SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
He broke twigs every few meters as he sprinted. He jumped over glowing moss-covered tree roots, shielded his mouth from non-glowing insects, and ducked under low-hanging thick branches. After running for what felt like an eternity, he heard voices conversing in the distance and slowed his pace.
Voices, huh?
Heart beating out of his chest, he strained to hear the voices as he trudged onward.
It's getting louder… louder… Here.
Behind a bush, the voices were at their loudest. He spotted a camp lit by a fire, with a cage at the border of its light. Three masked men sat around the campfire, holding green bottles that swayed in their hands. His gaze shifted to the men patrolling around the camp.
One… Three… Four. Four patrolling, and—
A gasp escaped him as he dropped behind the bush. In that split second, an image burned in his mind: shadowy forms of countless women—elves, animal-eared humans, and humans—huddled around a crouching woman. All of them, one arm wrapped around their chest, the other hand covering their waist.
H-Hostages!
Suddenly, the back of his neck seared hot.
WHAT?!
He jumped to his feet, his gaze rapidly shifting between the men in the camp. It stopped on one patrol, walking toward the hostage cage. Squinting, he saw the man glance at the cage—hands trembling with excitement, sweat glistening in the firelight and drenching the mask that covered his face.
He froze, watching their hand shoot toward the cage. The key clanked against the lock—the shaky hand reducing his accuracy. Muffled screams and yelps sounded from within the cage, the captives scrambling as far back from the door as possible.
The door swung open.
The assailant grabbed one of the women and dragged her out. She tried to wrestle against him, shaking and jerking her arm.
stop.
The assailant drew his knife, placing it against her neck. Crimson dripped down her chest as he took her away.
Stop.
In his observation, he hadn't seen the makeshift bed of square hay bales and thick carpet. The assailant pushed her onto it and—
"STOOOOOP!"
He tapped into his super-speed.
WHOOSH!
Tightly clenching his fist, he sprinted toward him. His arm bulged in his armor as he wound back his fist. Nearing, he unleashed his fury upon him—
STOP!
He froze, his fist a mere centimeter from the face of the accursed.
"WHAT!?"
If you use that power now, it will be like a drug—you won't stop, even in unnecessary situations.
"SO WHAT!!! SO WHAT IF IT'S ADDICTING! IT'S FOR JUSTICE! HE'S ABOUT TO RAPE A WOMAN!!!"
I agree. I agree! Believe me, I do. But, there are other ways of justice. Justice that can be served without that strength.
"HOW? HOW!!! WHAT OTHER JUSTICE IS THERE FOR A FUCKING RAPIST!!!"
Look around us, man. We're in a forest. Calm yourself and think.
His shoulders heaved with ragged breaths.
"But… BUT…"
What did I say? Calm… Think.
His fist trembled, the shaking intensifying with every ragged breath.
"RAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
THUD!
He punched the ground—a crater and crisscross cracks formed beneath his fist.
He grabbed the assailant by the neck and hurled him into the center of the camp, then did the same for the others. After the final man, he adjusted them shoulder to shoulder, forming a circle.
Scanning the area, his gaze landed on a coil of rough rope on a nearby cart.
Perfect.
He snatched it and went to work, tying their hands one by one. Yet each time he tied them, his fist yearned to cave in their faces. Denying himself the luxury, he finished his work—and for good measure, used their own face-cloths to blindfold them.
He untapped his super-speed.
The world snapped back into motion with a rush of sound—the crackle of the fire, the women's muffled sobs, and the men's confused grunts through their gags.
The woman on the makeshift bed kicking her legs and shaking her head as muffled screams escaped her. The caged women's eyes widened in terror as they saw Oswald bent down to retrieve a knife, then walk toward the cage.
On the makeshift bed, her kicking slowed to a stop, hearing footsteps to her right. Turning her head, her scream died in her throat. She could only stare in shared confusion and fear as he walked toward thecage, her captors now captured.
He slipped the knife through the cage's opening, holding it firmly in place while looking down at the ground—eyes closed for good measure.
Lord, forgive me for catching a glimpse.
"I uh. Ahem. One of you can uh, cut yourselves free then—"
His throat dried, the last word ending hoarse.
Ah, Jesus. I don't have water to drink.
"You may, um, free the others w-with this knife."
A few seconds later, he felt the knife move.
Someone's cutting.
His other hand joined in grasping the handle, steadying it.
SNAP! THUD!
NICE!
He withdrew the knife and held it by the blade, fumbling before successfully sticking it back through the opening. Then he felt a pull on the knife, which he released.
Alright, time to let them do their thing.
He turned away from the cage.
Uhh… What do I do next…? Clothes! But where…?
Looking around—excluding the cage—his eyes fell on the captured men.
How about a little karma… on the house.
He tapped into his super-speed again, untied the men, stripped them to their underwear, then retied them. Untapping, he walked toward the cage with a pile of cloaks, shirts, and trousers, his gaze averted.
I can't see. I-I can't see. Please don't let me collide with the cag—
THUD!
"AH!"
He collided with the side of the cage, his nose taking the brunt of the impact. He heard a stifled sound escape the women.
"Oww…"
He turned leftward, eyes shut, rubbing his nose. "I borrowed some clothes… I uh, hope they don't, y'know, smell."
My dignity—alongside my nose—shattered.
He felt the clothes being picked up—one by one until his arms were empty.
Um… What to do next…? Ah hah! The cart! I can bring them back to their homes on it.
He pointed at the cart—well, he pointed, but in the wrong direction.
"I'm gonna get the cart for you."
He turned toward his finger.
Wait… the cart isn't there.
A groan escaped him as he turned in the right direction, hearing more stifled laughs.
My poor, poor dignity.
He jogged over to the cart, picked up the shaft, and reversed it, using the sides to carefully look where he was going. Successfully backing it up, he walked behind the cart.
The women—now clad in the men's oversized clothing—waited.
His gaze lowered, "I don't know what abhorrent… horror… disgusting things… they did to you— Haaah. I just don't want you all to walk, that's all."
After a moment, he saw their nods in his peripheral vision. They began climbing over the back. He let out a silent whistle, walking to the front of the cart.
Time to leave this place to the wolves, bears, coyotes, mountain lions, and any other animal I named—may they manifest unto these… animals.
He picked up the shaft. "So uh, who's going to lead me?"
A second later, a woman behind him, her voice melodic and archaic, replied, "I shall. Onward hence."
Onward hence I go.
He henced onward, pushing the cart away with ease—away from the camp.
* * *
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