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Author Topic: The life of a laborer  (Read 727 times)

BatCon14

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The life of a laborer
« on: February 24, 2018, 07:38:32 PM »

As I re-strung my bow and looked into the distance there was a pit in my stomach, the colony we were about to attack had been killing our people and making them into slaves for a decade. I was part of the force that would end them. This colony looked heavily fortified, but our leader Mitsuya had a plan; on the south side of the mountain base there was a small compound in which they seemed to hold their slaves, we would attack there first and free our people. Once that was done we would assault the base through the mountain corridors in which they had mined out in order for expansion. The only thing I worried about was their "boomsticks" as most people in my tribe called them, they were a type of device the colonists had access too that could rip through organs and crush bones, take off limbs, and shoot as far as the eye could see. Our leader told us that we would overwhelm them in sheer numbers, I was not confident in this strategy. We sat around the campfire for a while longer discussing the plan and preparing for the battle to come, men and women alike strung bows, sharpened swords and arrow tips, put on war paint, and practiced throwing spears. Once it was time for the assault our people were ready, we all chanted our ancient war cry "Veni, vidi, veci (I came, i saw, I conquered). As we ran towards the base we started to rear to the right towards the small compound and with the speed of a hungry velociraptor. As soon as we reached the door we all crowded around it and beat it down we all rushed into the compound and expected to see our friends, all we saw were boomsticks mounted on tripods moving themselves. They sprayed metal ball after metal ball into our ranks and chaos reigned. Our front rows were decimated and the carnage was horrifying. I saw a boy presumably under the age of 18 get his arm blown off and writhe on the ground in pain while my comrades stepped on him trying to run away. It was pointless and several other people with boomsticks had blocked our exit. Most of us were dead within a minute, through the carnage I saw one man. This man was wearing a fur cap and had a long black coat on, he was smoking a cigar and smiling while watching our people get slaughtered. In anger I charged him, but his boomstick outmatched my bow. With two cracks of it I was on the ground close to death. I saw my enemies rifling through the bodies stealing personal belongings and taking people who were incapacitated too a small wood room, the person went inside with an incapacitated person and left with nothing. Finally I was picked up, they carried me to the building and I shut my eyes. Waiting for the cruel death that awaited me. I woke up around 4 hours later and saw in horror where I was. I was held in a small building with at least 24 other people, blood and other bodily fluids covered the floor. Bodies were everywhere and some people did not even have any access to beds. While I was looking around the door in front of me opened a short, but well built man wielding a metal stick walked in. He ordered everyone to get up. One man who was too sick to get up was beaten until you could see his skull. We were herded outside into the cold and I saw for the first time what the compound looked like. There was a small quarry in the middle and fields all around. Men and women alike were either mining, growing, eating, or dead. Bodies littered the outside area and the grass was turned red with blood. He demanded us all to start working and anyone who didn't was beaten into submission. The same man who was responsible for my capture walked in and I heard the short man say his name, I believe it was "Guts" but I cannot be sure. One prisoners lashed out at this "Guts" man but he was quick to react. Guts hit the man in the face with the butt of his boomstick and as the man was on the ground Guts took the end of his burning cigar and pushed it into the man's eye. Guts told the short man to leave him whether he die or beg for mercy. No one was to touch him, that man died two days later of starvation. Once the colder months arrived the place was even more hellish than originally, the colonists refused to provide us with some sort of heat and many people lost limbs to frostbite. The summer came once again and I feared I could not take this place much longer. I feel cold and I can no longer digest food, I eat and I throw it back up. I am starting to think that the colonists have gotten wind that I am extremely sick. Whenever someone is sick they are either left to die or hauled off to some unknown place, I don't know what to think or say and will try my best to remain a hard worker. I have just heard from my friend that I will be taken tomorrow morning. I fear this will be the end of my life. Send help...

Hello, my name is John the "short man" I have just found this pathetic slaves journal under his bed and decided to use this as a warning to any other tribes, I will make this extremely simple. If you attack our settlement you will be put up against the same conditions this man was out up against, and I promise you. You WILL have the same fate as he did. Being eaten alive by hungry wolves.

Alright story is over, thank you for reading and I hoped you enjoyed! I will be making a part two from the perspective of Guts and a few stories and other colonists. On another note I would like to thank you for reading again as I spent a lot of time on this. Be expecting a part two soon. Also I just recently went through this story and found a plethora of grammatical errors and mistakes. I believe they are all corrected but if not please tell me. Again hoped you enjoyed the story.

Sincerely, Bat
« Last Edit: March 05, 2018, 11:17:17 AM by BatCon14 »
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radie_storm

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Re: The life of a laborer
« Reply #1 on: March 04, 2018, 08:13:31 PM »

Look forward to reading them, it's an interesting perspective.
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