The Toll

by Jeanette Lynn

  “Yes.” I scooted a little closer, bringing us only a few feet apart.

  “An’ what ye be wantin’ me ta do ‘bout it?”

  “Well, I… I, uh… nothing. I just want to stay here.”

  He barked out a laugh and chuffed, “Ye be wantin’ ta stay here? An’ wit’ me an’ all?”

  I swallowed my pride and stiffened my spine, staring a hole through the back of his thick, short neck. More often than not, I wanted to wrap my hands around that thick muscled bit of flesh and wring it.

  “I don’t have anyone else. I…” I fisted my hands, gripping them together tightly until I thought they might crack and bleed. “You’re all I have left,” pausing, I let out a big breath and forced myself to continue, “just please, I need…”

  “Ye be willin’ ta make a trade, then?”

  “A trade? For what? To stay? To come do as you say, day in and day out, or else?”

  Troll bristled as he turned his head enough to watch me through the corner of his eye. Apparently, my distress didn’t warrant his full attention.

  “A trade fer ye ta stay in me home, when yer arse isna welcome.” His voice had gone deeper than gravelly deep.

  I knew that tone. I’d struck a nerve in the lumbering, thick, grey skinned, demonic eyed troll I was just moments ago trying to plead with to let me stay.

  Maybe it was the mention of a deal, as my wounds related to the mere mention of a trade of some kind felt so fresh still, so open and raw, or maybe it was because I was just getting so tired of all the one-sidedness of my life, tit but no tat, this but not that, either way—I snapped.

  “Or else you might choke me?” I went on. “Again? Or throw me in the river? Again? Trick me and trade me for my worthless sister, again?”

  Troll growled low and angry. “Ye best be keepin’ yer tongue, dafty. I’m no’ in the mood.”

  “Really?” I laughed bitterly, chucking my meat into the oddly flamed fire, listening to it crackle and hiss before it poofed in a cloud of smoke and disappeared, sparkly bits drifting about everywhere. “Because, damn it, neither am I!”

  Troll gripped the doorway to his sleeping quarters, squeezing it in his hand until a chunk of it broke off, crumbling to earth and dust as he ground it in his meaty palm.

  Hissing under his breath, he sprinkled the bits of red cave wall all over the floor, staring off at something as he closed his eyes.

  “A deal, Daphie-who-ever-tha-fuck-ye-go-by. Ye want ta stay? Fine.” He turned slowly and motioned me forward, his face as hard as granite. “A stay fer a… stay.” With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the pallet he made up for himself, just beyond the other room. “Ye warm me bed, ye get wha’ ye be wantin’. I’ll let ye stay.”

  My eyes widened and my lips parted. Staring after him, I felt my fingers slacken in disbelief, flopping to my sides.

  He can’t mean…

  I shook my head, as if to rid it of such a stupid idea, but he nodded, orange eyes focused solely on me as he stared me down, crossing his massive arms over his thick chest as he waited me out. The look in his eyes dared me to argue, dared me to counter him, but I didn’t, couldn’t.

  I’d never felt more like an object, a tool to be used, in my life. Objectified.

  His lips thinned across his wide mouth, and his ears twitched, the bent cartilage at the ends, turning in to curve down over the tops like a dogs, swiveling at the tips as if he was a cow batting away an annoying fly.

  “I’d rather roll with the pigs you seemed to find so repugnant.” The backs of my eyes stung at his crass proposal, a sharp pain invading my chest as my blood ran cold.

  Will I ever be more than just a convenience to anyone? More than a warm body? Or a working body, to do so and so’s bidding?

  Troll’s chest vibrated with a deep grumble of displeasure, his back stiff and unyielding. The markings along his skin looked darker in the dim light cast by the steadily burning fire, more prominent, lighting an eerie blue.

  Speaking of fires, his eyes were spitting at me hotly, burning me with the intensity of one, licking with black tendrils, he was so mad. I found myself staring at them fixedly, feeling oddly detached and lightheaded, as if I was doing and seeing things all on my own, but unable to put together it was me actually doing it.

