[shaman]

7 Hell on oddworld

The industrialists had chosen to build this particular structure in a much disserted place, escape would mean death by starvation or by a scrab on the boiling desert that was scrabania.
The mine was surrounded by walls on all sides. Occasionally a guard tower rose up from the surrounding fence and several train depots were stacked up together at one side, where monorails carried the trains high above the ground.
As Sid, Marty and Archie were marched over the nearest dune, Sid saw that there was another structure, far smaller and looking very make – shift was a collection of run – down tin buildings, surrounded by a blotched and eroded wall.
A huge door opened in front of them. Clearly whoever was inside saw them coming. Inside was a small compound, with several of the caravans they had been in scattered here and there.
There were dozens of muds in large cages. Sid was felling so angry, but had to contain himself as the sligs were heavily armed.
They were lead into one of the larger structures, there were tiny stains of blood on the walls, causing even the always – positive Archie to shudder.
A vyker was sat at a desk, his skin was a pale lilac and he was wearing a ludicrously tight suit and monocle.
“Stop here”! The slig barked at Sid. “ ello Bernard, I got a new delivery”.
The vyker looked up from his work, and began glaring at the three mudokons in front of him squinting his tiny eyes into slits. Then he got up and walked over to them on four stumpy legs. Vykers towered over mudokons, but Sid tried to look un intimidated.
“Ah”... he grunted, “and is your cargo good for work this time”?
The slig spun round. “What’s that spose’ to mean”?
“Your last shipment was less than satisfactory; i would suggest actually feeding them properly, weak! That’s what they were Weak”! The vyker bent down so Sid could see his row of yellowing teeth. “Survived a day they did, we broke them in a day”...
He scuttled back to his desk. “Nevertheless, i suppose we had better get down to business”.
Sid felt sick to think of what was happening in this place, and watched as the slig and vyker exchanged words and their captor departed with the filthy moolah he had been paid to take a creatures freedom.
Now finally Sid, Marty and Archie were out of that slave caravan. But now a worse place was greeting them.
“Listen i know this is a bad time to ask”. Marty whispered to Sid. “But what happens now”?
Sid had no answer to this, they were both sat in a cage outside with about twelve others, it was terribly cold. Scrabania was infamous for being a bad place to spend the night. Tomorrow was coming all too fast; it was terrifying to think about what might happen when they were all taken to the mines; Would they ever see home again?
“Sid”.
“What”? Marty looked around shivering, to see if there were any guards walking around.
“What are we gonna do”?
“I don’t know”. Sid whispered; he had no solution, hell he didn’t even know what they would do once they were banished, Let alone where they would end up after being captured and enslaved in a loathsome mine hundreds of miles from home.
A train occasionally pulled up at the depot. Its screeching tracks making it impossible to sleep. Sid looked at the train pull into the tallest part of the mine and then, moments later, depart on its monorail into the desert and out of sight.
How he wanted to be on board.
“Penny for your thoughts”? Sid heard someone say, realising it was Archie he turned and stared back into the sky.
“gonna be hard tomorrow” Archie whimpered. “Best get some sleep”. Sid nodded weakly and leaned back against the cold bars, finally drifting off.
“Wake up you slogs”! A slig shouted banging a truncheon against the bars, Sid opened his eyes. It was barely morning. The sun was begging to creep over the horizon and the roars of distant scrabs made him grateful for the high walls.
“Stand up dammit”! The slig bawled. There were about twenty of them in their cage so it was very cramped.
“You do know how to stand don’t you? Or do i have to shoot you now? GET UP”! Soon everyone was up and the gate was unlocked. Sid stood next to Archie, who amazingly was the only one not looking terrified.
“Nervous”? He grinned.
“Yeah”. Sid mumbled.

All the mudokons were taken from their cage and arranged into crowds where a monstrous vyker sized them all up.
“I am Isaac”. The vyker shouted. “Master guard of this establishment here, now you are all new, so let’s sum up”.
