by Al K. Line
The girl stirred, the dog too, its huge feet twitching like it was dreaming of running.
A real warrior to Hunt. This would be interesting.
A Judgement
When Arcene was a little girl, her mother used to tell her off for running around naked, getting dirty, shouting too loud, or doing dangerous things — basically being a child. Arcene knew no other children though, and believed what her mother told her.
Being naked was wrong — she should cover her private parts, why did she think they were called private? Being splattered in mud was terrible — why did she think there was water? Climbing trees wasn't for girls — didn't she know only boys climbed trees? Shouting was intolerable — it was annoying as hell.
It meant that as a small child she always had a sense of shame and guilt about much of what she did, but it never stopped her. Something inside of Arcene rebelled against much of what she was told. She wanted to be naked, feel the grass on her bottom, the bark of the trees on her legs as she climbed. The joy of rolling in the sticky mud after it rained, watching birds fly high as she ran into meadows shouting and screaming about the joy of being alive and having a full belly for the first time in weeks.
There was a bubble of constantly bursting energy inside of Arcene, and it would not, could not, be stopped. She was curious about everything, obsessed over food, becoming even more so once she found herself alone in the world without a clue how to survive.
Frequently, she came close to death through hunger, or her own innate sense of curiosity and utter lack of a sense of danger. Arcene felt invincible when she had enough food, and when she didn't she would go to any lengths, including stealing, to get sustenance.
Clothes were worn because she disliked feeling cold, and there was always that nagging about it being shameful, so she wore them even when warm because it was apparently what you should do.
As she got older, and her body developed in ways she found highly irritating and inconvenient, she understood she was becoming a woman, and would stare for hours in the mirror at her still-narrow hips, her flat waist, and her tiny breasts that were often sore as they grew. But the shame she was supposed to feel about her own body was long gone. Everyone had one and hers was nothing special. Rather boyish and lithe, pale, freckled in places, marred only by the scars of one adventure or another — until she Awoke and then could heal even serious injuries without having to consciously think of it.
The shame was vanquished, not that it had ever really been there. She liked clothes now as they made her who she was, but she never felt uncomfortable when others saw her naked. It was just as well, she thought, as otherwise right now she would feel very shamed.
She was stark naked, stood on a box of all things, with hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at her like she was a rotten piece of fruit that deserved to be thrown out. Her leg itched but she couldn't scratch it. She was tethered. Tethered!
Her arms were spread wide, ropes holding them parallel to the floor, tied to two posts like she was some kind of sacrifice to a monster that would any minute come stomping from behind the assembled crowd and eat her for a snack before moving on to poor Leel. There weren't monsters though, not of the make-believe kind. Arcene had seen many things in her life and knew the only monsters were the dark hearts and minds of human beings.
Arcene noted the men leering at her breasts, saw the envy on some of the women's faces even though they tried to hide it. It didn't matter what they tried to hide, she saw right through them. Arcene knew the dark thoughts they harbored, but above all else she saw the excitement, the anticipation of whatever it was they had planned for her. They were like a pack of dogs keen for the hunt.
They wouldn't, would they? Yes, they would.
She could see it, see the anticipation, the excitement. They thought of her as the fox, and they were the dogs that would lose themselves and become a rabid pack consumed by bloodlust.
Arcene sneered at the crowd as the wind blew her hair across her nose, making it tickle. She scrunched her nose but it only made it worse. To think she'd thought they were nice!
There was a noise behind the densest group, and many of them turned to face the strange bridge that cut across the landscape. Massive, squat concrete pillars set on risers in the artificial landscape, stretching across a dip where sheltered plants flourished. It was an odd thing, a metal bridge three stories high, rusted and beautiful in its own strange way. It was like an unfinished skeleton of a building, all cut-off metal ladders, poking into the sky, thicker at the surface of the bridge, struts criss-crossing, ropes and pulleys bunched like taut tendons ready to snap when hidden energy was released.
