Branded for Slaughter

Wad trembled as he was kicked to the ground.

His long dark brown hair spreading around on the floor as he laid there.

He was used to the beatings so it didn't really bother him too much to endure the pain, but it still hurt a lot.

"Do you think your better than me just because you are Celia's favorite," Jasper growled.

Wad knows that Jasper loves Celia, and he does too. Though it is not in the same way as Jasper.

To make the situation clear it is better to clarify that Jasper is thirty-six and Wad is fourteen.

Celia is thirty- four and is the head cook of the estate.

Jasper desires her, but he is just a normal servant. He can only admire her from afar due to his lowly rank in the estate.

That's why it peeves him that this little slave brat can speak freely to her and get close to her whenever he likes.

Thus he decided to take his frustrations out on the boy.

Though this was not the first time.

It has been awhile since he started beating the boy regularly.

At first he felt guilty, but as time went on his repulsion to it faded.

Jasper knew that venting his frustrations on him was irrational an childish, but it always made him feel relaxed afterwards.

He had long since started to use the boy's body as a punching bag for all his frustrations and no one seemed to care.

Why?

Because Wad is a slave.

His life was deemed worthless and no one cared what was done to him.

"I'm sorry", Wad pleads.

"Fuck your sorry", Jasper says as he deals another swift and hard kick to Wad's body.

Wad knows that apologizing any more would be stupid as it would have no effect, but he still had hope that it just might work.

"Please, I'm really sorry," Wad cries as the kicks continue.

Jasper looks at Wad in frustration and anger and then spits on him before turning to walk away as all the servants has to leave early for some reason even he doesn't know.

It was already dusk and the sun was setting, Jasper didn't want to get in trouble the next day.

Wad does not know about the order so he's surprised Jasper left so soon, he decides to just take it as a blessing from the gods and not dwell on it.

Wad laid on the floor for a while not doing anything but breathing and the occasional blink as if he was trying to become one with the floor and disappear.

He then closed his eyes, sighed, and then stood up shakily.

He gets up and looks around he empty hallways before heading towards the kitchen.

…..

"Wad!", Celia exclaimed when she saw him, "What happened to you!"

Sweat dotted the sides of Celia's face, her cheeks rosy from effort.

Her blond hair and fair skin when cast in the light of sunset made her seem picturesque.

"Just playing with my friends", Wad said with a lopsided grin.

Celia knew that it wasn't true as he has no friends, plus he always used that excuse. But decides to let it go as she was in a hurry to finish up for the day.

"We'll talk later!"

"Alright", Wad responds with a sheepish look.

"Do you need any help", Wad asks.

"No, not really. I'm almost finished up for the day," Celia responds.

It was rare for Celia to do the end of the day clean up by herself, but Wad thought nothing of it.

Wad loves this woman dearly. She is his adoptive mother and the one who gave him his name—Wad.

Frankly, she is more of his mother than that damn prostitute that sold him to this manor for a couple of silver penningar.

Though it slightly annoyed him that he is named after a portion of dough.

Celia had lost her son when he was born, so when she saw Wad was the same age as her son would have been she felt a connection to him even though he was just a slave. At least that's what he believes.

Wad wanted to tell her everything that happened, but he knows that even if he did nothing would really change.

In fact, things might get worse.

If Celia reprimands Jasper, his rage and frustration would only turn to Wad for ratting him out.

"Drink some water", Celia urges him as she passes him a glass of water.

"Thanks", says Wad with a smile as he readily takes the water.

Wad drank it all down in one go. He was eager to help Celia although she said she didn't need it.

But then a sudden wave of nausea and weakness snuck up on him.

"Celia?", he barely manages to mutter out before his eyes fade to a deep black.

"I'm sorry", Celia whispers with sadness and shame written all over her face.

…..

Wad blinked his blurry eyes in confusion and tried to sit up, only to find out that he couldn't.

Thick dull Iron chains bound both his arms and legs, to a table like platform.

Fear started to plague his mind as he tried to turn his head to look around.

He was in an old dark stone room. It was barren except for the candle s that were lit around him. No opening for light at all. And to his right was a thick cast iron door.

Wad recognized this room. It was the room with the altar that they used to make sacrifices to the gods. He had helped prepare the food for a party after a ceremony here.

But that would mean that he was on the altar.

Dread filled Wad. He did not want to die.

"Help!", Wad screams fearfully.

"Celia!", Wad cries.

"Anyone! Please!", he continues with tears flowing from his brown eyes.

"Shut up," an old man says as he closes the door behind him.

Wad manages to turn his head to the right to look at the man.

As Wad observers the man fearfully as he walks toward him. He doesn't recognize this man. He is not a servant or the master of the estate.

The man wears an exquisite black priest's garb along with a black cloak. His grey eyes look at Wad envy, though Wad does not know what he has to envy.

But the old man craves what he sees in Wad's face—youth.

The man's black cloak shifts as he reveals a carving knife from it.

The man's eyes gleam as he continues to walk forward towards Wad.

"No! Please stop!", Wad begs the old man, but the old man does not react and continues forward.

Shifting his black cloak once again, he reveal a tattered old leather bound book.

