Chapter - 24
Shackled Nightmares
The heavy silence of the camp was broken only by the dull thud of shovels hitting dirt. Sam worked side by side with Teron, hands blistered and aching, sweat running down his spine in sticky rivers. Around them, the rest of the captives labored in near silence, digging trenches, shifting logs, and obeying barked orders without resistance. No one had the strength for rebellion—not here.
Sam's arms moved like they were no longer his. The world around him felt foreign, suffocating. This place wasn't meant for anyone human. It was savage, heartless.
Then came the sound again.
The ground vibrated beneath hooves. Another horn echoed through the forest—a long, grim note that made Sam's blood run cold.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the mounted soldiers arriving—ten of them. Their formation was tight and intimidating. But it wasn't the soldiers who froze his breath.
It was the man leading them.
He rode ahead of the others with an air of effortless dominance, dressed in blackened armor with red trim, his blade gleaming at his side. But his presence was more than just physical—it exuded authority like poison from a fang. His eyes, sharp and void of empathy, swept over the camp like he owned every soul within it.
Sam felt his heart seize in his chest.
**That's him.**
The man from earlier—the monster. The one who had assaulted that soulless woman in the depths of the forest.
Lieutenant **Kadran.**
The coldness in Sam's limbs spread like frost. His breath caught as a new fear gripped him—not of Kadran, but of **Garrik**, the sergeant who had witnessed Sam's brief freedom earlier in the day. Garrik had seen him. Had even spoken to him. What if he recognized Sam now? What if he reported him?
But to Sam's disbelief, Garrik didn't so much as glance in his direction.
He was entirely focused on welcoming Kadran, bowing low, his voice full of obsequious praise.
Sam watched from a distance, pretending to dig while trying to make out the conversation. But they were too far, and the murmurs of slaves and officers drowned out all but the sharpest words. He saw gestures, nods, the exchange of silver coins, and then—**the slap.**
Kadran struck Garrik so hard that the sergeant hit the dirt face-first. Blood trickled from his lips as the crowd of soldiers turned away, pretending not to see the humiliation. Even without hearing the words, Sam could **feel** the threat in the air.
A sharp chill crept down his spine. The horror he had seen earlier wasn't an isolated act—it was a **pattern**, a **system**, and this camp was its very heart.
Sam turned his eyes back to the dirt, trying to focus on digging, to suppress the shaking in his limbs.
But something else pulled his attention. From the corner of the camp, Garrik was approaching a low structure covered in a heavy black cloth. Voices murmured from within—feminine, trembling.
Sam looked up just in time to see Garrik rip away the cloth and bark at the woman inside.
"Come on, you whore. Sir Kadran's calling for you."
Her hair spilled out in tangled waves of **pure white**, catching the moonlight like snow. Her skin was pale, her frame thin, her movements ghostlike. She had once been beautiful—perhaps even radiant—but now\... her eyes were dull, her expression hollow. She looked like someone already dead.
Garrik didn't wait for compliance. He yanked the iron collar around her neck and began dragging her from the cell. The woman resisted weakly, her body stumbling, knees scraping against the ground.
"Please... please don't... I don't want to go..." she whimpered.
Her voice was fragile, a cracking whisper. But Garrik didn't care. He dragged her through the dirt like an object.
Sam's eyes widened. Something **shifted** inside him.
It was like a knot tightening in his chest. **Pain. Sharp. Sudden.**
A stabbing sensation in his forehead pulsed like a forgotten memory clawing its way to the surface. He clutched his chest as if the pain were real—as if his heart were being crushed.
**Who is she?**
**Why... do I feel this?**
A face flashed in his mind—unclear, fragmented—but familiar.
He staggered backward slightly, his shovel slipping from his grip. He looked around for Teron, to ask if he saw the girl too... but Teron was gone. The space where he had been digging was empty.
Sam's eyes snapped back to the girl as Garrik dragged her past the soldiers, up the slope toward the larger tents.
..................
