Balmung

The air was heavy and rank. The smell of urine, feces, and blood had fused into a putrid stench that made Douglas want to gag. It had smelled that way from the moment they loaded him into the truck and throughout the long journey to wherever they were taking him. Twelve days. That was his guess for how long it had been since he was free.

It was probably much longer, but he was too bruised and weak to keep track of the actual time. The only thing he was certain of was his imminent demise.

They had blindfolded him with his wrists bound behind his back, but he could hear the shallow breathing of the other captives. As far as he could tell, there were five others crammed into the cramped trailer with him. They weren’t as vocal as they’d been several days earlier, but their bone-weary groans still reached his ears occasionally as the journey progressed.

Douglas had tried talking to them when he was thrown in, but most ignored him. The ones that did speak faded into delirium until they were consumed by silent despair. One man had become so deranged that he screamed and thrashed himself to death. Douglas couldn’t blame him. They spent the entire ride without any food.

When they’d stopped to give them a water break, the only drink they got was a sloshing bucket barely big enough for everyone to share. These horrid conditions only made death’s sweet embrace all the more inviting. Douglas hoped to embrace her soon. There was nothing worth returning to. Home had walls of indifference and floorboards that creaked in honor of his suffering, all sitting atop the bitter foundation of an abusive household.

Dying would be serene. No more pain. No more hunger. No more mistreatment. Only peace.

Peace, and stillness. Douglas’ slippery slide into oblivion was diverted the moment he felt a frigid hand grip his arm. He jumped at the sudden connection but then relaxed as the grasp softened. The cold lasted only a moment as Douglas acclimated to the rough-textured hand. The feeling was impossible.

The touch bled warmth, as if the person were healthy and had the energy to spare. They came from outside. His incoherent yearning for death must have warped his awareness. Had they arrived at their destination? No, that wasn’t it.

The truck was still moving. Another hand came. This time, rough fingers were placed just under Douglas’ head. He gave a panicked groan as the hands maneuvered him into a sitting position. He felt even more confused. Did someone manage to get free?

How had they found the strength after so long?

“Relax,” a soft voice said. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

He felt fingers grip the blindfold, and in half a second, he was face-to-face with a young woman. From the dim light leaking through the rusted cracks in the trailer, he could see she had dark hair and healthy-looking, tanned skin. Douglas groaned in confusion.

“Hold still. I’m gonna get you loose, okay?” she whispered.

“No… leave me alone.”

“That’s a first,” she chuckled.

“Yes, die… no save,” Douglas moaned. The woman chuckled as she began untying his bonds.

“No, I save,” she replied.

He wanted to fight off his savior. His fate was to die; death was freedom. He began to groan again, protesting the woman’s progress. He felt his hands slacken as the ropes fell away.

“Who… are… you?” Douglas asked.

“Usually, I prefer Mistress,” she smiled.

“But you can call me Madeline.”

Douglas lazily met her dark brown eyes. He was the damsel in distress. She stared at him unblinking. Was she his knight? He must be dreaming.

“Can you walk?”

“Mmmm…”

“Alright, just a sec.”

Confused, he watched as Madeline slowly closed her eyes. She placed a bracelet-covered hand on his chest, and another rush of warmth surprised him. This time it was like a lamp being turned on in her palm. It was hot, but not hot enough to burn. Douglas flinched but didn’t have enough strength to pull away.

Resigned, he watched as she breathed slowly and rhythmically. The warmth throbbed. Push; he felt strength and vitality surge through him. Pull; his weariness and frailty tugged away.

This went on for a minute before Madeline opened her eyes. She found him with his eyes closed, hypnotized by the relaxing healing rhythms.

“How do you feel?” she asked. He opened his eyes to meet her gaze, but before he could answer, a strong yawn overtook him. That was promptly followed by the deepest stretch of his life.

“Damn!” Douglas said. “Feels like I just woke up from the best sleep of my life.”

“Good.” Madeline chuckled. “Good for you. Now let’s get out of here. We don’t have much time.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Somewhere safe.”

Madeline shifted to the left and placed a flat hand on the wall. When she moved, Douglas finally got a full assessment of the trailer. A thin haze hung in the air. Through it, he could see rust coating the edges of the container. It climbed up like thick veins wherever water touched.

All three walls were stained. Blood and waste painted them black, like a mural of death. The body below held the remaining supply. It unnerved him to see the condition he had been forced to live in for so long. He would have puked if he hadn’t felt so great.

Then he noticed the most obvious detail: the captives. Well, the ones still alive.

“What the hell? Where’d they go?” Douglas looked around in disbelief.

“They escaped.”

“But how? We’re still moving!” he stated.

“I took them somewhere safe,” Madeline said.

“Are you staying?”

Madeline waited for him to see the wall behind her. It took him a second, but she knew he understood when she saw his eyes bulge out in shock. The wall beneath her palm rippled like a water droplet falling into a puddle. A strange-looking symbol glowed several inches from her fingertips. The same emblem could be seen shining dimly on her bracelet.

“That is some freaky magic, girl!” Douglas exhaled.

He was utterly gobsmacked. Mere moments ago, he had been frail and miserable, begging for death to take him. Now, the same girl who had given him his health back was offering him freedom too. There was no way this was real. Magical things didn’t happen to Douglas.

He had to be dreaming. Maybe he had already slipped into the void. Madeline might be the death angel he had called out to.

“You can stay if you want to see more,” Madeline said, dissecting his rambling.

“But you might not live long enough for it to make sense.”

Douglas paused. Yeah, he had to be dreaming.

“Dude, I’m not gonna repeat myself.” Madeline scowled.

“You’re wasting precious magic.”

Douglas moved, but by that point, Madeline had grown so frustrated that she grabbed him by the collar and shoved him toward the wall. He only had time for a stifled yelp before he plunged through the cold, rippling waves of the trailer wall. She removed her hand from the wall the moment he was gone. The ripples subsided just as quickly, but it did take a few seconds for the glowing symbols to sizzle out. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Now for the fun part, she thought.

After taking a moment to collect herself, she aimed her mind outward. Clairvoyance was tricky. She could speak as loudly as a megaphone or as softly as a two-way telephone call. If she didn’t focus, she risked alerting her enemies. Luckily, her target was nearby.

He was close enough that when she sent out her mental signal, it connected to his mind almost immediately.

“All clear, daddy,” she said.

“Ready for distraction number one.”