The man hurriedly flipped through the book until he suddenly stops on a page filled with strange symbols.

"Please just let me go!", Wad begs.

The man ignores him and draws his carving knife, bringing it ever closer to Wad's exposed chest.

Wad didn't even notice that he didn't have a shirt when he woke up up to his fear and confusion.

Wad is drowns in hysteria. He lets out a loud shout hoping to possibly draw someone to their location.

"Screaming won't work. No one will come for you. No one will save you", says the man as the carving knife pierces his skin.

Screams of pain fill the room as the man carves various runes from the book into Wad's skin with a glint of happiness in his eyes.

…..

"You're doing a great service to the cause, Celia."

A middle-aged man dressed in black clergy robes spoke to a woman of similar age wearing a simpler version of the same robes.

"Thank you Grand Priest...but, will this really work?", Celia asked with a worried and shameful expression.

"Be at ease, Celia, he will surely reward us. Now let's begin."

As the conversation ended, figures in black hooded robes climbed the steps to the altar's platform, each of them surrounded a child with dark brown hair chained to an altar in the center.

.…

Wad opened his blurry eyes only to see nine figures clad in black surrounding him.

Wad immediately recognizes some of them. One is Eli Philander, the head of staff, another is the lord of the estate—Logan Gunderson. Rage, hate, and shame fill Wad at the sight of Logan.

Logan is his father, but Wad is a bastard.

Wad's mother, Emily, fell in love with Logan at first sight. She eventually caught his attention and they began seeing each other.

Little did his mother know, he was already a married man.

She had inadvertently become his mistress. Logan didn't love her, but her love for him was pure.

Once she found out, Logan fed her lies of divorcing his wife to marry her.

But as soon as he found out she was pregnant he abandoned her.

Emily tried to return to her family, but they didn't want her back after she had left like that just to get pregnant and have no father for the child.

Emily couldn't make ends meet by herself, so with tears in her eyes she decided to head to the red-light district and sell herself.

She believed that even if she did give herself to other men, there was still a chance that Logan would accept her back after their child was born.

But when she stood at the gates of Logan's mansion after being rejected, something in her mind broke.

She stopped caring about the child. Sometimes not feeding him, sometimes leaving him outside, sometimes screaming her frustrations at him. She didn't even name the boy.

Though her actions toward the child were unjustified, her life wasn't easy either.

Most of the time the clients would beat her and make negative comments about her.

Her freshness and novelty started to fade and she became less desirable.

She wasn't a beautiful girl. She had the slightly rough skin of a commoner, plain brown hair, thin lips and eyes that were slightly too far apart.

After a while, she began thinking of way to get rid of the boy. With him gone she wouldn't have to spend as much money and if she sold him she could even make some.

She was disgusted with herself for thinking like that. She knew she was a terrible mother but at least her child was still clothed and somewhat fed….

If he became a slave he would loose all his rights as not even a human, but as a living being.

But as the years wore on, selling him began to sound more and more enticing.

And when he was at the age of eight, she did.

Though unexpectedly the slave trader she gave her son too sold the boy to own father.

A mother selling her son to be the Father's slave. Though he was over it now, Celia had been the mother Emily couldn't ever be.

And the last one is Celia.

Shock filled Wad as he saw her with the black hood draping over he shoulders.

"Celia? Celia….why?", Wad says in a confused and fearful voice as he lifts his head, exposing his brown eyes filled with bewilderment and fear.

Celia looks at Wad with sadness and sympathy, but doesn't respond.

"Celia prepare the ceremonial dagger", the Grand Priest orders.

"Yes, Grand Priest." Celia bowed before giving Wad another sad look.

Meanwhile, the seven hooded figures begin to chant while inscribing a bloody sigil around the altar.

Tears continuously flow down the sides of Wad's cheeks as he struggles to try and escape.

"Oh Bane of the Gods, please accept the vessel and sacrifice we offer unto you."

The bloody sigil depicted two wolves—one chasing the sun and the other chasing the moon, circling a third wolf painted in the center of the altar.

"The dagger is prepared, Grand Priest", one of the figures in a cloak says as he hands a pitch black dagger with a wolf skull at the handle to the Grand Priest. The blade dripping with an ominous black liquid.

"Thank you, Raymond," The priest walked to the altar staring at the Wad.

"Please! Please stop! I'm begging you!", Wad's cries resound all around the stone room, but they only reach ears devoid of any semblance of humanity.

"It's only just beginning Wad. Find solace in your pain. Your small life will grant us power,"

"Stop! Stop!" The boy yelled hoarsely as snot and tears decorated his face. His voice growing hoarse as he continues to scream for mercy.

"Stop! I'm sorry! Please stop!", Wad writhed in his chair in an attempt to escape, hoping that Celia would come to her senses and try to help him.

The eyes of the seven hooded figures gleamed with anticipation.

One by one, the wolves illustrated in blood began glowing before turning pitch black.

The priest nodded his head once before stepping back, "It's time to start. Begin the ritual."

"Aaaaaaah!" Wad screamed as he felt the runes that had been carved on his body begin to bleed.

