He walked the thin dark tunnel for what felt like ages. Dorian had never really appreciated the true size of The Structure. Its walls towered high into the sky, the rough-hewn stone seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding desert landscape. The walls were several meters thick and stretched endlessly in both directions. The Structure itself was surrounded by a barren wasteland, with nothing but dunes and rocky outcroppings.
There was an eerie silence that hung over the place, broken only by the occasional gust of wind that sent plumes of sand swirling through the air. Dorian ran his fingers along it. It remained perfectly intact. For all the dust storms and hundreds of years against the elements, there wasn't a single scratch, chip, or dent. The stone was almost smooth. Impeccable. No scars or hints of these supposed horrors and terrors of the outside world.
Dorian clutched the key card Almanon had given to him. Once all the recruits had exited the tunnel, it was coded for one-time use only, to allow for the current protectors to finally come home. But where are they? Dorian thought as he watched the recruits file out of the tunnel one by one. Keltin, Hosanna, Bryn, no surprises there. He couldn't help but light up when he saw Myka. That makes six. Seven, eight, nine… Then nothing. Nine total. Where was Skye?
"Settle in—" Dorian shouted, but he was quickly cut off by Bryn.
"Settle in everyone. Come on." Bryn commanded. "First things first. This isn't a drill. Stay alert. The previous recruits will be with us for the first month. Make sure the tradeoff is clean, the food storage is fully stocked, yadda, yadda, yadda. Maybe they'll have some words of wisdom to pass on, but it's more than likely they've done nothing but watch the wind blow for the past five years," Bryn continued. Though most of the recruits weren't fully paying attention. I mean this was their first time outside, it was incredible. A vast world that now seemed endless lay before them. Myka aimlessly wandered off, taking in her surroundings. Hosanna went to examine the supply shed. It was only a few dozen meters away. She entered a specific key code they were all given, and when the door slid open she immediately jumped back.
"Oh god. It's all. Rotten," Hosanna said while plugging her nose. The shed was supposed to contain fresh meats, fruits, and vegetables. A measured amount would be sent every week through a small access tunnel, miles below the surface. This too was designed to prevent anyone from getting in.
"Finally! We were-ah wunderin when you'd be relievin us," A man cackled as he rounded one of the dunes, along with six others. Their uniforms were weather-beaten, the colors faded, the fabric torn and frayed. "Borin shift-ah. No much to report," He said. The man had an awkward tuff of hair growing from the back of his head. Not enough hair to turn into a ponytail or braid. Not really enough hair to do anything. He peered at the food shed. "You tellin me there's been food here the entire time—" the man's words were cut short by a smack on the head. A man, no, this guy looked more like an ogre, a half-giant. Towered over them all. He brushed the tuff hair man to the side. Dorian stepped forward.
"You. Look different?" He said stupidly. The ogre just grunted, stepping through the recruits towards the food shed. He sniffed a maggot-filled ham bone and without hesitation, he sucked the putrid meat down to the bone.
"Oh god," Hosanna dry heaved. But the man continued. Shoving mold-covered berries and rot-filled apples into his mouth. An albino girl giggled and clapped as if she was watching a carnival show.
"So uhm. Time to change duties right? Posts I mean? Sorry, we've been outside for so long. How do we get inside again? Just point, we can do the rest," the man with the tuff of hair said. Bryn took a closer look. His nails were finely sharpened, ten deadly blades at his fingertips.
The rest of the disheveled group nodded and waddled past the Gifted towards The Structure. Looking for a way to get in. The closer they got to Bryn the more vicious they looked. Pale white eyes and irises. One of them flashed a moldy-toothed smile. What caught her attention were all the scars along their forearms and calves. Every inch of exposed skin was cut and damaged.
"That's. Not the way. You need to--" one of the gifted said. A small girl named Gemin, but once again Bryn cut in.
"We were just sent out here to check up on everyone. You all seem to be doing okay," Bryn's tone was calm and collected. Despite her knees wobbling ever so slightly. She would never admit she was afraid, not even to herself.
"That's not what the boy said!" The albino girl pouted. The man with the tuff of hair spoke loudly over her.
"Come onna. Been a long shift. Tell ya what. We'll come to relieve you of duty as soon as we get sum rest. Promise. Looka we're so worn we can't even remember where that entrance is. Remind me which direction-ya? I always gettin turned around out here." he said. Dorian clutched the key card tightly in his pocket once again and subconsciously took a few steps back.
