Due to my acrobatic skills, I land safely. After landing, I rushed the guy whose throat I had slashed; he was having trouble breathing, so I put my hand into his open neck wound, gripped his trachea, and pulled it as hard as I could. He didn't make it, to put it mildly. It seems that no one has seen me yet, therefore my cover has not been blown. While making my way across the fields, I pass by a number of armed guys across several houses. Walking through these locations made me realize how fucking massive this plantation was and I began to have significant concerns about the number of people that lived here. This is the first time these fields have felt as big as they do now.
While traveling through the fields, two guards pass by in the direction I was headed. They came to a halt right in front of me and began conversing with each other. Needless to say, I had to wait for these jerks to stop chatting and start working. If I can't walk by without being seen like an idiot, I may as well listen in.
I noticed a single man who was coming towards the two guards and says, "Hey gentlemen, the main house is in the middle of a celebration, have you guys enjoyed yourselves yet?"
"No sir, we were busy looking for the black kid who fled all day," the gentlemen on the left answered.
As I lay on the crop field, the other man who hasn't spoken turns around to face my direction, gazing up at the night sky.
I couldn't help but think to myself, "You have to be kidding me, move your face someplace else, jackass."
"Well, there's a lot of fun going on right now and we can thank him for it. Even Sir Thomas and his son are in attendance, and let me tell you, what that kid did tonight to that slave girl was terrible," the man says as he starts to chuckle.
After hearing what the guard said, it made me question what was really going on. Why are they rejoicing when one of their properties has been liberated? It's strange, but it implies that everyone's hands are full. Tonight may turn out to be a lucky night for me.
"Sounds like everyone is having fun, tell them we'll stop by and to not end the party yet," the guard says as they continue to walk by.
As soon as they've moved on, I raced past to the main house where an unplanned celebration does seems to be occurring. I approached the stables, but strangely, there were no guards to be found. As I crept up to the stable doors to open them, two white guys approached carrying someone towards the stables. In the meantime, I decided to climb the stable doors like a spider climbing its webs and conceal my presence at the top of the stables. I heard the sound of someone proceeding to unlock the stable doors and took a peek at what was going on.
"You may have sold off your own, Jacob Gaskin, but not soon enough, you rat,
In a giddy tone, the second guy said, "Maybe if you spoke sooner this outcome would've been different, their blood is on your hands!"
I waited for the guys to depart before going inside and discovering one of the brothers, who was beaten and bruised.
"Jacob what were they talking about?" I said angrily.
"Why are you back here?" he moaned.
"My goal was to rescue the others once I've made my escape. Although, I could have begun the breakout from inside, it would have been much more difficult since escape attempts from within are common. My strategy was to eliminate the the guards from the outside in."
Originally, the guards wouldn't have known of my escape until it was time to make our escape, but the look of sheer terror in Jacob's face as I told him what I had planned to do told me all I needed to know. My own fellow slave had sold me out. I grasped his neck and pulled him closer to my breath.
"Now where are they?" I said furiously.
"They're in the house," he murmurs.
Desperation flooded my spirit at that time and I found it difficult to breathe. I forced myself to stand up with my hands on my head. I couldn't weep for some reason — all I felt was a huge stone in my throat. The reason I almost passed out right now is because the main home included all of the torture equipment and the basement is a house of terror where we are branded and tormented. It was almost a guaranteed death if one was brought to the main home and wasn't part of the maid crew. Because I was tormented inside of it on a weekly basis for the slave master's amusement, I knew it all too well. I had a look on my face that screamed murder whilst hyperventilating and being unable to shed a single tear. When Jacob notices this, he raises his hand in a protective posture, weeping and pleading with me not to harm him. I decided not to further injure him because of the condition of his hand, which had two newly cut fingers and a bleeding mouth with at least a few teeth removed.
I made my way to the rear entrance of the home where I could hear the owners and their guests laughing and conversing. It enraged me to hear their reckless banter. I have no idea what they've done to my friends and family, but I'm going to make sure they all pay for it.
"Thank you for tonight, I needed to vent some steam," says Sir Thomas, a man with blond hair and blue eyes, speaking to the slave master and his wife.
His child, who appears to be around seven years old, smiled and said, "I loved the curly-haired one."
I clenched my teeth hoping they were talking about someone else and hoping my friends and family were still alive. This party has around twenty five people; I need to figure out a method to go to the basement. I began scoping the inside of the house for any possible weapons when I spotted some firearms hung on the wall. There's no way some of them aren't carrying any sidearms. They won't be able to reload as quickly as I can stab them though. Still, I'll have to watch out for those.
