Acorns

"Take her out of the pit!" The red Orc shouted. 

The Orc's piled into the hole. 

They grabbed Olive's arms and legs and tugged on her hair. 

The Orc's pulled Olive from the pit and dragged her across the ground. 

Rocks and twigs scratched her skin, but she never bled. 

Olive tried to resist, she squirmed and fought, but the Orc's grip was simply too strong. 

Their hands clamped down on her wrists and ankles like chains and when she resisted, the Orcs tightened their grip. 

They squeezed and when they squeezed, Olive felt her bones compress. 

She felt her muscles squirm around her, ripped off the bone by the aggression from the Orcs. 

Then, an Orc threw her in the air. 

Olive soared through the sky for but a moment. 

But then, she crashed down. 

She hit the ground and tumbled. Dirt in her face. Leaves in her hair. 

Her shirt was torn and her white stomach was fully exposed to the sun. 

Before she could gather herself, the Orcs tied her up. 

They bound her wrists and ankles and hoisted her up into the air. 

Olive now hung five feet above the ground. 

Her wrists and ankles were tied and her hands were slowly turning blue as her circulation was cut off. 

Olive was spread in the air and her face was perfectly captured in the light of day. 

"Cut her." The red Orc said. 

An Orc approached Olive with a piece of silver scrap in hand. 

Although raised above the ground, Olive was now the perfect height for the Orcs. Her stomach was situated right beside the Orc's head. 

The Orc pressed the strip of silver against her abdomen. 

Blood drew. 

The Orc added strength to its push. 

Blood flowed. It ran down Olive's body and painted her white skin red. 

Yet still, Olive didn't flinch. She stared into the red eyes of her captor. 

"Break her leg." The red Orc happily contested Olive's eye contact. 

Another Orc approached. This one grabbed Olive's left leg and began fiddling with it. 

The Orc first began to twist it, although not enough to break it. 

Only enough for it to hurt like hell. 

The Orc spun Olive's leg around and, for this, Olive had to grit her teeth. 

At first, she felt her bones dislocate. A loud pop resonated through her body and the pain rapidly intensified. 

Then, the Orc quickly spun her leg back and forth. 

Olive felt her tendons rip, her muscles tear, and her vessels pop. 

And just when Olive was about to cry out. 

*twist* 

The Orc spun her leg around entirely. 

*crack* 

Olive's eyes slightly bulged. 

The pain was unbearable. It burned like fire and stung like venom. 

Her eyes grew watery, but her gaze didn't waver. 

Olive still glared at the red Orc. 

"Now break the other one." 

Suddenly, the whole process repeated. 

The Orc grabbed her right leg. This was the leg blood dripped from. The leg beneath the open gash in Olive's abdomen. 

Before brutalizing her, the Orc sniffed between Olive's legs. It licked its lips and ran its tongue along Olive's inner thigh. 

The Orc savored the taste of her blood. 

Then, 

*twist* 

*crack* 

All of Olive's toes were facing behind her and suddenly, what feeling she still had in them was waning. 

Her body was slowly going numb. 

"WHOOOOO!!" 

The sound of a horn blared through the forest. 

In response, all of the Orc's present turned around and looked at the red Orc. 

Meanwhile, the red Orc turned around and looked at their camp in the distance. 

"Intruders?" The red Orc said barely above a whisper. 

In a moment, she disregarded Olive. 

"To arms!" She roared. 

"OOH - OOH - AHH - AHH!" The Orc's chanted in unison. 

They trudged through the grass and tore towards their camp with the red Orc leading. 

Suddenly, Olive was left alone. 

She looked down at her body. 

Blood still pooled from her open wound and dripped unto the forest floor and her legs, well… 

Her legs were unrecognizable. 

Twisted backwards, they were beginning to turn purple. 

And her left leg, the first to go, was abused even worse. 

From her left knee, bones exploded from her skin and poked out into the fresh air. 

Draped in the air, Olive looked like a play-thing and when she remembered the feeling of the Orc's coarse tongue on her inner-thigh. 

Olive shook her head. 

It was too disgusting to remember! 

*bonk* 

Out of nowhere, something small smacked the back of Olive's head. 

Olive didn't mind it, however, as it was probably just a falling acorn from the tree's above her. 

*bonk* 

Then it happened again. Something small and hard hit the back of Olive's head. 

This time, Olive ignored it out of spite! 

*bonk* 

Olive spun her head around as far as it could go. Flames in her eyes, Olive wanted blood. 

She looked around, high to low. She scanned the grass beneath her then the tree branches above her. 

Still, Olive couldn't see anyone. 

*bonk* 

This time, Olive caught it! 

From the corner of her eye, Olive saw the mysterious hard thing falling. 

Like she thought, it was an acorn, but she still couldn't find the perpetrator who threw it! 

Olive's eyes were blazing. 

Her vigilance was at its max. 

*bonk* 

'There!' Olive's gaze narrowed. 

Beyond the grassy field, underneath a tree's trunk, a small wooden figure jumped up and down whilst crazily tossing its arms in the air. 

The small wooden creature, having noticed Olive's gaze, waved at her excitedly. 

It was a small creature and one foreign to Olive's eyes. 

Its head was an acorn, quite literally. 

Its body and arms were made from various types of sticks and leaves all recklessly tied together with some sort of twine or twig. 