Myka had distanced herself even further from the group. Something had caught her attention, it was drawing deep like it was leading her from within. Pulling her. Intuition lead her over the next dune until she reached a tarp. Myka screamed as she lifted one of the corners.
The disheveled group whipped their heads around, their tone turning serious.
"Oh. You canna ignore that," The man with the tuff of hair said as he began to approach Dorian.
"Enuff," the ogre of a man stumbled out of the shed. He surveyed the recruits, then in a brilliantly precise fashion picked Gemin up by the collar. "How we get in?" the man grumbled.
"I uhm. It's well. I," Gemin fumbled over her words. Petrified. As Dorian watched the scene unfold his stomach sank and his thoughts raced. The ogre of a man shook her violently.
"How!" he screamed.
"I don't. He has the. I. I." Gemin couldn't finish her sentence. Too afraid of the gargantuan barbarian.
"You no good. No need for you," the ogre said as he took out a long serrated blade. Plunging it into her chest, dragging it down through her diaphragm and stomach. He gutted Gemin right in front of them.
Myka pulled the tarp off further, revealing at least a dozen corpses that had been picked clean. Nothing but the bones remained. There were notch marks and cracks along the skeletons. A skull sat at her feet and the top had been completely removed.
"Ah come on Blunf ya barbarian. We says we weren't gonna go about it this way. Least not right away. " The tuff haired man licked his lips. It forked out like a snake and his two front teeth were missing. "Truth to ya — we're grateful we are. We'd been wandering these badlands for a long time. We'd heard rumors of others. Course that's all they were. But findin ya. Means ain't no rumor. Means there are more out there," He once again licked his lips and his group muttered in agreement.
"I'm starving!" The albino girl screamed. Myka looked over the ridge and watched the carnage unfold. The tufted hair man, moved effortlessly through the sand like he was floating. A long scythe appeared from nowhere and in an instant blood was pouring from one of the recruit's necks. Without hesitation, he moved on to his next victim, but before his blade could do any more damage a massive gust of wind knocked him back.
"Careful ya'll. Get ta close and he'll blow hot air at cha," he laughed. Until a flurry of sand assaulted his eyes. He stumbled and staggered as Dorian took out a small blade, but his movements were sloppy and slow from fear. The training was one thing. This was— before Dorian could form another thought someone from his periphery came roaring over, and a blade nicked his left shoulder.
The albino girl wielded a kusarigama, she swung the blade around again and again but the blade continuously fell short of its mark as Dorian barely evaded each attack. Granted her attacks were simple, easy to read, and evade. What frightened him was her cool and calm demeanor. This gruesome traveler's face was relaxed, emotionless. Her focus didn't let up for a second. This would quickly turn into a stamina contest, one he was fairly certain he could win— Until a piercing sharp burning overwhelmed his wrist. Dorian's hand was completely gone.
The man with the scythe gargled laughter. They trained us to be strong, and athletic. They never trained us to fight monsters. A man with duel samurai swords sprung onto Bryn. The man sought death, each swing was aimed to kill. With every step he took sand would wrap around his ankle, slowing his movements ever so slightly. Bryn commanded the sand around him, it whirled and solidified, forming a sort of prison — and just as the walls were closing in. A whip wrapped tightly around her neck. Bryn clawed and pulled at it but her circulation was quickly cut off. Within seconds she was unconscious on the ground before them. Who are they? Dorian thought as he examined the blood pouring from the stump of his arm, mixing seamlessly with the sand. His vision blurred as he watched them get picked off one by one. It was a slaughter. They'd just been gifted. Destined to protect The Structure. Chosen to defend their people. Almanon had failed them. Lied to them. The parched desert drank every last drop of their blood. Hosanna fought bravely. Sparks emitted from her fingertips, shocking the man with samurai swords. He coughed blood and collapsed down to one knee. His skin sizzled from electrical burns.
Before Hosanna could make another move an arrow pierced her trachea. As Dorian watched his comrades perish he couldn't help but feel a twinge of hatred for The Structure and everyone in it. We were supposed to protect them, but they had failed to prepare us. Soon their incompetency will be the end of us all. The corners of his vision began to blur and everyone seemed to slow down drastically. Not stop completely, like they were weighing through molasses. The very light was being stolen from around them.
There was a blur of someone, someone Dorian recognized. Darkness washed over them all, even the sun had been eclipsed. I'm losing consciousness. Ah. A sort of peace washed over him. I'm drifting away. That was the last thought Dorian had before he slumped to the ground, completely blacking out.