Cairin's Tale (rewrite)
Well, after saying I'd change the ending I decided to rewrite the entire thing.
So here it is. Formerly "some story of some sort", I present "Cairin's Tale" (still need a decent title, though)
Part 1
My name is Cairin. To everyone else, I'm just another Mud slave in Scrab Cake Factory #307.
That could change soon. The great rebellion began close by in Rupture Farms a few months ago. By now everyone knows about it, even the sligs talk about it. "Wanted: Abe" posters began appearing around the corridors not that long after the rumours.
Don't get me wrong, I want to be free (who doesn't) but the cost of failing is too high. I'd rather live a slave than be killed trying to be escape. Well, killed if I'm lucky.
There are 10 others I know who are trying to escape. There used to be 15, and we all know what happened to the other 5. You don't forget something like that; when a glukkon tries to make sure no onebody will follow a freedom fighters' example. They make sure you remember it, as a nightmare.
My story started when I was forced to work, over 10 years ago. I can't really remember much about that now, except pain and oppression. Still, I'll have to start somewhere.
Those five being captured seems as good a place as any, and a little before that, I was in trouble.
I knew there were condemned areas of the factory that sligs loafed off at. Everyone knew. Any mudokon's who found themselves on one of these was usually beaten. After all, sligs don't like being disturbed. The ones who didn't get beaten were either very quiet, or had the Hand of Odd protecting them not to be seen.
Anyway, I accidentally stumbled onto one of these areas as I was trying to avoid a big-bro slig who hated me (It's a long story). Ironically, it would have been better if he HAD got me. There were a group of sligs, laughing about beating one of my kind. I tried to walk by without bringing attention to myself, but they wouldn't just let me pass by without having some fun.
"What're you doing here, shit-bag?" said the biggest of them.
"N-Nothing...sir. Just going to clean the n-next hall."
"Then what'ya doing talkin' to someone worth a damn like me?"
"I... I'm sorry, sir." I was trembling. Despite the number of beatings I'd already received, which was too many to count, I knew this could turn into one of the worst. The slig looked back at his buddies, chuckled, then turned back to face me.
"Well, yer better try beggin' for mercy."
What followed wasn't pleasant. They decided to give me everything they could. Agony is all I could think of. Pleading seemed to only make them laugh, which stopped them hitting me for a while. After what seemed like hours, it ended. I collapsed into a quivering heap, unable to think from the pain.
Eventually I realised there was another voice around. I struggled to understand the words, concentrating on it in case it was talking to me.
It was the Big-Bro I was hiding from. My heart sank. He must have stopped the others so that I was all his. He hated me, why not get some revenge? I braced for another round of blows, but none came.
I risked opening my eyes. I was shocked to see that he was hitting the sligs and telling them off for slacking. He turned to me, and I cowered more.
"You tell anyone 'bout this, you'll be lookin' for your head in one of the meat vats, y'hear me, arsewipe!"
"Yes, sir", I said quickly.
"Why you still hear? GO!" As I stood up, he whacked me with his gun in my back. I almost fell, but stumbled and kept running as fast as I could, one of my legs throbbing with pain on each step.
Last edited by Adder; 08-20-2004 at 09:16 AM..
: Story/spelling edit
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It's still a great story!
