The Spider Doors.
By Weefatfella
- 1648 reads
Gnarled and twisted oaks cast shadowy grasping fingers over a heavily armed pack of trolls, as they trudged either side of a roughhewn cart.
The long narrow wagon, pulled by a skelatal mule, lurched noisily over the uneven scree littered ground.
Every bump rattled Leathig’s chains. His head lifting and falling hard onto the rough planks of the cart floor, forced long painful groans from his bleeding mouth.
Sharp blades of sunlight, slipped between the ill-fitting slats, and painfully stabbed at his swollen eyes. His bruised frame rolled and bucked with every turn of the creaking wheels.
His staff was forced down the middle of his back. The long wooden shaft had been pushed into the chains and screwed like a tourniquet. Both ends of the chains were twisted tightly around his waist. The links had settled in between his ribs, every breath forced them painfully deeper.
Long angry slashes from the troll captain’s whip covered his back and sides. Dark, crusting scars weeped fresh blood and pus, which ran from his body into the dry planks of the cart, draining him of life and hope.
The mule brayed and stopped at the bottom of a small hill. The air thickened and held an obnoxious and musky odour. The trees, leafless, and twisted, looked tortured and in pain. A yellow, greenish mist oozed from small puddles of thick slime, which popped now and again as the gas forced its way through. To the right, a narrow pathway led uphill between granite boulders. Green matter covering the rocks, oozed slowly to the barren ground, like a weeping boil. Torrell raised his voice.
“Right, we’re here. Leave the cart. The spawners will take that inside. They’ll find a use for the wagon, and we may meet the mule again if the fuckers don’t eat it.”
He looked around, before lifting his arm and crooking two clawed fingers at a tall, thin and bent troll wearing rusted and ill-fitting armour. The lethal looking double-bladed battle-axe the thin troll was carrying fitted his huge fist perfectly however, and he looked comfortable with it. He nodded as he made his way over.
Torell leaned into the cart, grabbing leathig's ankles, he roughly dragged him out. As Leathig’s head cleared the floor of the wagon. His flaccid body struck the ground hard. The priest moaned loudly as the pain surged through him.
The troll captain leaned over him and slapped him hard on the side of the head. Leathig's eyes opened, he stared unseeing into his tormentors face as tears rolled down his cheekbones and into his beard.
“Ha, Priest you’re awake. Good... Hazall! Help me carry this reeking pile of shit into Diabhal, it’s that, or I’ll drag his sorry carcase down the two hundred steps using this pole."
As he spoke, he kicked the end of Leathig's staff with his thick skinned barefoot. The priest's eyes rolled, and he moaned loudly.
“Where am I?"
Red frothing spittle escaped from his lips.
"I don't think you’ll make it into the master's dungeons alive human. That might not be a bad thing for you, though."
Torrell lifted his eyes away from Leathig and called again.
"Hazall,"
“I'm here, dull your horns Torrell, I'm coming. Why is it down to us? Any of these runts could carry him.”
“He has to go to Asmodene."
As he mentioned the demon's name, fear filled his yellow eyes. He dropped his chin to his chest and slowly looked around as if he expected his master suddenly to appear.
“Only officers are allowed inside his quarter. Stop asking stupid questions and grab the other end of this fucking pole. It’s bad enough having to live in Diabhal, but entering through the stinking arsehole of the place is as low as it fucking gets.”
Hazall swung the axe into its sheath on his back, and with the troll captain, he hoisted the pole carrying Leathig's emaciated and naked body onto his shoulders.
The priest moaned again as his wrists took his weight and his head fell back between his shoulder blades. A long thin line of blood stained mucus slowly drained from his mouth and stretched to the dirt. The trolls uncaring of Leathig's condition carried him along the narrow foul smelling pathway. The stink worsened the further along they went. The pools of sludge grew larger. The muck covered the ground, and the fog thickened.
The narrow pathway snaked in between the stinking boulders and led them to the mouth of a large cave. The entrance to which was sealed with two exquisitely worked and strong looking oak doors.
A carving of a huge spider stabbing a human female in the stomach with its stinger filled both doors.
The trolls stopped. One leant on the wood and ran his claw along the inside of the carving. He lifted the point of the claw to his mouth and sucked on it. Another sniffed and wiped his pointed nose on his sleeve, while the rest stood, watching.
Torrell, annoyed, looked around him. In a low, rumbling, and menacing voice he droned.
“One of you shitbags better bang on those doors soon, or I'll slice one of you from horn to heel, and we'll all have you for supper tonight."
He stared into their eyes in turn before he shouted.
"That means fucking now!"
Three of the nearest trolls pounded on the door, one with his fist, the other two with the handles of their scimitars. The right-hand door began slowly to open inwards.