  Maybe it was the stress of it all, or maybe it was the feeling of being shit on one too many times for one’s liking or lifetime, but it was his next words, I felt, crumbling the last of my resolve not to lose it, that broke me.

  “Ye know me answer then. So, get the fuck out.”

  “You selfish…” I gestured around me wildly, “greedy…” I stuttered, stomping my foot and trying to find the right words.

  He just raised a brow and offered, “Troll?”

  “If there ever was a word that existed, worse than that, then that, you troll, that’s what you are!!” It was a weak declaration, at best, but it was filled with conviction, rife with emotion.

  Face an unyielding mask, he didn’t react.

  I found myself oddly deflated all of the sudden, as if I’d popped—defeated.

  “Done, then, nugget? Yes? Alright.” He nodded as if I’d answered him. “I’ll be seein’ ye at week’s end, then.” And with that, he left me standing there, all alone, by myself, the sudden emptiness of the room deafening.

  Kick Rocks

  On heavy legs, I walked as if in a haze, scanning the room for what I needed.

  Troll was snoring loudly from his room, the sounds of a male asleep, snoring and mumbling, tossing and turning followed by the occasional passing of gas, giving me proof he was out cold.

  I peeked up at the horizon as I grunted, hefting my load and walking carefully out of the cave, rounding the corner on bare feet, the mud and the muck squishing beneath my toes.

  It felt oddly good, freeing.

  A strange calmness had settled over me, numbing me to all other emotions. My tears had long ago dried up, and I didn’t bother wasting any more on myself.

  No. Not today.

  Only a little bit longer, anyways, and it won’t matter anymore. It will all be alright.

  No, nothing is alright, I thought, not the least bit relieved, but ready to be done with it, hefting my pilfered goods up a little higher on my shoulder. The pot shifted, the rocks I’d filled it with making it that much heavier. The bridge creaked alarmingly as I slowly made my way up it, but I wasn’t terribly concerned. It will be done before he’s even woken up. He can’t stop me now anyways. I set the pot on the railing, securing the end I’d tied around it, slipping it inside my pillow case and tying it in knots. I thought it would be heavy enough, hoping it worked.

  Securing a few more knots, I climbed up and balanced along the railing’s edge, slipping my foot through the stirrup-like noose I’d created, tightening it around my ankle.

  Balancing carefully, I picked up the pot and jumped before I had another chance to think it through, falling into the swiftly churning river water with a surprisingly quiet splash.

  Holding my breath, I gripped the pot in my hands tight, fighting my body’s natural fight or flight response as I tucked it into my stomach, resisting the urge to rush for the surface and gulp fresh air, as I was wont to do.

  Soon the temptation became too great, the feeling of suffocating having sent my body into a panic, the adrenal rushing through me begging to be released.

  My body lurched for the surface, the pot I’d had a firm grip on slipping down underneath me as I flailed towards the top.

  Breaking the surface, I got in a few good breaths before I was yanked back under. What am I doing? Have I gone mad? The gravity of what I was trying to do, the truth of the situation, of trying to drown myself in the river, truly sank in.

  My legs kicked out, churning underneath my heavy skirt as it weighed down heavily around me. No! Wait! I don’t want to die! Screaming under the icy cold depths, my voice went unheard.

  My ankle soon tugged on me, letting me know the pot had indeed worked, but no
t in the way I’d expected, exactly.

  It was caught between several jagged rocks, pinned itself and pinning me down underneath the deeper part where the river pooled, farther down than I’d thought I’d traveled.

  Flailing my arms desperately, I screamed underneath the water again, my shout for help unheard, gulping in a lungful of water, yanking at my trapped foot with everything I had to try and get back up.

  Help! I screamed uselessly again, but no one heard.

  Reaching up, my fingers touched the surface and I felt the absence of water on them, cool air tingling the tips. I don’t want to die! I thought wildly, changing my mind as death loomed before me, but it was too late to take it back.

  My body started to shut down as my lack of oxygen settled in, lungs burning, head pounding, black spots dancing in my vision as I stared up, trapped, helplessly, catching my last glimpse of the wavering world above me.

  I thought of all the things I’d yet to do, wanted to do, wouldn’t get to do now, knowing in seconds I would be dead and gone.

