Sharon gripped the black wooden bars in front of her and screamed. "You damn beasts. The Empire will not let you get away with this. The Emperor's fury will scorch you from this earth, and the pits of hell will be your home."
Her heart thundered in her chest as she took a deep breath. She watched with wide eyes and shaking legs as Gilbert—a man she met a few hours ago was tied to a long stake and hauled onto the blazing fire at the centre of the camp.
These monsters were cannibals, and they would eat her soon. They had started with the fatter people, the men and women, with more meat on their bones. The green skin seemed to enjoy watching the skin melt off their bones as globules of fat dripped into the fire.
Sharon twitched at every movement as the fire roared and the long-eared green skins cheered. They were sick, demented creatures that the Emperor would surely burn to ashes once he learnt of them. "You will all die, all of you sick and dark things."
The goblins standing a few feet away from her didn't bat an eye and continued to throw longing gazes at the fire now and then. They were the guards—not that they did much of that. Her father would have probably called them lazy, but creatures like this couldn't be lazy; they were animals.
Sharon's chipped nails dug into the black wood as she prepared for another shout. Her voice was horse now, but she couldn't stop—she wouldn't stop. A Braxian youth scout would never surrender to the enemy.
"Rest your voice, lass," croaked an old voice beside her. "Hope is not lost."
"I know it isn't," Sharon said, blowing a strand of ginger hair out of the way. "As long as my heart beats for the Empire, there will always be hope."
The grampa gave a dry chuckle and shook his head. His grey eyes held wisdom, no doubt forged in beautiful service to the Empire. "A spirited one, aren't you? But that's not what I mean," he said, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard.
"Bron, here," the grampa gestured to a spot in the air. "Has allowed me to get into contact with people who claim they can help us."
Sharon scowled. The fools in the chat log—rats, all of them. She tried to talk to them, hoping to find fellow Braxians, but it had proved fruitless. Freedom was what people, like 8464, claimed to have gained—there was no talk of finding the Emperor or reuniting the Braxian people.
"You found scum amongst them that wished to help?" Sharon asked, eyeing the grandpa. "Are they fellow Braxians?"
"Does that matter?" The grandpa scratched his head, his fingers combing through his short salt and pepper hair as he reclined in his black cage. "They are coming, and your shouting could hamper any plan they have. So I say again. Rest your voice, lass."
Sharon narrowed her eyes at the man before huffing and collapsing on the floor.
What could she do but wait? The cage wouldn't budge, and her paltry attempt at rebellion had achieved nothing. The green skins had paid her no mind as they took her fellow prisoners and devoured them. Whatever this help was, she hoped it came fast.
"I hope you are right, gramps."
"Me too."
The minutes ground by as Sharon's heart continued to race. The man on the fire was nothing more than a slab of meat and bone, which the green skins ripped pieces off with enthusiasm. Many of the smaller ones rubbed their fat bellies with bliss written all over their face. She would be next.
Sharon frantically looked around. There were three prisoners left, including her. She wasn't the biggest, but that didn't mean much, as she doubted the goblins would notice or care about the little weight difference between the prisoners.
An icy feeling began to flow through her as a realisation set in.
At least the Emperor's light will guide me to the hall of the ancients, she thought, closing her eyes.
A green skin's garbled cry jolted her, and her eyes snapped open. Something was happening. A group of four goblins split off from the group in the fire pit, rushing into the forest. One of the two green skins standing in front of her cage took a hesitant step towards the camp, but a swift slap from its companion knocked that idea away. The two then grumbled at each other but stayed put.
"It's started," said the gramps from next to her. "I would say, be prepared. I don't know what these people will do, but it wouldn't hurt to be ready."
Sharon nodded and kept her eyes on the fire in the middle of the camp. She didn't want to end up on that fire.
A few minutes later, another green skin cry sounded, and four more ugly creatures raced into the darkening forest. The goblin in front of Sharon—the one who slapped the other one—nodded to its friend as it rubbed sleep from its eyes. Its friend, cheering, raced towards the roaring fire to join the last two green skins whose bellies were bulging.
The goblin that remained then glanced at her and shook its head. It then left, walking past the cages and into the forest.
"What the heck was that about?" Sharon asked, looking at the grandpa.
The man shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know. But it's good for us." The man stood up in his cage, looking for something."
"What's up?" Sharon asked.
Gramps shook his head and raised a finger to his lips before pointing to a white figure. The creature slinked through the shadows of the wooden tents, using the darkness as cover as it closed in on the goblins near the fire.
"What is that?" Sharron hissed.
---
Grendal frowned at the screen as he navigated Husky on the map. He couldn't afford to mess up now, not when he was close to clearing the camp. "Be careful, you two. If the Husks get destroyed, we will be screwed."
He glanced over his shoulder at Tia and her sister as the two women focused intensely on the screens before them. Grendal had given them control of the two husks tasked with luring the goblins towards the base. He was not a machine—controlling all three goblins would prove far too challenging when they needed to do different tasks.
"I know. Just focus on doing what you need to do," Tia said, keeping her attention on the screen. "Crap."
"What?" Grendal snapped.
"One of the goblins is lagging behind the group. Don't worry, I've got this."
Grendal focused back on his map, shaking his head. Whatever happened on their end could be dealt with later. Right now. He needed to end the last three goblins sitting around the fire, munching on the remaining bits of a poor man's body.
Okay, Husky, it's you and me—don't let me down.
It was best to go for the goblin starting to stuff its face with the man's grilled foot. It, unlike the other two bloated goblins, was not immobilised with bulging stomachs, making them much easier targets.
But it was still as vulnerable. Grendal had Husky use a wooden tent's jagged structure as cover as it crept up behind the goblin. When it was close enough, Husky bolted forward, its golden claw spading the goblin's back. The claw sunk deep into the goblin's flesh, and it screamed as Husk gripped its spine and twisted.
Husky ripped its hand free as the goblin collapsed onto the floor—a twitching mess with wide eyes and human meat hanging from its mouth.
One down, two to go, Grendal thought as he directed Husky into the shadow of another tent. The Husk slinked around the back as the two bloated goblins staggered to their feet and fiercely waddled towards the body of the dying goblin.
They grunted, kicking the body before looking around for Husky. The two were oblivious as the Husk moved from the side of a tent and approached them from behind. Its steps were quiet as it moved across the dirt.
"Now," Grendal hissed, and Husky shot forward, slamming into the back of the goblin.
The goblin screeched as Husky's claw sunk deep into its neck. The claws then ripped back, tearing chunks of flesh from the creature's throat as Husky jumped off the goblin.
The second goblin bellowed and charged forward but, in its haste, tripped over the goblin with the twisted spine. It came crashing down before Husky, who promptly sunk its claw into the creature's forehead.
Thank the Emperor, that went better than expected, Grendal thought. He collapsed back into his chair, letting out a deep sigh.
"The camp is clear. But the boss of these guys is probably in one of these tents." Grendel said, glancing back at the two women. They were still focusing on their screens—Lucy more than Tia. Kiting goblins through the woods appeared more taxing than he'd assumed. It was a good call to give them that role.
"Now, I need to get those guys out of the cage," Grendal muttered and had Husky slink over to the far side of the goblin camp. His legs shook as he moved it over—they were at the proverbial finish line.