The War Mother
He didn't know who it was, but he knew they had been carrying him for a while now; he felt it while he lay passed out in her arms. He'd faded in and out of consciousness, and though his vision was blurry, he assumed he'd seen the face of a man.
The smell of the surroundings changed drastically, shifting from the putrid and dry smell of hell to a fresh, humid morning breeze. The shift shook his senses and he awoke.
He opened his eyes again and still saw in a blur but still couldn't believe the skies why blue I'm I dead, he thought, the air doesn't smell this good in hell, and the world doesn't have skies like this anymore, I hope I'm not dead, I hope it's all a dream.
He had been unable to feel a thing the entire time; he was barely able to stay conscious as the strain on his body had been too much.
He slowly regained his senses, and finally, for the first time through the journey, he felt something, something soft and squishy against his side. His senses were all in array; he felt numb or dead in several places and at others, acutely sensitive.
He wondered what he felt on his rescuer's chest; why was it so soft and warm? I don't remember men having these. He still hadn't realized the situation he was in.
He opens his eyes, and his vision slowly heals; he sees through the strands of red hair, the gentle curve of her face, and her pale pink lips. From his angle, he could see her spotless skin, and he felt his heart start beating again.
It's a woman, he thought. The image of her carrying him like a baby through his mind as he felt shy; he wanted to move but couldn't; his body was still dead.
Is she blushing, he thought as he saw a vivid redness on her cheek. With his vision fast healing, he soon realized she wasn't blushing, but the redness had been from a spot of blood she had failed to clean off.
He panicked as he realized he could be at the mercy of a killer; he looked down, trying to find clues as to who she was. With his head paralyzed, he could only move his eyes. As he looked down, he saw his guts hanging out of him and a large gaping read hole at the corner of his abdomen.
Now he wanted to move, and he wanted to move fast, but his body was still dead; he could only bite down on his teeth. The wind blew, and he got a flash of the emblem on her chest, but it was so familiar that he knew what it meant.
It's a war-mother!, he thought, fear began to fill his mind. She's gonna eat me. He could feel his lips begin to shake. He'd heard stories, gory stories of war mothers; it never ends well for those they carried away.
He thought it was best to play dead. He closed his eyes and tried to lower his breathing, but his heart was beating too fast and he felt hotter and hotter around his neck.
He did his best to compose himself so as not to anger her, but he was quickly regaining his senses, and suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his gut. His mind had pushed the pain away, causing him to pass out repeatedly as he couldn't process that much pain at the time.
The pain overwhelmed his senses driving away his immense fear for her and in a fit of rage he screamed at her
"It hurts, it hurts, just what did you do to me?"
She stopped instantly; she was still looking straight ahead. The air felt chill around her, and she dropped her head in a robotic manner, and her bright amber-red eyes shone amidst her expressionless face.
As she looked down at him, he finally saw the other half of her face; it was completely covered in deep black blood, and her eyes beamed out of the darkness.
He knew she could kill him in the blink of an eye; he felt a chill In his heart, finally realizing what he'd done. I've angered her, he thought.
You wouldn't want to see a war-mothers rage at their most tame; they could bring down a castle, at their wildest, they could fuel cataclysms.
The redness in her hair slowly faded away leaving golden glowing locks. The fire in her eyes died out and in its place were eyes that held the ocean and sky in stillness, they were bright blue and cloudy and she spoke in a slow calm voice saying,
"I saved you. Now go to sleep."
He closed his eyes and played dead as his original plan had been, but the pain in his gut was beginning to get worse, he couldn't say a word; he felt so small in her arms. They weren't large, but they were muscular, built from many battles fought, but they still held the feminine feel as those same arms had kept him warm and comfortable the whole journey here.
As he struggled to process his surroundings, he felt an unsettling vulnerability in her powerful presence.
He thought back and realized he'd never heard anything nice about a war mother —They destroyed everything that stood in their way, be it entire cities or gods, and they were known to kidnap young boys and girls and feed them to the war machine.
How do I get out of this? He thought.
She stopped and he wondered what she was up to now. Scary thoughts filled his mind in an instant
Has she brought me home to her sister, will I be her dinner?
She slowly dropped him down, resting him gently on a tree. He opened one of his eyes and looked down at his gut, they were all over the place, scattered about the grass.
He was biting his lip to hold back himself from screaming. He looked up and saw the war mother, standing a few feet from him. She had her back to him as she stared into the river.