He stared Sid right in the face for a torturous moment before continuing.
“If you shut up and tow the line, you might just be a credit to your species!, such as it is. But if you cross me I will personally see you flayed to within an inch of your life”! Sid gulped as he heard this, then they were all marched off towards the mine. Isaac was true to his word, and several mudokons were flogged for not following orders.
Now Sid was terrified, Marty was in a different group and because he was shorter than most of the other muds he couldn’t find Archie. It was hard to see as the floodlights kept prancing over them and the noise of the sligs screaming was terrible.
It was something he would never be able to forget.
The journey across the small patch of ground towards the mines were very trying, scrabs were a common occurrence in scrabania. (Obviously) and the ground was littered with the bones of victims as their guards had obviously decided to flee... slaves were cheap indeed.
Finally theory reached the entrance to the mine. A large threatening looking gate in front of them opened and the sligs pushed them all in.
It was a large flat piece of ground, the same colour as the desert outside. Smoke was rising from countless chimneys and hundreds of structures accepting mine carts from the tunnels below. All the mudokons were stood in a make – shift courtyard; surrounded by monstrous big – bro sligs with remorseless looking weapons.
Sid coughed; the air was thick with fumes and dust from the drills.
“Ok shut up”! Came a voice from the front a glukkon walked out in front of them all – notably a big cheese with a smug look on his face, and flanked by several sligs, Archie winked at Sid.
“i am the CEO of this mine, Sir to you” ... The glukkon began. He sounded cold and calculating ... and sadistic.
“Now believe me it’s not as though I wanted to be stuck with you ... what a bunch of slog baits, but bad breeding is not my concern”. There were no other groups in sight and this place was huge. “How will I find Marty”? Sid whispered under himself.
“YOU GOT SOMTHING TO SAY”? The CEO indicated to Sid and all the other muds looked at him.
“Uh”
“Speak up”! The CEO smirked.
“No ... no nothing”.
“What was that”? The CEO smiled as sligs began descending into the courtyard.
“Nothing sir”. Sid whimpered.
The CEO gave Sid a long painful stare, which Sid was sure, would lead to something more unpleasant before he continued his speech.
“You are here until your employment is over; this is the Magog cartels laws”. He took a swig of brew and then set it on the table behind him, Sid was now aware of how thirsty he was.
“You work a reasonable day for accommodation, food and drink”. The CEO smiled savagely “you will be in the tunnels for most of your days, starting from now ... get going”.
“Move it”! Several big bro sligs were shouting. It was awfully cramped and Sid was almost trampled by dozens of his taller fellows as they scrambled to escape the sligs, they were led down to the shaft and packed in by the threatening efforts of their guards.
“Surely we won’t be starting now”? Sid asked Archie.
“i dunno”. Archie grunted.
With a creak the shaft started to descend, Sid looked up until the burnt pink shy had vanished from sight. At last they came to a large cavern, it was dimly lit and several greeters were standing expressionless at the exits, and there were several other mudokon groups being sorted into different tunnels.
“Move it come on” the nearest dirt – covered slig was bellowing “helmets here pickaxes there ... move”! It was disorientated and it took him a while to in where the slig was pointing.
“Move now ... faster”!
A whip cracked over the group and thin shrieks of pain came from nearby. Sid’s heart jumped and he scrambled to get a pickaxe and a mining helmet from. Before he and Archie were hurried to one side with the other workers. Some of the other mudokons were looking like shadows, scarred and downtrodden.
Sid was heartbroken just to look at them.
They were given something to eat and drink (finally) and told where everything was; apparently they were here to mine diamonds that were natural features of scrabania’s ancient bowels. Sid was barely listening; he was in a trance, this could not be happening. Would this be his fate, to die serving the magog cartel after fifteen admittedly uninteresting years?
The concept was suffocating, but the slig’s threatening looks brought Sid to his senses.