A huge sheet, what looked like a cinema screen, unrolled and dropped down filling the gap underneath two towers and the supports above that rose high above the crowd like skeletal remains of the skyscrapers dotted around the country. As the screen unrolled fully, the bottom was clipped into place, the whole thing stretched tight like a drum skin. The next thing Arcene knew, she was staring at a projected image of herself, a giant in all its nakedness, staring back at her, sneering.
Does my bum look big? Arcene turned at the hip to get a better look. It does! My bum has got big. And look at my belly! That's from all the food they gave me, food they used to drug me. Ugh.
The people gasped. Oohed and aahed at the sight of Arcene made large. What was wrong with them? She wasn't exactly a long way off, but this was the power of the screen — something she was all too aware of.
She'd heard of it, experienced it firsthand, lost for countless hours watching anime, her favorite, or shows where men with swords put the world to rights. Shows about honor, loyalty, skill, all the things Arcene held dear.
The image changed angle and Arcene realized that it must be linked up to the man in front of her, moving to her side with a camera like he was filming a wildlife documentary.
Idiot. Do they think they can intimidate me?
Then the man stopped, lowered the camera, and the image on the screen changed. The crowd murmured. This was a scene they had experienced before. Something wasn't right, the image was familiar but different somehow. Ah, yes, an effect, colors subdued, everything kind of washed out, like the world was made of grays rather than beautiful color. But the new image was something Arcene had seen a thousand times in different variations. It was a cityscape, or what remained of a city at any rate. What did this mean? Were they going to show a movie? And why—
"The devastation wrought by man," came the booming voice of Vorce, interrupting Arcene's thoughts. "Not just men, but women too, like this one that stands before us to be Judged. Look at her in her shame, her nakedness. She is no innocent, she is like those of the old days, days I remember only too well. We live here on The Island, away from all that was wrong, and still is wrong with the world, and we will not have our lives interfered with, disrupted. There is no place for evil here, no room for people that would come and do us harm, treat us without proper respect. And we will not tolerate greed. She comes with an animal, taking the food from the mouths of our children, not once thinking to stop eating. This woman took advantage of our generosity. Does she think her pet is more important than our lives?"
The crowd murmured and nodded in agreement, answered Vorce's questions almost in hysterics. Vorce wasn't finished.
"See the ravaged and bleak world she comes from, where there are no manners and people don't care. We would have accepted her, let her be one of us. But can a barbarian truly understand what it is to be civilized? I am not the one to Judge, however. Talia, you found this wretch that flaunts her body and shows us no shame even in her nakedness, the decision is yours."
Arcene watched as Talia stepped forward. She glanced at her but she showed no emotion. Arcene could see behind the blank face. Talia had made up her mind.
"I pass my Judgment and I find this woman guilty. She hides inside the body of a girl but she is not one. She came to us with sword and greed, not once thinking of us. She showed no respect and sh
e is guilty. There will be a Hunt and I nominate Cashae and Erato to be my companions." Talia stepped back, her verdict delivered.
"Tonight, when darkness descends and the very sea wishes to remove this menace from The Island, we shall depart. Tomorrow, The Hunt will begin. You will bear witness to all, the screen shall remain live and every action followed. She will return to the crumbling ruins of her home and we will risk our lives to eradicate another evil from our midst. I—"
"Don't I get to say anything? I'm sorry, I'm a little obsessed with food, Leel too. I didn't think, and that was wrong, but I was half-crazed with hunger and thirst and just so happy to be with people. I thought you were nice, especially you, Talia, and you, Vorce. But you tricked me. I didn't want to hurt anyone, neither did Leel. We were just glad we weren't dead. I'm sorry." Arcene stood proud, held her head high.
She was strong enough to admit when she had done wrong, and she honestly hadn't thought about how precious food would be, thinking it was abundant with them offering her so much. It was a trick, a test. They wanted this, needed this. Still, she had apologized, the rest was up to them.
