[I've gone and totally revamped the first two chapters (actually, I'm on chapter nine and have rearranged everything), but you don't have to reread them if you don't want to. I hope this version is slightly more improved than the last one. xD]
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A week passed. Vula had completely recovered and was doing her chores as usual. In spite of that, she was still very sore as she worked, and for a while her muscles would feel stiff and heavy. She’d not forgotten Drog’s words and was determined to get revenge if he had lied. She scrubbed away some graffiti from the wall, ignoring the poster near her with the rocket going through the Mudokon’s head. It wasn’t exactly tasteful, except maybe to Glukkons. A lot of strange things were tasteful to Glukkons.
A buzz from behind startled her. “Hey slave,” came an unfamiliar voice. Vula knew just what they were. Sligs.
Vula bit her tongue, and slowly turned her head to eye the ground, the pair of sligs armed with rifles and eager appetites for pain.
“Yer being reassigned. So come with us!”
The butt of a rifle cracked her across the shoulder and she yelped, twisted around by the force of the blow and was knocked to the ground on her stomach. That had been the worst pain she’d felt in some time, and she curled, clutching her shoulder. Her only comfort was that the sligs hadn't hit her as hard as they could. It was glancing blow.
It began to swell, but the sligs picked her up and dragged her by her arms down the hallway. They took the long way, jerking her shoulder intentionally, knowing the damage they’d done. Vula did not cry out again, until she was tossed across a break in the narrow floor and rolled to the ground, where she collided with the mechanical legs of another slig. She needed to tell the other slaves to wash the floor better.
The rancid breath of a slog infiltrated her nostrils and she gagged, pushing herself away. The slog followed her, sniffing her face in a neither friendly nor unfriendly manner. It was just sniffing. Vula recognized the smallish slig immediately, although she only caught sight of his tentacles and rifle. As the other sligs left, she rolled to her feet, absentmindedly, pushing her hands out to get the sniffing slog to give her some room. Fortunately, it did.
Vula found that, as she got to work scrubbing something off the floor, Drog ignored her completely. He flopped over and took a nap, so she continued scrubbing with the cold water left in the bucket until the odd mess on the floor faded. The slog also fell asleep on its feet, leaving her alone. She waited, pretending to clean other things in the area, rubbing her shoulder in pain. It felt dislocated somehow and she grit her teeth, avoiding use of it for awhile.
She didn’t know how long she remained there until in the corner of her eye, something peculiar approached. He was tiptoeing in a very comical manner, and she couldn’t help but peer over. The Mudokon looked odd compared to her, a different shade. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked rather tired. As he grew closer, he initiated eye contact with her. There was something urgent about his demeanor, and Vula stared at him.
His skin color, to her surprise, was bright blue. There was something oddly familiar about him, and Vula cocked her head to mouth the name hanging on her lips.
“Hello,” he whispered, gesturing frantically towards himself. She cast a glance at Drog and the slog before quietly sneaking after him. He brought her around the corner, where she spotted something that made her heart leap. "Follow me!"
Birds. Small birds, cluttered near the wall. Their eyes on the Mudokon before her. The stranger began to chant, pressing his palms together and focusing. The birds took flight, spiraling and forming a perfect circle. What seemed to be pure energy began to envelope them, and the birds themselves disappeared into it, forming a thin, bright white sliver, as though the air itself had been ripped in two. So this was the terrorist Abe. Now it was time to get out of here.
Meanwhile, Drog had awakened and was running in circles, head spinning as he cried out for help. Vula paused, staring back at him. The stranger, losing some of his concentration, glanced impatiently at her. When the slig approached, he nearly stopped entirely.
“Wait!” Drog yelped, clutching his head because of the light. “Help me out, 'ere!” The slog was behind him, trembling. Oh right, Drog.
“Do somethin’!” The stranger seemed to be in pain. Drog unhitched his pants and mask and crawled after her, and the slog chased them, all three of them, much to the stranger’s dismay, leaping into the sliver before it closed behind them – and before he could do anything about it. Oops.
--
Somewhere far away, the world was silent. There was no rumbling of machinery, no smell of pollution. No grime covering the ground. The sky was no longer black. In fact - there was no sky at all - at least, what could be seen. It was like a massive cave. The entire world seemed to be shades of green. The air was fresh, cool, and pleasing. What few sounds there were came in the form of birds and, very faintly, some kind of moaning, as though something were calling to the gods. There was dense foliage, moss, and soft dirt covering the ground. For a moment, there was a pause. Then, as though the air itself had been torn apart, a sliver of light appeared very close to one of the walls. Three figures leaped through it, landing in a heap on the ground.
Vula remained seated, rubbing her head. “Where are we?”
