"Ugh,"
I groaned as I woke up, only to find myself lying on the ground, a disgusting stench assaulting my senses.
I snapped my eyes open and quickly surveyed my surroundings, realizing I was in some sort of cave. More specifically, I was in a cramped cage where I could barely sit.
The only light came from small cracks in the cave's ceiling, through which faint sunlight filtered in.
And I wasn't alone. Surrounding me were other cages, some containing people. Most were tanned and emaciated, dressed in little more than rags. Some of them resembled the Indigenous people featured in those 3 AM videos, where they build underground pools using only sticks.
"Where the fuck am I?" I muttered to myself.
"From what I can remember, I was in the kitchen preparing food. Then this pain hit me in my back. I can still faintly feel it..."
I turned my gaze to the man in the cage next to me. He didn't look as foreign as the others, and the well-defined muscles on his body indicated he hadn't been here long.
Hoping for answers, I asked aloud, "Uhm, hello?"
He appeared unconscious at first, but when he heard my voice, he turned around. His deep, manly voice began to echo through the cave.
"Un taloma nug lackala mugtshoo," he said.
"Bless you," I thought after hearing him speak, what sounded to me like complete gibberish.
But this only further strengthened my theory that I wasn't in my home country. I came to this conclusion when I had to take off my hoodie because of the heat. It made me realize that the climate was fundamentally different from that of my home country.
More importantly, it was winter back home, meaning that for it to be this hot, I had to be in a country near the equator. The high humidity only supported this claim.
After pondering for about ten minutes why I was here, I let out a long sigh. Most of my questions remained unanswered, but I could deduce a few things.
First, this must be a third-world country, as I found no clues to modern technology. Not even a trace of plastic, and the cages looked almost primitive—just some roots and twigs tied together. You could probably bite through them with enough time.
Second, I was treated differently from the others. I wasn't even tied up like the rest. Furthermore, hay was laid on the ground of my cage, and I was still wearing my clothes.
The third thing was more of a hypothesis than a conclusion: I might be suffering from amnesia. First, transporting me to another country while I was unconscious is almost impossible.
There's just too much risk and no reward. I mean, I neither had a lot of money nor was my family important or influential in any way. The idea of me flying here myself and losing some of my memory just made much more sense.
But this only brought up more questions. Why would I travel to a different country on such short notice? How could I afford a plane ticket? The fact that I was still wearing the same clothes meant it was impossible for me to have come here by other means.
The only thing that didn't make sense was how I had lost so much weight. My body felt noticeably lighter, and my skin also felt loose to the touch. I wouldn't go as far as to call myself overweight, but I was definitely on the sturdier side of men. At 1.9 meters (6'3"), it wasn't really noticeable. Now, my physique looked more like an average man's—slightly thin for my height.
Then there was the terrible stench, raping my nose every minute or so. It probably came from the lack of hygiene and proper toilets. It was just disgusting. So disgusting, in fact, that I almost cursed out loud—but when I heard footsteps entering the cave, I stopped.
Two men, looking strikingly similar to the one in the cage next to me, entered the area. They both wore pelts draped around their waists and shoulders. Around their wrists and necks, they had fancy-looking stones and teeth tied together with black-dyed vines.
The stones began to glow in the darkness of the cave, making them look even more elaborate.
What surprised me the most were the two spears they carried. They looked like tools from a caveman's era—just sticks with sharp stones affixed to them, held together by some kind of plant. It looked surreal. The sharp stone wasn't tied to the stick; it almost seemed like it had grown out of the wood itself, gripping the stone piece from behind.
What also stood out were the tattoos on their bodies. One had a serpent wrapped around his arm, while the other had lizards on his chest, peeking out from under his pelt. But what caught my eye the most was the attention to detail in these tattoos. They looked more like human canvases because of how intricate these tattoos were.
They moved deeper into the cave, stopping near a cage with a prisoner. The prisoner looked miserable; half of his body was covered in his own feces, and he was unquestionably the one in the worst condition. He looked like he was about to die—or more like he was already dead.
Then the guard with the serpent tattoo began to speak. His voice was aggressive and demanding, his eyes shining with the intention to kill. To my disappointment, it was the same old gibberish that my neighbor had spoken.
There was clear fear in the half-dead man's eyes. Although I couldn't understand his words, it was obvious to me that his response was some kind of insult. The angry expression on the guard's face only confirmed this.
The next thing the guard did scared the shit out of me. He raised his spear, and the serpent tattoo on his arm began to glow in vibrant purple. The tattoo started to move as if it were alive, slithering closer to his hand. As he poked the man directly in the chest, a shadow leapt from his hand, along the spear, and directly to the spot where he had been struck. The man coughed up the last bit of blood in his body, which was almost entirely just bones.
Taking out his spear, the guard's gaze shifted to the other prisoners.