Inside the tent, the air was heavy with the stench of roasted meat and strong wine. A single lantern flickered, casting twisted shadows on the walls. Kadran lounged shirtless on a fur-lined chair, devouring monster meat with primal hunger. His muscular frame gleamed with sweat and oil, his expression twisted in anticipation.
A rustle of canvas, and Garrik entered with the white-haired girl, dragging her forward by the collar.
"We've brought her, sir."
Kadran didn't look up from his plate. "Bring her in."
Garrik shoved the girl forward. She stumbled, collapsing to her knees.
Kadran finally raised his head, smiling.
He tossed three silver coins to the floor. "Take it. Enjoy yourself tonight—pick any girl from the fresh stock. But make sure no one disturbs me."
Garrik scrambled for the coins. "Thank you, sir! Your generosity knows no bounds."
"Now get out."
Garrik bowed and left.
Once the tent flap fell shut, Kadran exhaled deeply and turned to the table beside him where a fresh meal awaited—thick cuts of roasted beast meat, steaming bread, and a jug of honeyed wine. He seated himself slowly, savoring the scent as though it were the start of some sacred ritual.
Fork in hand, he began devouring the meat with measured satisfaction, chewing slowly, swallowing like a man rebuilding his strength. His eyes, however, never strayed far from the girl who knelt trembling near the tent wall.
"Eat," he said casually, gesturing to a smaller plate set out for her. "I need you strong. Healthy. The night is long."
She didn't move.
He looked up from his food, the edge of threat beginning to enter his voice. "Eat."
Under the weight of his glare, the girl hesitated—then slowly, shakily, crawled forward. She picked at a piece of bread with trembling fingers. The moment it touched her lips, her sobs escaped in quiet, broken gasps.
"I don't want to be here," she whispered. "Please… let me go…"
Kadran said nothing. He watched her with detached interest, chewing slowly, licking the grease from his fingers.
"You'll stay," he murmured at last. "Until I've had my fill of you."
When he was done eating, he set his goblet aside and leaned back, eyes fixed on her.
"Take off your clothes."
She froze. The bread in her hand slipped to the ground.
"I said," he repeated softly, "take them off."
Her lips parted, but no sound came. She staggered to her feet, eyes wide, stunned into silence.
Then she took a step back.
Another.
And then her knees buckled beneath her. She fell, her back hitting the ground with a soft thud, breath knocked from her lungs.
Kadran didn't move. He watched her coldly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the arm of his chair, already imagining the night ahead.
As the tent flap fell closed, the girl shrank back. Her eyes darted around the room, her breathing ragged. Kadran stood and removed the remaining cloth around his waist, stepping toward her with a predator's smile.
She sobbed, trembling.
"Please... don't... I'll do anything, just... don't touch me... please..."
"Shh," Kadran cooed. "I won't hurt you. I just want your body tonight. That's all. Tomorrow, you'll be back in the market like a good little slave."
Her tears fell faster now. "Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to deserve this? I just want to see my family again…"
Kadran chuckled darkly.
"Family?" he repeated, grinning. "You still think they're alive?"
She froze.
"I had them fed to monsters two days ago. Screaming, crying, calling your name."
"No..."
"I watched the beasts tear them apart. It was... beautiful."
Her scream tore through the tent, raw and full of anguish.
Kadran only laughed harder. "You see? You have no one now. Just me."
He grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. She didn't even resist. Her body went limp, mind retreating into shock. Tears streamed down her face as her clothes were ripped away, and the light in her eyes faded further.
She wasn't here anymore.
And no one would come for her.
---------------------
📢 Author's Note 📢
Hey legends!
Did you enjoy this chapter? If you did, Smash that POWER STONE like you're smashing kadran face ! 💥
Every vote is a warm hug to this humble author—and helps me keep the chapters flowing faster than a ninja on caffeine.
💎 1 Power Stone = 1 push closer to greatness
🥤 1 Comment = 1 virtual Coke delivered to my desk
📚 1 Collection = 1 more reason for me to write instead of doomscroll
So don't be shy—drop a stone, say hi, and let me know your theories!
Love y'all. Until the next chapter—stay curious, stay wild. ⚔