Soon Sid found himself in a tunnel. A dark depressing tunnel glinting with diamonds, the noise of nearby drills and machinery, the terrifying cracks of whips and even worse ... gunfire, and the knowledge that he would be doing the same repetitive task of beating rocks into oblivion with his pickaxe and shovelling his findings into mine carts.
The next few days were agonising, though some of the other muds had told him that the first few days were the hardest.
During the time he was on the surface, Sid spent most of his time outside, as the sight of sunlight and stars was a rare gift these days. Isaac’s threat was enforced more strictly than ever. Even talking of escape was basically the end of you, but the days of brutalisation made it hard for people not to talk of freedom ... or revenge.
Weeks passed. Sid had received several scars on his arms and several bruises; he was on the surface now in the canteen and for the first time Sid was scared that like so many other he too would eventually stop eating. He had sat down to his pitiful lunch when he was approached by a guard; people began looking his way to see what he had apparently done wrong.
“You” The slig grunted. “I wanna talk to you; I’m not impressed by your work”.
“i’m eating” Sid replied blankly, he was in no mood for this after a long day.
The slig snarled and tipped Sid’s plate onto the floor with a crash.
“It’s just all of you isn’t it”! The slig snarled rounding on Sid, “Every one of you a punk ass”.
He spat on the floor.
Sid clenched his fists, his better judgment vanishing very quickly.
“i hadn’t finished that” he snarled.
“Well I’ve finished with YOU”! The slig retorted. “Lazy arrogant little –“
The slig reached for a whip at his waist, and advanced on Sid. Sid took as step forward and by a gut reaction, without thinking about it. He punched the slig in the eye with all his might.
The slig howled as he was blinded and began thrashing out with his tiny green fists, hitting Sid in the face. Everyone was cheering and throwing their plates at the fight, Sid grabbed the Slig and wrestled him to the floor but the slig kicked out with his metal pants causing a stabbing pain to shoot up Sid’s leg.
Jumping backwards, Sid raised his fists and the slig jumped screaming at him with his whip flailing.
There was nothing for it, Sid just grabbed his mug which had been knocked over by his attacker and smashed it on the slig’s face, then he grabbed the hateful thing and without any thought head butted him.
The slig flew backwards right over the rail behind him, and fell about ten feet into the canteen below with a thump, his arms spread and not moving, evidently knocked out.
The muds on the floor below cheered as other guards came in to quell them. Sid knew what was going to happen, a casual looking mud in the corner watched a guard come through the door and without a moment’s pause ... threw a table at him.
More cheers. And in a matter of a second the whole canteen dissolved into sprawling fist fighting – screaming chaos. Everywhere mudokons were clubbing guards and guards were clubbing mudokons, windows were put through (or had people put through them) and there were slaves and guards alike being thrown from the upper levels.
Sid looked at what he had done and the joy in breaking the routine filled him, he stood there laughing, cackling like a mad man as tables, chairs, fists, plates, sticks and knives filled the air. The mob of estranged mudokons even broke through the doors to the level Sid was on and began ransacking the kitchen, the kitchen staff were no match for them and soon they were all being beaten over the head with pots and pans or being thrown unconscious from their posts.
An alarm rang and a fire started burning in the corner, the sprinklers turned on and the canteen was utterly destroyed, as if by some weirdo spell the place had been tipped upside down, graffiti had appeared on the walls and the noise was unbelievable, the guards were shouting in anger and fear as the mob of slaves poured over them like water.
After about an hour or two (seriously!), the riot had dispersed, the canteen was utterly sacked. The kitchen was destroyed (as were its staff) the canteen on the upper and lower levels was looted and destroyed in every respect, and broken glass, unconscious bleeding rioters, sprinkler water, guards and even more amusingly: loincloths were littering the ground.
A thousand years of hate fear and oppression had burst forth over this canteen buy hundreds of mudokons all in just over two hours.
And all the while Sid sat, soaking wet on the top level Still chuckling to himself.