It looked like the nutcracker's distant cousin. 

Once the acorn little guy got Olive's attention, it stopped throwing acorns at her head. Instead, it began to climb one of the trees of which Olive was tied to. 

The acorn man struggled intensely. 

His twig fingers were barely strong enough to support his overall weight and he lacked the grip strength required to drag himself up a tree. 

Almost comically, the acorn man tapped his foot along the forest floor while rubbing his chin. 

The acorn man cast his gaze upon the tree's trunk. How could he get up? 

Then, the acorn man triumphantly stuck his little finger in the air! 

Yes, an idea! 

The acorn man quickly looked towards Olive. 

He took off! 

The acorn man beelined into the grass that toppled over him! 

He bulldozed through it! 

The acorn man arrived right beneath Olive. He stood beside the puddle of blood that had collected over the hour and looked around. 

In the distance, the acorn man spotted what he was looking for. 

The strips of cloth from Olive's shirt that had torn off earlier! 

The little acorn man collected the minced parcels of Olive's shirt. 

He interweaved the bits of cloth between his twig fingers and toes. 

Then, the little acorn man returned to the tree trunk. 

He began climbing. 

The torn parcels of cloth clung to the trunk like velcro allowing the acorn man to make his way towards the tree's crown. 

And after a few minutes of climbing, the acorn man arrived at the crown where the tree's branches began to split off. 

The acorn man picked a branch and began steadily walking across it. 

He arrived at the rope tied to one of Olive's wrists. 

But while standing next to the rope, even the acorn man pitied his small stature! 

The rope's width was the size of the acorn man's head! 

How was he supposed to cut such a thick rope?! 

***

A few hours prior. 

In the densely populated forest. 

Clark ran with all his might! 

He didn't have much information to work with, in fact, most of what he knew was useless. 

He had been told how large the Orcs were. 

Told how they fight and think. 

He knew they were aggressive and unruly. 

Over the course of the past month and half, Clark has learned most of what you could learn about the Orcs; that is, without personally interacting with one. 

That's right. Clark has never seen an Orc. 

He's never fought an Orc. 

Never even spied on one. 

All of Clark's information was second-hand. Sure, it was better than nothing — but it wasn't enough. 

All Clark really knew was that Olive was in danger. 

That and the direction Teddy and Morgan had come from. 

So with those two pieces of information, Clark made a decision; albeit a bit of a hasty one. 

Clark decided to charge into the forest towards, presumably, the Orc's camp — or wherever Teddy and Morgan had come from. 

Clark decided that he was going to save Olive and in doing so, he fantasized over one particular outcome. 

"Oh Clark! You saved my life! How could I ever repay you!" Imaginary Olive nuzzled up to Clark's chest. 

She leaned into his chest and towards his ear, brushing her cheek against his, "Oh I know!" 

"You can just have me!" Imaginary Olive whispered into Clark's ear. Clark felt her warm breath blow against his ear. 

Clark's eyes rolled back and. 

'Heaven!!' Clark's mind blurred euphoric. 

Whilst running through the forest daydreaming, however, a disgustingly pungent odor wafted into Clark's nose. 

Immediately, Clark's fantasy was broken. 

He was painfully ripped from heaven and spat back out into reality. 

Clark stopped. He squeezed his nose shut and looked around the forest. 

The stench had to be coming from somewhere. 

So, Clark explored the forest. 

Then, after searching through a field of grass sprawled out before him, he pushed himself past a wall of brush. 

The moment he did so, the foul odor crashed into his nostrils like a truck. 

Clark recoiled back! The stench was abhorrent!

Even his eyes were forced shut as the stench was so acidic that they burned otherwise! 

"Bl-…" Clark fought the urge to puke! 

He slid his eyes open and through rapidly forming tears, Clark tried to find the source of the horrible smell. 

But the moment he opened his eyes, Clark found what he was looking for. 

A field of corpses spread around Clark. 

Most of the corpses were jade, belonging to the Orcs, but in the center of the field, or battlefield rather, human remains littered the grass. 

Their corpses were mutilated with arrows.

There were three of them. Three humans. 

They were dressed in all black, although now it looked more brown now that the blood had congealed. 

"Bleugh!!" Clark couldn't hold it in any longer and puked in the field. 

He emptied his stomach until he started coughing up bile. 

At this point, his esophagus was well bruised and his throat burned like fire peppers. 

Through the tears and snot, Clark wiped his drool on his shirt and forced himself across the field, to the bodies of the three men. 

Raised in a religious household, all Clark wanted to do was close their eyes before leaving. 

He wanted to give them one last ounce of dignity before the Lord above took them. 

Clark trudged to the men's side. 

He gazed upon their features. He wanted to recoil and look away, it was the most brutal thing he had ever seen, and yet he forced himself to look. 

He forced himself to engrave this moment. 

He forced himself to remember. 

At this moment, Clark's worldview shifted. It was no longer black against white, race against race, color v. color. 

At this moment, it was us against them. 

It was man against monster. 

Clark placed his palm upon the deceased man's head. 

He closed both the man's eyes and his own. 

Clark offered a prayer. 

Then, 

[Unsuitable Vessel] 

The Status spoke to him. 

[Hint: The Vessel must be made by the Tinker] 

[Hint: A Soul cannot be placed in an organic Vessel] 

[Human Soul (1) Obtained]