Chapter 42: Mercy
The dark hallway smelled of rot and dank, like potatoes long gone to seed. Damp, filthy stones made it hard to run with her soft boots. Oz had to keep a hand to the wall, tracing her path into the slaver's pit. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and fear. Voices called from the darkness, hands pale and skeletal reached from the bars.
Sunken faces barely gave her a passing glance. A soft glow from the candles in the wall were useful, illuminating the path through the darkness. Her heart ached for the beaten victims in their cages. She knew that she had to help them, but she didn't know how. She was just one person, and there were so many of them. She took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.
"I will get you out, please just wait one moment." She whispered, her voice echoing against the stones.
WHINE WHINE
Her newly pointed ears wiggled at the sound, the sound of a whip cracking on flesh. Creeping away from the light of the candles, she joined the shadows as she creeped towards the cracked door at the end of the hall.
WHINE!
CRACK CRACK
WHINE WHINE!
She creeped closer until she was able to peer through the crack of the door, her body tight to the wall. Another loud crack and whine, a golden beast was being tortured as it was held up in the air. Chains tied to every part of its body so it couldn't run, a heavy muzzle holding its face still.
A long cat-like tail whipped in fury within the shackles that held it in place. The golden fur was stained with red. The beast's body shook as the bullwhip snapped into it again, cutting a streak of red into the brilliant fur.
Another shuffle and Oz's eyes narrowed at the handler of the whip. A fair faced blond she-elf in scandalous leathers. If it wasn't for how angry the woman was, she would be rolling her eyes at such a cliched sight. Instead Oz felt nothing more than pure rage at someone abusing an animal. Especially an animal that had no way of fighting back.
Rage bubbled through her, the air suddenly dropped in temperature. She swore she saw her breath fog in the air. She wasn't thinking straight as she suddenly kicked the door hard enough it shattered. The moment her foot hit the heavy oak and metal door, it permafrost.
With her strength behind it, it atomized into the air. Oz paused as the door shattered, shocked at her own anger and strength. But her attention was quickly snapped up as the she-elf shouted in shock.
"Get her!"
The handler's words were answered by the snarls of the guards as they charged out of the darkness. Three guards fell into a crouch, all of them wielding long spears.
"You!" The handler yelled at Oz. A snap of her fingers and the guard at her side raised their spear. But the sight of the abused beast in front of her made her blood boil.
"Why would anyone treat a creature like that? How about I tie you up in those chains and let you struggle!"
"Get the damn whore already!" The she-elf screamed, caught between covering herself in a robe and trying to display her sadistic costume.
In such a state of mind, Oz wasn't thinking rationally. Any other time she would carefully go over her options, much like when she 'fought (more like overwhelmed) the Black Tigers. Right now, she was little more than raw instinct. The sight of the abused creature whining in the chains, dripping blood and other fluids. Its eyes met hers, sparkling cornflower blue. A desperate, intelligent look.
Guards flew at her, Oz simply slammed her glowing fist into the floor. It was like a supersonic boom went off, the ground cratered. The guards flew back and into the walls, knocked out by the crack of their helmeted skulls against the bricks. Oz glared back at the handler, and even behind the rage and the fury she felt, her mind screamed at her that this wouldn't be the best idea.
"I'd really recommend not standing against me."
She growled as the ground crunched under her fist. The elf eyes wide with both rage and fear. But a deep growl in her chest told her to stay the course; the guards would recover and come after her.
She turned to face the wall behind her, not quite able to believe the extent of her own power. With a shout she punched forwards, slamming her fist into the wall. The wall splintered into an incredible number of pieces, the force turning the small corridor into a mess of bricks and dust. It was enough to distract the coming guards as they fled from the collapsing room.
Oz stepped over the shards of stone that erupted from the ground and scooped the beast into her arms. The chains and straps snapped like cobwebs as she gave a hard tug. Its eyes still locked on her in a mix of pain and appreciation.
Without thinking or stopping to think, she grabbed the whining beast and turned out. As she ran, she threw her hand over the caged walls, shattering the metal with the icy touch of her finger tips. With the ruined hallway and the destroyed pens, now empty from their escaping victims she fled.
The guards in the streets nearby quickly gave chase to the fleeing victims, their spears at the ready. Thankfully more kindhearted market goers were protecting those who fled for protection.