He looked at it, too, and thought it was beautiful. It didn't even occur to him that there were no rivers in the wasteland, but why is she staring at it, what does it mean to her? He wondered.
She turned around, and he quickly shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep. She could see him biting hard on his lip, she could tell.
What does she want with me? The war mothers I've heard about would have eaten me by now. Does she want me to die slowly?
He heard her walk toward him. She stops just by his leg and he narrowly opens his eyes, just to a squint. He saw her tying back her blonde hair.
She towered over him like a lighthouse, with him being a small ship under the shadow of her long legs that were completely covered in black leather. She was about six foot eight, and he was a simple five-four.
With her head down, she turned around, and he closed his eyes instantly.
She had a really furious look on her face now. He bravely took a wink, and it terrified him; he couldn't tell if she was hungry and pissed off. he could only hear her walk.
He heard grass squish as she got on her knees. He felt her getting close to him; he thought she smelt like blood, and the red hot branding iron they used back at the farm scared him, even more so when she leaned in close.
Every instinct in his body told him to run, but he still couldn't feel his legs. He didn't have the strength for it and he feared he'd trip on his lower intestines.
The intensity around her raised every hair in his body. He could barely stand the rage that exuded from her. He was sure any moment now she would bite into his neck.
Then he felt her grab his colon. He heard her squeeze it, and he coughed up blood; it felt like it was about to pop.
She gonna eat me
Enough of his upper body was alive again. He could move and feel them, so he tried to run away despite not having the use of his legs
The pain intensified, and he tried to turn away from her, to run away if he could, but she grabbed him by the throat and pressed him against the tree.
"Please don't kill me, I don't wanna die!" He said in a cracked voice as the words were barely able to escape her grip on his throat.
He struggled and fought back against her then he tried to scream but couldn't
"Please don't eat me!"
"Eat you?" She said in an apathetic tone.
She pressed his mouth shut, pinning him down against the tree. He could only stare into her blue eyes, the beauty of which contrasted with her cruel nature.
"There's not much meat on you, kid and I like my lunch with a little more flavor."
He didn't believe her for one second; he felt dread like nothing before, even when facing the monsters in hell; he never felt fear like this.
She grabbed more chunks of his gutt and stuffed it back into his belly, then said,
"I'll feed you to the Warmachine; it loves skinny little things like you."
She began stuffing all his organs back into his belly; he couldn't scream; he could barely breathe with her grip on his throat, let alone scream.
Even with the immense pain running through his whole body, he was too scared to move and didn't have the will to fight anymore.
She could rip him limb from limb, and even dead, she could still feed him to the war machine. She was his worst nightmare come to life
He could not stop the tears from gushing out. He felt her hand on the inside of his ribs. They felt rough like sandpaper.
The harshness in the way she acts and the roughness and brutality of a war mother like her never fell in line with their looks.
They were all beautiful women, with the rage and strength of over a hundred men, they could tear through still while looking innocent.
Her lovely face didn't match the two-ton soul crossbow on her back.
Nor did her blond hair match the daggers she concealed in her cleavage.
She wore a black leather tight-fitting jumpsuit with golden armor bearing the image of a Kraken. She had two guns on each side of her hip, and she wore a roll of large bullets around her waist, and they were tilted and held in place by the curves of her hips.
She stuck her hand into his belly and moved it around. He could feel her toying with his inside.
"Stop it, what are you doing!" He cried
She hit his diaphragm and moved her hands around his side, he could even feel her finger on his spine. The pain was quickly becoming too much. He kicked his legs around without realizing he had regained control of them.
He kicked, trying to break free from her grip; she pounced on him, trying to pin his legs down.
He didn't know when one of his kicks landed directly between her legs.
She grumbled at him and pressed his throat. He realized what he had done
She's gonna kill me, he thought. Then she lessened her grip and pulled out her hand from his belly.
He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She got on her feet and walked off to the river bank, she squatted down and began to wash her hands, and then she said,
"I arranged your organs the best I could. I'm no doctor. Your abilities should take it from there."
What abilities? He wondered. What does she mean?. He looked down at his gut, and the gaping hole was still there; it looked like a carnivore had eaten his way into it; he still could clearly see his organs.
I'm gonna die from this, he thought.
She got on her feet and turned to him, he was still squirming from the pain. He looked up a her and she said
"We've got a long journey ahead of us, worm. You don't know what you've become"