My heart began to race, adrenaline flooding my veins. My breath quickened shortly after. My instincts sharpened. I tried to find some kind of weapon on the ground—a stone, a branch, anything to defend myself—but there was nothing. My gaze never left the bloodied spear. I could feel it: my body was screaming in fear. Death was imminent! I wanted to run, but my body was frozen in place.
When I saw the guard turn and leave, I remembered how I had been treated differently from the other prisoners, and I managed to calm myself. My breathing slowed, and I turned my attention to the half-dead man with a hole in his chest.
I wasn't the only one—everyone in the cages stared at him. To our surprise, he wasn't dead.
He still had shallow breathing. Around his wound, purple marks began to form. They looked like the roots of a tree, and wherever they spread, his skin turned purple. It didn't take long for me to think of it as poison. The marks continued to extend further and further. We all watched as the life slowly faded from his eyes.
When I saw the last bit of life in his eyes vanish, I gulped, struggling to process what had just happened.
But shortly after, I noticed a smile forming on my face. This scared me. I didn't know I had psychopathic tendencies. As I tried to understand why I acted like this, I felt the last bit of adrenaline leaving my body. This made me realize something.
This smile didn't come from seeing someone die right in front of me.
It was because of the adrenaline. The feeling of fighting for your life, your blood almost boiling, with your rationality and instincts battling for control.
"MESMERIZING!" I said out loud.
It's like a rollercoaster, but ten—no, 100—times better.
I couldn't help but think about how it would feel to experience this rush without the helplessness and fear I had in that moment.
Without me realizing, my smile grew, scaring the prisoners who were watching me.
Then, I thought about something else: the tattoo that had begun to glow, coming to life.
"That's magic!" I thought.
Will I be able to use it? How difficult is it to control? How often can it be used?
Questions like these filled my brain like a storm. I felt so excited just thinking about it.
If magic is real, then what else is real?
Once again, these questions went unanswered.
I came to a conclusion:
This is not Earth. My priority should be to survive at all costs.
I was determined.
I waited for my next opportunity to finally get out of here.
And I waited...
It was only 10 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Turns out, not having access to your phone or computer gets boring really fast.
This boredom felt like a sword in my heart. I had to do something about it. I started humming.
I couldn't care less about the others hearing me. To my surprise, they seemed to like the idea, though they hummed something completely different.
Then, I started braiding the straws of hay on the ground, completely out of boredom. It was something I used to do in school after my phone got taken away by the teacher. Of course, in school, I used other things instead of hay.
After about an hour, or half a meter of braided hay, I heard footsteps approaching the cave. This time, it was only one person. An enormous piece of pelt was wrapped around her, even covering her head like a hood.
She was carrying a lot of stuff, mostly fruits I had never seen before.
She began throwing them into the cages with the prisoners, but only the ones that were either smashed or rotten. When she was about halfway into the cave, she lowered her hood, revealing her face.
Two very big and fluffy fox ears came into view, accompanied by golden hair that almost seemed to glow in the darkness of the cave. Her silky smooth skin and innocent expression elevated her cuteness to another level.
When it was my neighbor's turn, she handed him some of the fruits that weren't rotten. As she did, she wore an angry look on her face, which, strangely, made her look even cuter.
When it was my turn, she smiled at me and handed me the fruits. I returned the smile, happily accepting them.
I couldn't help but stare at those cute ears, which seemed to reflect every emotion she felt.
I was sure of it now: this was a different world, and I kind of liked that fact.
Just as I was about to bite into one of the fruits, she noticed the braided straws of hay.
She said something, but you guessed it right—it was that damn gibberish again.
I mean, can't there be a person with a freaking Google Translate tattoo?
Realizing I didn't understand a single word she said, she pointed at the braid of hay, then at her hair.
"Sure," I said, nodding with a smile on my face. Seeing my gesture of approval, she excitedly sat down next to the cage, removing the pelt and using it as a cushion. This action revealed her entire body.
Her face, radiating an ethereal beauty, carried a scar that only seemed to enhance its charm..
Her two holy mounds, that my hands felt attracted to like two magnets. Her smooth skin, that appeared soft and flawless, free of any imperfections. Her long, slender legs and the hourglass contours of her waist were equally captivating.
Her body was just… stunning.
The wagging fox tail behind her further complemented her adorable look, making her seem like the very embodiment of cuteness.
She paid my stares no mind, only putting her hair over the struts of the cage.
This only increased my desire to hug her and pet those lovely fox ears.
Holding back my desires, I started braiding her hair, shamelessly glancing at her whole body. And again, she didn't mind at all. Surprisingly, she was doing the same to my hands and my face.
After five minutes of braiding her hair, I was hypnotized by her appearance. Nah, probably even before that. I noticed how she tried raising her hand but stopped mid-air. It wasn't until the second try that I realized she was trying to touch my hands but hesitated again. So, on the third try, before she could stop, I caught her hand, which made her shout out loud.
"Uaah???"
She looked at me with a puzzled expression, like a thief caught red-handed. I just smiled, placed her hand on mine, and continued braiding her hair.