Arcene looked at Leel, who was beginning to stir. She wouldn't be happy. Leel was chained up, rope tied tight around her mouth. She was not going to like that one bit, let alone once she saw Arcene tied up like a pig about to be butchered.
Why couldn't people be nice? Why did everyone have to be so mean?
"You have been Judged," said Vorce. "Save your fake apologies."
"It wasn't fake, I meant it. If that isn't enough then that is your decision."
"Ha, you lie. You will be in The Hunt."
"The Hunt, The Hunt," chanted the crowd.
Arcene stared at Vorce, at Talia, at the assembled people. She stared at them until they went quiet. "I have killed men, and women. I have been kidnapped, starved, enslaved, abused, almost died more times than you could imagine. I have seen beauty and I have seen the darkness of real evil. I have crawled through the underworld and I have soared in the sky. I have chopped limbs off kings and I have watched tiny birds sit on eggs. I have walked the country and I have been attacked by bears. I have made friends and lost them and I grew up alone and survived. I learned to read and I learned how to love, and I will say this once more. I apologize if I offended you, so will you please let me and Leel go?"
The crowd was silent. Vorce said, "No."
"So be it. If you try to harm me, or Leel, then I give you my promise. I will kill you. I do not forgive anyone, ever, that would try to make me do something against my will, and I never forgive someone that would try to hurt us. You think you will 'Hunt' me? Kill me? Never! I will watch as you squirm in the dirt and breathe your last painful breath. I will leave you to be eaten by the dogs and the creatures of the night. I will turn your world upside down and I will never stop until I have my vengeance. This is who I am and you will know my wrath for the way you have treated me this day."
The crowd was motionless, even the breeze had died down, as if her words were heavier than air, stilling the birds and stopping the crying children mid-wail.
Well, that was all right, wasn't it? A little over the top but if you can't be dramatic when you are tied to posts and everyone's being all stupid, well, when can you? Arcene knew her words were a bit much, but the fact was she meant it, every word. Did they think she was just a stupid girl they could play with to satisfy their own warped sense of what was right? Did they think it would just be fun to chase her down, and watch it for entertainment? She would slice them into bits and never look back.
"Oh, and another thing. If you—" Vorce stood back, the needle pulled from her arm.
"Get her ready. Deal with the dog, we don't want it waking up yet." An Elder took the needle off Vorce and placed it on a small table by the wall. He picked up another and walked toward Leel. Her eyes were opening, but she was too dazed to know what was happening.
"Give her two, she's very big," said Vorce before retreating to the interior. The crowd remained, silent. This wasn't how it usually happened; the damn girl had spoiled it. Well, no matter, tomorrow was another day and her outburst would be forgotten as soon as The Hunt began.
Wakey, Wakey
Arcene really needed a pee. Why did she always need to go when it was most difficult to do so? She'd remained in the same position since she woke almost an hour ago, and dared not move for fear of putting any pressure on her bladder.
It was one thing to imprison a girl and do whatever they thought they would do in the morning, quite another to make her suffer the indignity of wetting herself. How would that look, her on that stupid big screen, damp patch on her kilt or wee running down her leg?
It wouldn't exactly give the impression of a fierce lady warrior, kilt twirling, hair whipping in the breeze, sword slicing and dicing, which was exactly how she saw it in her mind. All set against an apocalyptic background with suitably intense music pounding away and blood splattering the camera lens as she then turned and peered close, snarling at the voyeurs on The Island, putting an end to their amusement once and for all.
She'd show them. Nobody messed with her or Leel and got away with it.
She turned and watched Leel to make sure she was still breathing. They'd obviously dosed her strongly, and she'd remained unconscious, so, naturally, Arcene worried the drugs could do her damage. It wasn't as if Leel could make them harmless like her, which was exactly what she'd done the moment she became conscious enough to set the process in motion. Were they still on The Island or had she been taken away already? She sensed they were still there, but had yet to check. It was time to do that and so much more.