The pain was excruciating, more so than anything he had ever felt.

Instead of the slicing pain of a when the runes were first carved, there was a burning pain of fire.

It was as if every inch of his body was in a blazing inferno.

The Priest smiled widely before he spoke, "We will now preform the sacrifice!"

He nodded towards the other figures.

One by one they stepped towards the altar. The figures, Celia, and the Grand Priest each raised their daggers with their hands trembling in excitement and murderous glints in their eyes.

"N..No..o..," Wad protests weakly, enduring the pain as his eyes looked on in horror. They all figures ignore him and begin stabbing him enthusiastically.

The grotesque sounds of blades penetrating flesh and torture screams made an eerie and monstrous symphony.

Each stab worse than the last as the poison took effect. Enhancing his pain to maddening levels.

Each of their stabs were carefully planned to cause the most pain while keeping him alive till the end of the ritual.

'Why?....why..why…why..why….why..why..whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy...….', Wad thought I'd his head while he still could.

Trying to figure out why they would do this to him. Why she would do this to him…..

Then the night got a crescendo. His pain reached the point where he couldn't even think any more.

Though tears still ran down his cheeks there was no more screaming. Only the sickening sound of panting and daggers cleaving flesh.

The seven figures eventually stopped stabbing when all signs of life where almost gone.

The Priest, Celia, and the rest of the figures walked closer.

Nine people stood smiling and excited while standing in a circle, staring at the almost lifeless body of a child.

The Priest went to stand over Wad's body and finally ended his life with a stab form his dagger to Wad's heart.

The Priest then began to chant feverishly with a look of reverence and awe on his face.

"Ta dette legemet som ditt fartøy og gi oss din tilstedeværelse oh store fortærer og gi oss våre ønsker," the Priest shouts with joy in Old Norse.

An invisible pressure suddenly descends into the room.

Wad's body sudden sits up, as if he is a marionette—rigidly and unnatural.

A grey mist start to pour out from his dead body until only a vaguely humanoid figure made of the mist remains.

Each of them starts to bow their head down all the way till they touch the cold hard floor.

None of them dare to look up except the Priest.

The Grand Priest could not resist the temptation to take a look at the being before him, but when he tried to, he feels an unbearable soul ripping pressure that him that starts to suffocate him.

The priest gasped for air and eventually caught his breath while scarlet blood dripped from his nose.

The being then asks them in an deep and ancient voice, "What is it that you wish?"

"My Lord, your power is awe inspir—", the Priest starts before he is cut off.

"That isn't what I asked", the figure states, cutting him off.

"My lord, the eight of us want to ask for immortality and eternal youth! Celia wishes for her to revive her dead child!", the Priest states seriously.

"Is her child the one who just died?," the being asks.

"No my lord, my son died during child birth, Wad was just a way of coping," Celia says nervously, but her eyes showed excitement at the prospect of having her son back.

"I see", the being states.

The being remains silent for awhile, as if he was thinking.

None of them dared to make a sound and just remain in their bow.

"And shall I revive this boy?", the being asks.

"My lord, please pardon me, I wan—", the Priest gets cut off again.

"Answer the question", the figure states as the pressure around him increases due to his annoyance.

The other eight kneeling people began to bleed from their noses and silently cursing the Priest. It is clear the being in front of them is very straight-forward and wanted simple answers instead of flattery.

"Apologies my lord!", The Priest says as he slams his head onto the ground.

"The boy...is no longer needed, my Lord, " The Priest says with a forced a smile.

The figure turns to Celia and Logan and asks them, "Is he not your child? Did you not raise him? Reviving him would be a trivial task."

They think for a while before speaking.

"He's outlived his usefulness, my lord, in addition, he was raised knowing very little of worldly matters, children can be replaced, reviving him would be pointless my lord," Logan responds.

Celia remains silent, unable to decide. But to avoid any problems with the the Baron or the being she nods in agreement.

The figure stared at the them for a while before saying, "Since he has outlived his usefulness he is no longer needed, correct?"

"Yes my Lord!" The Logan responded quickly without realizing the potential implications behind the question.

The Priest realizes the possible effect that this answer might have, but it is too late.

"Then," the being says, "….why do I need any of you?"

The nine of them begin to feel pure terror in their hearts, wishing they could escape and yet their bodies did not obey their commands to move.

"P-Please My Lor-", one of the cloaked men tried to say something.

"Die."

Their bodies shook violently as gravity seemed to continue to increase on them. Blood pours from their noses and their bones begin to break.

Gruesome screams filled the room and reverberated in it like a chorus of deathly melodies.

"Please it wasn't my fault spare me, he forced me to give up my son!" Celia now looking haggard, distressed, and regretful pleaded desperately wishing to find an escape.

"You dare lie to me?", the figure says emotionlessly.

Emily screamed in pain with tears flow from her eyes as the figure began to increase the pressure on her till all her bones were broken and her skull popped like a bloody balloon.

Soon after, the sound of sickening crunches and pops were all that was able to be heard.

No more screams.

The figure looked down at the nine bloody patches of mush on the floor and then disappeared into the air, taking along the body of Wad.