Hazall, coughed as he yelled,
"Fucking hell, I can’t take much more of this reek. Push that door all the way. All of you push now! This stink is drawing my teeth out through my arse. Come On, hurry."
The door swung open. The sunshine pierced through the darkness and seared into the eyes of a huge caged, black spider. The spider screamed and shook violently. Leather cords were wrapped around the head and body of the huge insect, securing it tightly to the floor of a rusted, round, ribbed cage.
The cage swung as the spider jerked and strained against its bonds as it desperately tried to free itself. A deep bellowing roar filled the cave.
“Close that door, before these spiders break loose and kill us all."
Cages holding huge spiders, hung from every part of the ceiling. As the daylight streamed into the cave, the insect’s emitted high pitched screams as the light burned their sensitive eyes.
The cages swirled from side to side and banged into each other. One creature lifted its rear and fired a line of webbing which attached itself to the far wall. The spider pulled itself and the cage along the thread.
The huge troll lifted his halberd and sliced the thread. The arachnid screeched again and fired another thread at the offending troll. The line stuck to the troll's leg. He fell; the spider reeled in the line.
The huge troll strained against the web. His clawed feet unable to grip the hard slippery cave surface, scraped along the floor towards the angry spider.
Hazall lowered Leathig and dashed towards the cage. He drew his battleaxe and swung at the gossamer line. His weapon bounced off the steel-like thread and slipped from his hands.
The spider, taking advantage, shot another length at Hazall. He lifted his arm in defence; the thread struck his arm, bounced off, and wrapped itself around his head. The insect drew in the line.
A cave troll drew a flaming torch from one of the many ensconced on the wall. He ran quickly to the cage of the spider and held it below the cage. The insect jerked and let out a shrill yell before cutting the line.
The cave trolls had shut the door during the mayhem and the torches on the walls were the only illumination. The spiders settled back in their cages; the excitement was over.
Torrell’s pack were standing just inside the doors, looking confused and afraid.
The captain lifted Hazall's axe and walked towards him. He offered the handle to his friend and pulled him to his feet.
"That was a near thing there my old friend. That's one bastard of a spider is it not?"
As he said this, Torrell drew his whip from the hook on his hip and pointed at the offending insect. He uncoiled the cord and lashed the cage. The spider screamed again as the sharp slate embedded in the leather cords of the whip bit deep into the insect's back, green slime seeped from the wound.
“That she is Torrell, I expected the spawners here to be able to handle their cluster, that bitch nearly had the two of us.”
Hazall pointed to the big troll sitting on the floor cutting webbing from his arm. He stood and walked towards them. He was half again as tall as Hazall. They warily watched him approach.
“Put that whip away. If you lash any of my creatures again, I'll strip you naked and feed you to them myself."
Torrell measured the troll. His massive head was topped by a single horn which grew from just above his forehead. The sharp toothlike bone was at least eight inches round at the base and curved outwards to a point sixteen inches from his bald head.
His black eyes were shaded by a thick and hairy monobrow. A wide flat nose sat above an even wider mouth. Pointed teeth either side mimicked the horn on his head as they curled up six inches from his thick scowling lips. He held his long halberd ready in both hands. The flames from the torches on the wall ran along the sharp round blade and dripped off like blood..
Torrell cracked his whip towards the spider’s cage. The troll stepped backwards as he swung his halberd in a low, wide arc. The blade bit deep into Torrell’s abdomen. Rolls of yellow sausage-like intestines mixed with steam and green blood flopped out of the slit and slithered, onto the cave floor. The troll captain fell to his knees, his head made a dull slurping sound as it landed among his entrails, He groaned and exhaled sharply. His body shook once and was still.
The huge troll, keeping his momentum, rolled towards Hazall. The thin troll drew his battleaxe and struck where he thought the bigger troll would be. A dull ringing sounded as the half-moon blade struck the rock floor. The Big troll landed underneath Hazall as he had intended. He released a loud victorious roar and utilising the huge muscles in his legs and back, he tossed his head like the Rhino he had been spawned from.
His sharp horn entered Hazall’s groin and came out in the center of his back. The troll continued to rise. Hazall’s arms shot out from his side. His head arched back and a spray of green blood shot from his mouth and nose. His head fell. The useless battle-axe slipped from his dead hand and rattled bell-like on the stone floor.
The big troll, still roaring, shook his massive head and shoulders. He grabbed Hazall’s corpse and pushed it from his horn. With one hand he sent it spinning at the shaking troll party, who stood terrified at the doors.
Weefatfella© all rights reserved.
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“Right, we’re here. Leave the
“Right, we’re here. Leave the cart. The spawners will take that inside. They’ll find a use for the wagon, and we may meet the mule again if the fuckers don’t eat it.”
That's one great line!
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Good story, and very well
Good story, and very well written! Your attention to detail in this fantasy story was very skilful. Who would want to be a troll?
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