Then, I've also spotted a knife being used by a woman to cut open a freshly cooked turkey. That blade seems to be ideal for castration — I should head for it as soon as I can. Unbeknownst to me, someone takes a strong grip of the back of my left arm and with their right arm, they push me by the neck. They force me towards the party area where everyone had a surprised expression on their face.
"Isn't that your negro who escaped?" one party attendee said.
"Wait, what the hell is going on — why is he here? Do you have any idea how much money I've lost as a result of the people I've murdered because of you?" said the slave master.
As I recall the reasons for the lack of guards at the stable, the labelling of Jacob as a rat and then the reason for this entire get together party, what he just said to me led to tears welling up in my eyes. I take a deep breath and prepare to scream.
"Ahhhh — acckkkkk!"
But the white guy behind of me stops me by holding my throat even tighter. Even the seven-year-old kid gives me this sarcastic entitled look as everyone laughs while staring at me in my tearful eyes.
"...."
That's when I snapped.
"They will pay for this," I thought to my self.
"You will pay for this," I said.
"Who will make us, you fool, definitely not your family," the little kid replied.
That was the last straw. My eyes rolled to the back of my head in anger and all I wanted to do at the time was to murder them and bring their faces to the point of despair. I take the knife in my waistband with my free hand and stab the guy holding me in the right arm. I pierced deep enough that I was certain it had hit his bone.
"You son of a..." he cried out loud as he let go of me to grab his arm as he took a few steps back.
I took advantage of his surprise and rushed towards him. Expecting me to punch him, he raised both of his arms to block, but he was mistaken — I gave him a swift and powerful kick in the jewels, bringing him to his knees in tears. I grab him by the hair and stab him on the side of his head with the blade.
Everyone was shocked until the slave owner screamed, "Grab the firearms!"
But I was too quick; I was in a frantic rush for his neck before the words even came out of his lips. Him not being a total moron, he managed to evade my attack. This puts me in the middle between two sides with the left being the seven-year-old and his father and on the right, the slave owner and his wife. I make a split-second choice to glance at his wife and feint going for her, and this abomination of human filth flees in the other direction to avoid being stabbed. Thankfully, he was still near, so I impale the middle of his stomach with the blade and escape to the right, tearing his intestines in the process. I make a mad-dash towards Sir Thomas, but right before I get there.
BANGGGG!!
Someone fires a shot at me, but it ends up hitting Sir Thomas. Three men had drawn their weapons and were ready to fire at any moment.
To slow them down, I shouted in a condescending tone, "You morons, are those things only for show?!"
The sweat dripping down their foreheads tell me they don't want to strike the woman or the boy. As the many gentlemen fire their weapons in my direction, I realize my knife is bent and in no condition to impale anybody, so I use Sir Thomas's dead corpse as a shield as I make my way to the dining table.
The slave owner's wife cries, "Cease your gunfire or you'll hit me," as she sits there weeping, soiling her blue clothing.
As I approach the dinner table, I throw Sir Thomas's corpse towards the gunmen as an attempt to distract them as I immediately brandish the large knife that was used to carve the turkey.
"I have to take them out with one slash and I have to be quick," I reminded myself.
While they were struck by Sir Thomas's corpse, I swept the first man's feet and struck him straight in the heart. The second man was stunned in fear as I stabbed his jaw from the bottom of his neck, impaling to the roof of his mouth, which in retrospect, was a mistake on his part. The third guy points his gun at me, but nothing happens as he pulls the trigger. I stare at him, shocked by the near-death experience and sigh.
"You know what's coming next, right?"
I knife him in his throat and the blade exits through the back of his neck, killing him instantly. I calmly turn around to see the seven-year-old kid holding a single-action shot rifle. Instead of giving him the opportunity to aim it at me, I grab a woman kneeling by the table and stab her in the spine, paralyzing her. As she screams in agonizing pain, I hold her in front of me as a shield.
Her seeing the young boy aiming the gun at us, she says, "Please don't shoot me — I knew your father, he wouldn't want you to be a killer."
The boy, who cries, closes his eyes and fires, striking the lady in the throat. I laugh and charge at him.
"Open your eyes next time, doofus. Isn't this your auntie?"
I kick him up into the air. As he lands, I punch him as hard as I can, smashing him into a wall and shaking the entire house.
"A well deserved death," I said out loud.