Dragon Tears

>!!WARNING!!<

Strong scenes of gore, blood, and violence coming up in the next few chapters.

(I'm really not joking. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of the things listed above.)

Rule number one. Do not speak. Even when spoken to.

Rule number two. Do not act human.

Rule number three. Do not get attached.

And rule number four. Do not trust anyone.

These rules kept Kayda alive. While others may have their bibles, she had these. They kept her from the hands of the Goddess. As one might think that with all this pain and suffering, they would be better off dead and in heaven then in the hell she was living in now. But that was the last thing she wanted. To be in the hands of the so called hypocritical Goddess of the world she lived in.

Even now, the rattle of the chains against the stone floor never deterred her resolution to never pray for mercy or beg for a better end. She knew all too well that no matter how hard you begged, how devoted you were or how strong your faith was, no Goddess would come to her rescue. You could only rely on yourself. But there was so little she could do except count the doors passing her by and her each step in the long stone hallway.

Relying on her instincts, she knew she was underground. It was cold but humid and no other light except that which was emitted by torches.

Eight doors. Twelve guards and one human in armor in front of her pulling her chains. He wasn't a guard but the slave handler that she had observed that last week. He brought the food and water to the cell she shared with six others.

He treated them like cattle. And every day, he dragged one girl out for slaughter and she never came back. There was nothing she could do. There would have been no point in her going first or trying to volunteer just to give the others more time since there was so little she could actually do, along with the fact she was treated differently. After all, she wasn't human.

"Keep moving you beast!"

All of a sudden she was yanked forward as the handler yelled something in a language she could not understand. As a result, she fell to the cold stone floor making him halt in his steps.

Looking back, he met a pair of emerald eyes that was filled with wild hostility and killing intent. There was almost no intelligence to be seen and all he felt was the pressure you would get from a feral animal you would see in the wild. And seeing this didn't make him flinch or back away. It only gave him a sense of power to be in control of such a feral creature. After all, the way she looked, she could be nothing but an animal at his mercy.

She was small, almost the size of a child. Her hair was knotted and covered in dirt and grime making the natural color unrecognizable. And while her skin was covered in filth, you could still tell that it was without a bump or flaw. She would have been a highly sought after slave if it wasn't for the fact that she wasn't human.

Protruding from her long hair were ivory horns which spiraled into an elegant curve. On her back was two lumps of scared flesh, where wings once sprouted. And then there was her tail which followed the curvature of her spine and peaked out from under the rags that covered her body. And on her neck, was a collar, that showed that this animal was a slave and had an owner giving it no rights as a living being.

She wasn't human. It was obvious. And it was disgusting.

Seeing the human's clear disgust, Kayda snarled in a low growl that was muffled by the muzzle covering her mouth like a wild animal which only resulted in him sneering and giving another sharp tug on the chains making her rise to her feet.

"I said, keep moving!" He shouted again and pulled her forward to continue down the dim hallway.

Things like this never changed. People will always show their disgust at the sight of her. She was nothing but an animal. A exotic pet for others to purchase then abandoned at will. How many years had it been? How many days, weeks, months, did she spend living this same routine? The same looks of disgust, loathing, lust that were targeted her way. It would be easier if she just gave in, then all of it would be less painful. So much easier to endure, but doing that was exactly the same as suicide. And that's why she couldn't give in just yet.

She had something to fight for. A promise to keep and memories to avenge. And if it meant she would turn into a dirty beast, a savage pet that would one day be put down, so be it. But not now.

The handler came to a sudden halt making Kayda stop in her tracks. They had finally made it to the end of the hallway where they stood in front of a large door. Two men in armor stood with their backs straight and their hands resting on a sword that hung on their hip.

Kayda didn't lift her head while silently observing everything out of the corner of her eye.

The handler exchanged a few words with the guards in the forgien language. One of them nodded then knocked on the large door.

It was quiet until a faint response could be heard. Getting permission to enter, the two guards opened the door resulting in a putrid scent suddenly assaulting their senses.

Kayda growled like a beast when the scent hit her nose. It was blood. And it hung so thickly in the air that she thought she would choke. It was putrid and rotten. Making even the handler silently gag at the stench.

Raised on high alert, Kayda's tail started to flick back and forth while her eye narrowed. But her pupils slightly shook at the scene inside the room that burned its way into her eyes.

It was a large stone room brightly lit with no windows. Inside was a man sitting in the corner. He was obese with fat rolls of skin hanging off his body and hair greased back out of his eyes. His skin glistened in the torch light with sweat and grease, reminding Kayda of a fat pig.

With the strong stench of blood coming from one side of the room, the rotten and grotesque smell came from the pig like man. The man was playing with something between his thick fingers but Kayda didn't pay much attention to it as her gaze was glued onto the source of the bloody smell.

On a stone table inside the room layed a girl. One of the girls Kayda had shared a cell with for six days. She was small and young with a pale complexion and a bony frame like most slaves. But slaves don't have holes in their bodies.

The girl laying on the stone table was hollowed out and pinned there like an insect on display. Her face wasn't touched, but everything else was cut and carved into a horrific display. From missing fingers and toes, to skin neatly peeled off and set aside. Almost everything was cut up besides the areas near the major arteries to prevent her from bleeding out too much. And from her collarbone all the way down to her pelvis, her skin was pinned back to her sides. There was almost nothing left inside her. Her stomach, liver, and anything else was gone. But that wasn't even the worst part of it.

Kayda watched the girl's heart beat a few last times before it stopped. She had still been breathing. He kept her alive for it all.

And when she looked back at the man sitting in the corner, she finally saw what he was playing with in his fingers before he put it in his mouth. It was an eye.