The vast village in the trees was eerily silent as Drake peered through the window into one of the primitive structures. His friends were below, their backs protected by the large trees, as they scanned the area for danger.
Inside, the structure was revealed to be a holding area for what the gargoyles would be considered cattle. There were cages lined up against the jagged walls. Blood stains washed the walls as if the walls were painted in blood red paint. All the cages were small, each barely able to fit one human. There were eight cages in total. The bars were stained with dried blood that looked like rust. The smell of rot and decay permeated the air. The structure's metallic stench brought swarms of insects that resembled flies but were the size of wasps.
There were only two cages that contained life. One was the little girl Nelly, whom they had come to save. Her small body was pressed to the back of the cage, the doll held tight against her small chest. The other was a man in ragged, bloodstained clothes. The man was unable to stand due to the small size of his cage. His hands were bound with a thick rope. Blood dripped from around the binding, dripping onto the floor.
He looked weak. His pale skin looked to be turning blue. He was alive, though. His chest was rising and falling slowly. A soft snore could be heard.
At one side of the structure, there was a makeshift butcher block. Large knives were lined up on the side, some hanging from the ceiling, held up with twisted twine. The structure resembled a demented human meat processing plant. A scene from a horror movie.
Slowly following the wall of the structure. Finding the door, Drake crept inside. Avoiding the puddles of blood and piles of chopped up flesh, he went to Nelly first. She was the priority. He would save them both if he could. Finding an iron key, he opened the lock. The door of the cage creaked as he opened it, the sound waking the child. Backing away, pressing her small back tighter against the cold bars, the child screamed. Drake swiftly held his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound to keep her from bringing attention to them.
"Shhh…" he whispered. "I'm here to take you home. No noise, okay. We don't want to get caught, do we?" he asked quietly.
The little girl looked up and nodded. Tears ran down her angelic face. In one hand, she held her doll. Unlike the man in the other cage, she was not tied up.
Taking her tiny hand, he gently pulled her up from the floor and led her out of the cage and out of the structure. Outside the door of the structure, he stopped. "Wait here. I have to get that guy out, too. Okay?"
The little girl nodded, hugging her doll. Her thumb was jammed in her mouth as she sucked on it rapidly. The child shook in fear. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but she remained silent. Afraid to make a sound.
Drake rushed back into the structure, avoiding the carnage on the floor. He looked down at the sleeping man before using the iron key; he opened the lock of the second cage. Hearing the creak of the door swinging open, the man opened his eyes.
"Make no sound," Drake warned. "We need to get you and the girl out of here before they find us. We're pressed for time."
Drake pulled one of the knives off the butcher block and cut the ropes off the man's wrists. The man crawled out of the cage and stood up. He first stretched out his cramped bone before he looked at Drake. Without warning, the man grinned, pulling a knife from the ceiling and swinging it at Drake.
Drake stepped back and frowned, "Really, I save your life and you try to kill me?" he asked angrily, then held his hand up, "Fireball," he called. A ball of fire formed in his hand and shot for the man, hitting him in the face. Just as the man began to scream, Drake took one of the large knives and slammed it into the man's neck, severing his head. The head fell to the floor with a thud. Blood poured out of the stump onto the floor, then suddenly vanished, turning into light particles. A coiled wire with a handle lay on the floor in its place.
A soft voice floated through his mind.
{You have slain a level one bandit}
{You have gained a reward}
{You have gained a magic whip}
'Hmmm… No mana this time.'
Drake exited the structure, not even looking back. The whip was made from a thin, shiny metal. One end was razor sharp; a casing affixed to the sharp blade at its thin tip. It was a small sheath meant to protect the blade. The closer to the handle, the wider the whip became. He wrapped it around his wrist for easy access. Heading to his friend's position, he bent down for Nelly to get on his back. "Get on my back. I have to climb down. Okay?"
Nelly wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. Drake pulled her up and moved her little legs around his waist, then began to climb down. With Nelly holding tightly like a spider monkey, he descended the large tree. Drake looked around him at the other structures.
Nestled in the trees were dozens of makeshift structures made of wood. They were primitive, with stretched beast skins that served as a roof. Clearly, the gargoyles had some intelligence if they were able to produce such structures.
Drake stared at the treehouses, studying every detail. The platform's large supporting beams were laid out between thick branches. Rows of wood were lined up on the beams, creating a rough platform. On the platforms, the structures were assembled. Remembering Ivan's words, Something about the situation didn't make sense. If they wouldn't even touch the buildings of the villagers, why do they have similar structures of their own? It didn't make sense.
When he reached the ground, he gently pulled Nelly off his back. Her small feet softly touched the grass beneath her as Drake set her on the hard ground. "Stay with these two. They're my friends. I'll be right back. I have to take care of something."
Chad being the closest, Nelly grabbed Chad's leg and held on. Her small arms wrapped around his leg for dear life. As Drake walked over to a nearby woodpile, he picked up a large axe. He stared at the axe for a moment. The handle was a thick wood with a stone blade. "It doesn't make sense." He whispered. Mike was close enough to hear.
Mike studied Drake for a minute. "What are you doing?" Mike finally questioned, looking at the axe in Drake's hand.
"Something doesn't add up. They say the monsters won't even touch the buildings in the village, regardless of whether they are made out of wood or stone. All these structures are made of wood. They even live in the trees. This axe has a wooden handle. The blade is stone. It doesn't make sense. I'm going to look around."
"Maybe we should just take Nelly back and come back in the morning. It will be difficult for us to protect her if we're fighting monsters." Chad added. It was a reminder that they had to think of the little girl. She was the priority. They could always come back after they get her home safely.
"This place is on our way to Dragon Head Mountain. We can stop back here on the way," Mike added. He turned to the scared little girl wrapped around Chad's leg. "We need to get her home."
Drake slammed the axe into the stump next to the woodpile. "Shit, you're right. It will put Nelly in danger the longer we stay here. We'll be back. And when we are, we will end them all." Going back to Nelly, Drake urged her to climb on his back once again.
The boys with their precious cargo exited the lair and out of the forest. They were back in the clearing. Just like before, there was no sign of life. Passing through the clearing was uneventful. Drake stopped just before they exited it, looking around. "Even this clearing doesn't make sense," he observed aloud. "Even beasts won't come near here. There has to be something going on that we don't see." Then, looking at his friends, "First, we get Nelly home. We have a quest to complete. I haven't received a message that it's completed yet. Either we have to get her home to complete it, or there is danger that is lurking, waiting to strike. Be ready to fight at any moment."
The boys stepped back onto the packed dirt road and headed back toward the small town. They kept looking around them, waiting for something to strike. All three of them felt like they were being watched. All three of them were right.