m done taking all this miserable sight has to offer I begin walking towards the captives. About three of them have the mental capacity to recognize that someone is, in fact, walking towards them. The rest were so out of it, or just simply couldn’t care anymore that they showed no signs of recognition. Those three that did, didn’t glance at me but instead started sobbing and begging.
I heard a lot of ‘Goddess please have mercy!’ cries. “That’s enough, ladies. I’m here to rescue you.” I state calmly.
This finally earns the attention of five women in total, evidenced by the snap of their heads towards the direction from where my voice sounded. I can see a few wide, unbelieving eyes, others simply cry even harder than they were already.
I find it strange that I can’t find hope or joy in a few of their gazes, but rather sorrow and even a hint of resentment. After a bit of thinking I understand what is going on. They must be asking inwardly why I didn’t come sooner. A bit of an ungrateful attitude to have in this scenario if you ask me but I don’t feel right in judging them after what they’ve gone through.
“Is it really over…?” One asks, disbelief evident in her shaky tone.
“You tell me, lady. We’ve killed a war troll, three hobgoblins and over forty goblins. Are there any more threats I should be aware of?”
Instead of replying directly, she glances towards the motherly woman, the seemingly oldest of the bunch, who shakes her head before answering my inquiry, “that should be all… Mister Savior.”
Just from this interaction I can tell that she is the so-called ‘leader’ of this group, so I focus my attention on her. “Call me Quinlan. What’s your name?”
I can see tears forming in her eyes. Perhaps having this conversation she must’ve dreamed of every day during her captivity is making her overly emotional. “Please call me Emily. Thank you so much for coming to our rescue…”
“Don’t mention it. It is only natural for humanoids to stick together to eliminate such monstrosities from the face of our planet.” I know such would never happen, but I summon forth my good-guy persona for the ladies. They certainly need an optimist and not a realist like me right now.
“If only others thought as you do, then the world would be a better place…”
Yeah, I know from Ayame that the humanoid nations are at war with each other constantly. Furthermore, the fact that it took so long for the nobles to send a single adventurer in the form of Blossom to eliminate the goblin threat indicates that even amongst humans corruption and inner politics are rampant.
“We can only hope. Emily, do you know where the keys to your chains are?”
“Yes, I’ve seen them place it on the ground in that dark corner.” She points with her head and I follow her directions. It doesn’t take long for me to find my target. I use it to release the captives one by one. I hear many heartfelt ‘thank you’ and ‘Goddess bless you’ wishes in the process.
Five women can stand on shaky legs, two are crippled with amputated limbs, and the remaining three are completely unresponsive; they’ve completely retreated into their mental shells.
“Emily, help is on the way, they should be here in a few hours, my estimate is to be around five. In the meantime I want you to help me assess the injuries of the women. I will go to their kitchen area to bring you all a barrel of water, please wait in this chamber until I return.”
She nods with appreciation oozing from her entire being.
I walk out of the chamber to meet up with Ayame. She looks at me cautiously, examining me from head to toe. I can tell what she is thinking easily. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. If you are really worried, maybe a heartfelt goodnight kiss can help me sleep soundly at night.”