Sooz began bathing Drog in a wet blanket of slobber, wagging its tail frantically as Drog pushed it off. He looked around, “Ya think I kn-- Oh...” He peered upward, then around, lungs quite unused to the clean, fresh air. He choked, and gasped for air. “Ho-- hack.. uh.” He caught his breath, glaring sidelong at Vula, who was staring at him. “What?”
She blinked, tilting her head. “You... are the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” she confessed.
“I know right?” he replied. “This is the Monsaic Lines, I think.. and uh.” Sooz began to growl, backing up against the pants-less slig. “I think we’re being watched.”
A shrill whistle was their response. The three of them scooted closer together, whimpering as around them, Mudokons unlike anything they had ever seen approached them. They had the typical skin color, but they were covered head to toe with various tattoos and other markings. And they looked rather angry.
There were many more whistles, as the Mudokons seemed to be communicating.
“What are they saying?” Drog hissed.
“I don’t know!” she hissed in reply. “How should I - “
One of the Mudokons stepped forward. The feathers on his head were very dramatic, but not overdone. He spoke, but no longer was he speaking in the musical tone of before.
"You...disgusting...intruder..."
“We could tolerate another one of you slaves, ” another growled. “But when you bring a disgusting soldier from the other side... it is an insult!”
The crowd of tribal Mudokons began to mutter something, stepping closer, and it was then that Vula, terrified, pulled herself to her feet. "Wait!" Vula fought for words. "He's ...er..." Well, he wasn't exactly her friend, but she had to come up with something. "He helped me get out of here."
Behind her, slig and slog huddled together, both of them humiliated and outraged at their vulnerability. Sooz, terrified into bravery, began to slobber and growl, trembling with rage and defense of its friend. The Mudokons backed away, and at first the trio thought they had made progress.
Instead, someone else appeared. At first, they thought he might have been a moving tree, but as the crowd parted they realized what it was. Vula, who had never seen him before, felt a stirring somewhere within her, and she dropped to her knees. The other Mudokons, who had backed away, had done the same. The masked shaman raised his staff, muttering some incantation as he waved it over the three. Only the slog continued to growl beneath him. But it was very quiet and fringed with a whimper.
There was silence. Big Face lowered his head - or face - over Vula, who averted her gaze and did nothing. The silence was so thick that everyone thought it might burst.
“You’re a female..” his tone did not seem surprised at all. “I’ve been expecting you.” Around them, a gasp filtered through the crowd of Mudokons. “Stand up. Bring your friends.”
The aggression did not vanish entirely as they stood. It was replaced with a grudging respect. Those Mudokons would've killed her hadn't the Big Face shown up. Sooz had already been standing and Drog could only crawl on his hands. Both of them remained very close to Vula and attempted to ignore the surrounding tribe members. Sooz was very close to Drog, who was underfoot and Vula had to make some effort to not trip over him.
Vula didn't know how the Big Face had known she was a girl at a single glance. But he seemed like the kind of guy who just knew everything, so Vula kept her mouth shut and followed him.
Vula followed Big Face through what seemed like a cave. In fact, they were not in a forest of all, but an intricately carved cave. The three of them stared with open mouths as one by one the tribal Mudokons fell away. Big Face paused at a hut. It was woven tightly with reeds and moss, it seemed, and had a very earthy smell to it. There was a large hole at the top, and smoke billowed out of it. It smelled peculiar but was not in any way harmful. Drog sneezed, and hesitated. The shaman urged him on, and after a moment he crawled inside with the rest of them.
“You are one of many slaves that have come here from Rupture Farms. I imagine you have never seen a place like this... Vula?”
Vula gulped. “...No... I haven’t.” She didn’t ask how he knew her name. Instead, she asked. “Why were you expecting me?”
“Not now. First you must rest.” He slid behind her, expert fingers finding her tender shoulder and jerking it back into place. Vula whimpered, but the pain faded instantly and Big Face was before her again. “Normally we do not take kindly to Industrial types..” He eyed the slog and slig. “But we do understand honor. Your friends will be under constant surveillance, but you will be rested with the other slaves until morning. Now then.”
There was no order given. A heavily tattooed Mudokon stepped inside. He was stocky, particularly compared to the rest of the undernourished Mudokons, and looked downright intimidating. He looked serious, and made no eye contact. Vula followed him outside, but as soon as Sooz and Drog followed, their path was blocked. Two Mudokons stood in their way, spears intentionally separating Mudokon from Slig.
“No industrials beyond THIS point,” came the hissing reply of one of the guards.
Vula turned. “No wait - he’s with me!”
But for once Drog did not react. He shook his head, tentacles moving as he spoke. “It’s okay. Me n' Sooz will hang out somewhere else okay?”
Vula frowned, eyes lifting to glare at the guards, but her threat went unsaid.
The tattooed guard huffed noisily. Twitching, she sighed and turned after him. She didn’t get a chance to check on the two who had somehow become her 'friends' in the span of a few moments.
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