  After that, I couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, and everything soon went blank.

  From The Brink

  A horrible pain wracked my body.

  Warm lips pressed to mine and air was pushed into me.

  Gasping and gagging, I choked on an exhale, that forced air pushing the water in my lungs up and out, and then I was rolled onto my side.

  Stomach heaving, I vomited, what seemed like an ocean-ful of river water expelling from my burning lungs as I choked and my chest heaved endlessly.

  Wracking coughs took over until I had nothing left to bring up, the feel of cool stones against my trembling skin and the feel of my clothes sticking to me wetly letting me know I’m alive.

  I’m alive.

  The elation I should have felt at knowing that never came, I was too busy coughing up my lungs.

  Pulling my legs up to my chest, I started to sob softly, hugging myself tight.

  My rescuer scooped me up, strong and capable, cradling me to a warm chest.

  Shaking and trembling with body wracking tremors, I forced my eyes open and saw that it was none other than Troll carrying me, carting me off to who knew where.

  He saved me?

  Overcome, my face pinched and I cried harder.

  “None of that,” Troll rumbled out quietly, his voice oddly subdued.

  “You should have let me die,” I sniffled, choking on another body jarring cough.

  “I said ye coulda warmed me bed, dinna say ye had ta,” he grumbled. “Dinna haveta drown yerself in the river over it, nugget.”

  “You’re a horse’s ass,” I wailed, not exactly certain why that fact made me cry.

  Troll chuckled and hitched me up higher. “Och, nugget, ye say the nicest things, ye do.”

  “Shut the fuck up!!” I wailed harder, my fingers digging into his hole-filled shirt, my nails pricking his exposed skin.

  ****

  The familiar smell of dampened earth and the fire Troll always had going let me know we were at Troll’s dwelling. I tried to roll out of his arms, but he tightened his grip.

  “Now where do ye think ye be goin’, me little nugget?”

  My body was shaking so badly from the cold, my teeth chattering with a harsh, repetitive click clack, Troll knew I wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight. The jerk.

  “I’m going to kick your teeth in when I can feel my hands again,” I chattered out uselessly. I don’t know where I mustered up all the anger from, but I wasn’t letting it go anytime soon.

  His snorts and chuckles at my well-aimed jabs just lit my rage.

  Troll tsk-ed. “Is that any way ta thank yer knight in shinin’ armor now?”

  “You’re a troll. I’m your property. Since when do you give a shit about anyone but yourself?”

  Stopping dead in his tracks, Troll glanced down at me for a long moment, before he looked away, grunting as he finished lugging me throughout the confines of his home.

  “An’ after I gave ye the kiss of yer life an’ all that,” he went on, as if I hadn’t said anything.

  I scoffed on the outside, but started at that on the inside and promptly shut up, remembering the feel of firm, warm lips pressed to mine, parting to force air into my unbreathing lungs, breathing life back into me.

  “Here we are.” Troll set me down on the rug sitting on the floor of his sleeping quarters, leaving to come back moments later, a white length of cloth folded over his arm.

  Kneeling, he crouched down in front of me and started lifting the hem of my skirt.

  Yanking it with a harsh tug, I gripped it and shoved it back down, grunting as I tried to fight him, and he growled, yanking back in return, trying to undress me.

  “Nugget,” he grumbled, losing his patience, “ye can either do this the hard way or the easy way, yer choice.”

  My eyes widened and I gripped my skirt tighter.

  “Hard way ‘tis, then.” Using his big hands, he took a section of material in each and gave it a vicious tug, the harsh rip of my skirt splitting down the middle filling the room. He did the same with my underthings, ignoring my squeaking protests as he methodically undressed me.

  Once he’d ripped the top of my dress up the middle, I held the pieces tightly to my chest, my legs pulled up, covering my exposed sex, tucked up as best as I could into a ball.

  With an easy shove, he gave me a push, sending me sprawling to my back, pulling the last shreds of my clothing off of me as I threw my hands up.

  There was a flap from behind me as I scrambled to catch myself, a length of fabric breezing over me before I was picked up and plopped, unceremoniously onto a plushy mess of… fur? Bunny pelts? Fox? Bear?

