03 Encounter

It was late at night, the only sound being the gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze. Zoran Thorne sat in his wheelchair by the window, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls of his modest home. It was times like these he could reflect on his thoughts, under the calm starry night. Even though he was now in a new world, with a new life, he just couldn't forget his past.

Zoran was interrupted from his train of thought when he heard a faint, muffled cry drifting through the open window. Zoran's ears perked up, his eyes narrowing, even though the cry was barely audible, he knew the sound well-the sound of fear, of helplessness, of pain. Something he has heard countless times in his past life. His body tensed up instinctively, he strained his ears, catching snippets of harsh voices along with the cries of children. The sounds were coming from a forest clearing nearby.

His brow furrowed, Zoran reached for his weapons, a small dagger he found from the chest, as well as a blowpipe and a small pouch of darts that he crafted himself. These weren't ordinary darts, some of them are laced with fast-acting tranquilizer, enough to knock out a grown man within seconds. Some were tipped with deadly poison. He slid the weapons into the pocket of his cloak, his fingers brushing through the fabric as he steeled himself for what was to come.

Navigating his wheelchair out of the estate, Zoran moved with practiced ease, his upper body strength compensating for his crippled legs. The night air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. He moved quickly, his movement silent as he approached the source of the noise.

As he drew closer to the source, the sounds became clearer. The harsh voices were cruel, filled with disdain and malice. He could hear the crackling of a campfire, the rustling of chains, and the muffled sobs of children. Zoran's face tightened, he gripped his blowpipe as he quietly reached the edge of the clearing.

Peeking through the bushes, he saw them, four men. Three were sitting around the campfire, with the looks of bandits, discussing vulgar topics. While near the edge of the clearing, one fat, ugly bastard adorned with premium silk clothes and expensive jewelries, was cursing and thrashing on a group of children. The children were huddled together, their wrists and ankles bound with steel chains. They were thin, almost skeletal, their clothes little more than rags.

"Fucking lowly pests! Staining my beautiful silk! Do you know how much this costs!" The fat bastard continued beating the children, they flinched with each hit, their bodies trembling as they tried to make themselves as small as possible. This sight sparked a wave of fury through Zoran, his chest tightening with rage. But he knew better than to charge in recklessly. His legs were a constant reminder of his limitations, but his mind was sharp, and he had the element of surprise on his side

Zoran steadied his breathing, raising the blowpipe to his lips, he took careful aim on the bastard beating the children. With a short puff, the dart was sent flying, embedding itself in the man's neck. The man staggered, his eyes widening in surprise before he collapsed to the ground, unconscious, and soon dead with the deadly venom working its way through his system.

The other men instantly leaped to their feet, their hands reaching for their weapons as they looked around wildly. "What the fuck was that!?" one of them shouted, his voice tinged with fear. They couldn't see Zoran in the shadows, his dark cloak blending seamlessly in the night.

One by one, Zoran took them down, like reaper harvesting death. Each dart found its target, sending the men into their inevitable death. The last one tried to flee, his panic was obvious with his frantic movements. Zoran's final dart hit him mid-stride, and he fell face-first onto the ground.

The clearing went silent, except for the crackling of fire and soft cries of the children. Zoran waited for a moment, ensuring that all the men were dead before he emerged from the shadows. He moved with caution, his eyes scanning for any more signs of potential danger. When he was certain that everything was clear, he approached the children.

The girls recoiled as he drew near, their eyes wide with terror. They were six in total, Their age ranged from what looked like six to twelve years old, each with different characteristics and features. Zoran had learned that there are other species aside from human in this world from the books he found within the library of the estate. Their faces were dirty, their eyes hollow from fear and hunger. Their bodies bore the marks of abuse, bruises, cuts and welts all over their sickening pale skin. 

Zoran felt a deep pang in his heart, the sight stirring memories he had long buried. He got down his wheelchair, matching the height of the girls, his eyes softening. "It's over now." he said gently, his voice low and calming. "You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you."

The girls didn't respond at first, their fear too deeply ingrained. Zoran knew it would take time for them to trust him. He took off their chains and stayed with them, speaking in gentle tones, reassuring them with words of comfort. Slowly, the tension in their bodies began to ease, the terror in their eyes slowly replaced with that of exhaustion.

Once Zoran was sure that they were able to move, Zoran went on to cleaning the scene. He dragged the bodies into the forest, burying them in shallow pits. He put out and scattered the remains of the campfire and gathered everything into a bag, intending to dispose of it later. After double checking the scene and ensuring no trace of the night's event was left behind did he turn back to the girls.

"Come with me," he said, extending a hand. "I have a place where you'll be safe."

The walk back to the estate was slow, Zoran guiding the girls through the forest with care. The girls clung to each other, their steps were hesitant, but they continued following him, believing in Zoran's words. When they reached the house, Zoran led them inside, seating them near the fireplace. The warmth seem to bring a bit of color back to their pale faces.

Zoran brought some water, clean cloths, and some medicinal herbs and ointment. Gently tending to their wounds and washing away the grime from their body. He prepared a simple meal, bread with beef stew. watching as the girls ate hungrily, their eyes carefully looking at him. The sight stirred something deep within him-a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.

As the girls finished their meal and began to relax, Zoran spoke again, this time filled with resolve. "You don't need to be afraid anymore," he said. "This is your home now. I'll protect you, no harm will come to you here."

At that moment, Zoran found a purpose for this piece of land that he had inherited. He finally had the means the carry out what he wasn't able to do in his past life. A sanctuary for these poor children. He would dedicate himself to ensuring that no harm will befell these kids.