First thing first though — she really needed that pee. There was no toilet in her cell. There was nothing, just bars. Outside was a narrow corridor, so all she could see were the bars and the brick wall facing her.
At least they'd dressed her, that was something, and she suspected they had even cleaned her up a little. Her hair was neatly plaited, her body clean. All for the cameras, she supposed. How would that work though? How would they film it if they really were to hunt her like an animal? Maybe that was all to come once on the mainland? That made sense, so, yes, they were still on The Island.
The pressure became intolerable, so with no other option Arcene stood and moved over to the bars. She made the necessary adjustments and peed as close to the corridor as possible — maybe when they came to get her someone would stand in it. A small victory, but you took what you could get.
People never ceased to amaze Arcene. Why did they have to turn to such extremes? Or was it entirely natural? There always had to be an escape route, didn't there? She herself embraced violence, didn't she? Felt proud, strong and fierce with her sword at her back. And where was that now? They better not have broken it.
Violence was a part of her, and was that her release? No, she used it when she had to, against those that deserved it. But was she always right? Were the deaths she doled out always justified? To her, yes, but probably not to the people she had killed or maimed.
It all came down to what you thought was right, she supposed, and these people clearly believed their punishments were justified. Well, that only meant one thing as far as she was concerned: her retribution on those that would treat her like sport would be justified.
No forgiveness. Ever.
But things didn't sit right. What was with the huge screen and the cameras? It was as if this was their proper entertainment, that they enjoyed the spectacle, and that was no way to deal with those you believed guilty of serious crimes. Punishment wasn't entertainment. If you felt it was deserved then it should be a serious affair, not there to amuse the masses.
So, first order of business? Eliminate their entertainment.
Making herself as comfortable as was possible on the rough, freezing concrete floor, Arcene raised her temperature a little, settled her mind, and imagined the essence of herself squeezing between the bars of her cell like a ghost, floating away down the corridor.
&nbs
p; She sank deep into The Noise, let the her that was her true self, her mind, emotions, her very being, become one with the everything, the nothing, the truth behind the facade of reality as seen though the eyes. Deeper and stiller, until she found what she was looking for and approached it carefully, with respect, not scaring, but exuding calmness. She was a friend, could she come visit for a little while?
It wasn't something she enjoyed doing, and the dangers were real. Inhabiting the minds of other creature, even when they welcomed you, was dangerous, and she was less than an expert as she did it little. Squeezing the essence of a human being into a small body with a mind that thought differently, or not at all, meant it was easy to lose yourself.
The longer you remained, the more you took on the emotions, thoughts, the core of the creature you inhabited. If you weren't careful you would be trapped, lost, unaware of yourself, never to return to the body of a human being.
So Arcene neither rushed, nor lingered, focused and kept her mind clear, her goal at the front of her consciousness, all while ensuring she was welcome and not intruding too much on the speeding mind of the tiny dormouse.
It was easy enough to find them, the mice. Thousands and thousands of them were bred in well-maintained buildings grouped around other buildings for butchery, meat and fish processing. The little creatures were sleeping happily, nestled deep in dried seaweed, but as would always be the case when tiny rodents are in such numbers, there were quite a few that had been overlooked, or escaped, and scampered about the building unhindered.
Arcene chose her subject and, with tiny mice eyes fairly well adjusted to the darkness, she squeezed through a gap under the door and was out in the open air. Her nose twitched and her whiskers tickled as she sensed her way. Her tiny heart beat so fast. Everything felt like it ran at double time.
She did her best to stem the urge to nibble on the succulent plants she scurried past, and made her way to the bridge. There wasn't much she could do there as this was just the screen — she needed the projection room. There it was, on the second story of the building that housed a number of The Island's inhabitants, including Vorce.