  Curious, I pulled at the white blanket encasing me, lifting it to investigate, just as Troll blew the small flame lighting the single candle in his room out, the sound of shuffling and then feet shifting setting me on edge as my ears pricked and I cocked my head slightly, waiting.

  The feel of someone climbing in beside me made me jump, curling into a tighter ball in my tight little huddle.

  Tugging the white length of material, I jerked the sheet around me protectively, very aware of my nudity.

  “Quick actin’ like I’m gonna beat ye,” he muttered. “Gonna torture yer feckin’ arse I woulda just left ye in the river.”

  “Maybe you should have.” My voice was small and forlorn, a rush of sadness washing over me.

  “Dinna be talkin’ like that,” he snapped, surprising me with the vehemence in his voice. “Life is full of fuckin’ shit. Ye never get ta pick an’ choose what bullshit comes yer way, just how ye deal wit’ it. No reason ta off yerself, ye little eejit.”

  He was right—he was. It was just hard hearing it, and accepting it, and from him of all persons- Erm, creatures.

  I just sat there in silence, still shaking from the cold, small coughs wracking my chest here and there, throat still raw and dry.

  When things got rough I gave up. I quit. That didn’t sound like me at all. Then again, I had to ask myself, who am I, anyways? Who am I now?

  No. No. I’m asking the wrong things. I gave myself a little mental head shake. The real one is, who do I want to be? It was something to think about.

  A thick hand suddenly slapped to my forehead, out of nowhere, making me shriek. My arm flailed out, connecting with something hard and immovable.

  “Ye mind? It may no’ be pretty, but it’s the only one I’ve got.” Troll gritted out, grunting as he sneezed a few times, cursed a bit, then yanked his hand away, muttering to himself as I felt him roll off the bed.

  I retreated, blushing profusely, scooting all the way to the other side. Troll, muttering under his breath, stomped from the room, and quite noisily, as the sounds of him slamming around in his little cooking nook pricked my ears.

  My lids started to slowly dip as I let out a loud yawn, which was interrupted by a bone jarring, hacking cough.

  Groaning, I grimaced, rubbing my fin
gers along my throat, as if to soothe the sting.

  It went silent from the other room, all but for the sound of liquid pouring, and then the sound of unmistakable stomping footsteps marching back in.

  A blue spark shot up in the dark, then another. Troll mumbled something under his breath and then I watched, transfixed, as a stream of blue streaked the open air, swirling patterns appearing before my eyes, right before orange eyes, deep and fathomless, lit up.

  I’d slowly gravitated towards the beautiful blue streaks, entranced, reaching out as if to touch one, yet too alarmed to make contact. Just as I’d grown bold enough, fingertips brushing the end of a particularly large swirl, the warmth seeping in as an electric zing shot through me, I jerked back as the candle lit and Troll came clearly into view.

  Watching me curiously, a large mug clamped in his even larger hand, my lips parted as my jaw slowly swung open, eyes widening to saucers. Lit up like the flames from his hearth, the glowing electric blue curling pattern was actually the strange markings covering his skin, mapping out across his flesh, eyes just as bright as they swirled with hints of black. Staring up at him as my eyes dipped to his shoulders repeatedly, tracing the markings with my intense blue gaze, I didn’t know what to do.

  “What?” Troll muttered, eyes dimming, swirls of shimmering cerulean along his thick grey skin fading back to inky black. “Think ye found a pixie shittin’ dust? Think ta stroke it an’ make a wish?” Snorting his contempt as he thrust the steaming mug in front of my face, he clipped out, “Willna be findin’ any ‘o’ that shit here, that’s for sure.”

  No choice but to accept it, I took it with shaking fingers, cradling the warmth to my chest as the smell hit my nose. Ugh. It’s the death broth. Trying not to gag on the fumes, nose wrinkling in disgust, I forced myself to breathe through my mouth, very slowly.

  “Drink it or I’ll gag ye again,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

  “Or I could just not.” I had nothing to lose, really, and my mouth ran away with my tongue. Truly, what was he going to do to me if I don’t?