I was still working on her first braid, which wasn't even 10 cm (about 4 inches) long, when I "accidentally" pulled half of it apart, starting almost from scratch. Meanwhile, after realizing she had my consent, she began caressing my hand with hers.
Her soft hand glided over mine, a sensation I enjoyed more than I expected.
After a few minutes, she became more daring, trying to reach for my face. I didn't mind, so I let her. As she did, she looked at my face, and I saw her expression. It seemed like she was almost drooling, with a slight flush on her cheeks. It surprised me a bit. I'd consider myself handsome, but not to the point of justifying such a reaction. Still, it didn't really matter, so I continued enjoying her caress, paying it no mind.
Another 10 minutes later, I finished her braid. I'd never braided a girl's hair before, so I ended it with a knot, hoping it would hold. It was far from perfect—uneven and messy—but her smile told me she liked it.
This was shortly followed by the grumbling of my stomach.
So, I picked up one of the fruits she handed me. It looked like a pineapple, but purple and spherical. Without thinking, I took a bite. Oh boy, how much I regretted that. She tried to stop me, but it was already too late. The taste that unfolded in my mouth was so sour, it made lemons seem mild in comparison.
I must've looked like I'd just sucked on a bottle of straight vinegar—face scrunched up, eyes wide, and my tongue desperately searching for a taste that wasn't assaulting it. This made her laugh wholeheartedly, a mocking expression on her face. Her cute laugh and the way she looked at me almost made me want to take another bite, but I decided against it, sparing myself further embarrassment.
She then showed me the right way to eat the fruit, even going so far as to feed me, something I found quite enjoyable. The fruit tasted like a mix of pineapple and watermelon—very interesting. But, as with all good moments, it came to an end when I heard a deep voice from outside the cave.
Realizing how long she'd been in the cave, she gave me the rest of the fruit and prepared to leave. She winked at me, a smile on her face, and as she made her way out, she began stroking the braid with a slight blush on her cheeks. It looked like she was protecting something precious.
After she had completely left, I was struck by the realization that I was still a prisoner, in a cage. Though with the way I was being treated, I wasn't sure if I really was one. Just as I was about to return to my anti-boredom activities, I noticed the stares I was receiving from my fellow prisoners.
I completely forgot about them. I think we both did.
Curious about their reactions to our little spectacle, I analyzed their expressions. Most of them showed visible confusion and fear. Lots of fear. But some, including my neighbor, had a hint of disgust in their eyes. What surprised me the most was that none of them seemed to feel any of the typical desires one might expect after seeing a girl like her.
"Are they eunuchs?" I asked myself. "This makes no sense."
My heart was still beating fast, burning with desires just from remembering her.
"I should've petted her head," I thought, a sense of regret settling in my chest.
Ignoring their stares, I found myself consumed by boredom yet again.
To my relief, it didn't take long for another woman to enter. She wore clothing similar to the guards, but instead of covering her shoulders, it covered her chest. From what I could tell, she was human. Her body was well-developed, and while she was beautiful, she couldn't compete with the fox girl. They were in completely different leagues.
She walked straight to my cage and sat down with her back facing me. Her hands constantly glided through her hair as if she were waiting for something.
Her attitude made me feel somewhat used, but since I had nothing else to do, I complied. After I finished braiding her hair, she left, and almost immediately, the next girl came in, requesting the same but in a more respectful manner. When I was done with hers, another arrived.
After the ninth or so girl, it was getting dark. A few things stood out to me. First, the other prisoners weren't eunuchs. They clearly looked at the other girls with lust. I didn't mind the fact that I had basically no competition for the fox girl, but it was still strange.
The second thing I noticed was that all the girls seemed to find my body attractive, always trying to glance at me whenever they could. Even the girl with the bad attitude was no exception. And when I took off my shirt because of the heat, they became more daring. I swear, if the cage wasn't there, some of them might have jumped at me—not that I'd have minded if they did.
Just when I thought there wouldn't be another girl, three figures entered the cave. It was the fox girl and the two guards. She and I exchanged smiles when we saw each other. They ignored all the other prisoners and walked straight to me. Then, they loosened the ties on my cage and opened it.
Seeing that I was likely about to leave the cave, I threw my t-shirt and hoodie over my shoulders. Just as I was about to stand up, the fox girl took my hand. Instead of gently helping me up, she _yeeted_ me out of the cage. I was surprised by her strength. It felt more like the power of a fully grown adult who hits the gym regularly, rather than that of a delicate girl.
I had to balance my landing to avoid falling to the ground. Standing next to her, I noticed she was taller than I had expected—just a head shorter than me, which is impressive for a girl. She then began tugging me out of the cave, her pace quickening.
My legs were still trembling, feeling like I had just disembarked from a long flight after hours of sitting.
As we reached the entrance of the cave, my eyes, still adjusted to the darkness, were blinded by the bright light of the dawn sun. But despite the discomfort, I couldn't help but widen my eyes at the beautiful scene unfolding outside the cave.
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