2k words
***
When her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she found her suspicions correct. Cave walls of rock and soil boxed in her surroundings, except for one side, where a barrier of wooden planks surrounding the outline of a door. It was a cell, and the wrong side of one.
When she had the strength for it, she stumbled her way across the room, but on her fourth step her paw came down on something soft and hairy and she squeaked in alarm. Hobbling back, she looked down to see something blocking her path. No, not something, but someone.
The Skaven was at once large yet small, its torso reaching her hip even as it laid down on its side, curled up into a rotund shape. Streaks of white clashed against its brown fur, Skyseeker spotting a pair of pink ears protruding from a head tucked beneath a stubby arm.
“O-Out of Skaven’s way, rat,” she coughed, barely containing a whimper. Every syllable made her jaw ache.
There was no reaction. She stepped round its body, peering closer at its face, finding that it was awake, yet had eyes only for the stones beneath its nose. It was scraping two pebbles together, filling the cell with that annoying grating noise she’d woken to, its eyes filled with dull curiosity, as though its stupid rocks were worth examination.
Skyseeker would have heckled it under different circumstances, but she was wounded, without arms or armour, and she didn’t need the attention. She made to walk away, but something about the rat made her look back over her shoulder. There was something strange about the rat, the shape of its face, it all seemed… familiar, but she couldn’t place what.
There was more than one of them. Eight or nine more were scattered about the cell, some humming tunes beneath their raspy breath, some kneeling against the walls, yet not a word or chitter passed between them. They didn’t even give Skyseeker a cursory glance as she approached the door, as though she were invisible to them.
She leaned up against the door, and Skyseeker was more surprised than anyone when it creaked open, a crack of torchlight spilling in through the sliver. One of the rats behind her hissed like a snake as the light stretched over its contorted face, holding up a paw to shield itself. It was the most animated she’d seen of these other rats so far.
“Y-You’re free, rat-things,” Skyseeker said, gesturing into the room beyond. “This way, follow Skyseeker. Prison riot!”
The one she’d stepped on rolled away and released a fart, while someone else coughed. Well then, let no rat say she didn’t at least give them an offer to glory.
Beyond the cell was another room built from earth and rock, with wooden platforms and support struts helping to give it the look of a chamber. A pile of sheets sat in one corner, a huge throne and a workbench in another, a burning chandelier hanging above both. The Clan Mors banner draped form the east and west walls, so still without breeze they almost looked painted on.
This was no prison cell, yet the only way out was the door at the far side of the chamber. No traps or tricks hindered her on her way, but the peace was anything but soothing. She was almost glad to see that this door was locked, even though the latch worked form this side. Where was she? If this was a prison, it was rather easy to move around.
Steps lead down past this threshold, giving way to a berth of yet more stretches of packed dirt and earth. There were torches scattered about, their green flames forming circles of light around their posts, and sitting within their influence were dozens of cages, metal bars forming boxes around tiny spaces, most of which were occupied.
As she threaded between the cages, one of their occupants caught her attention, his blond fur shimmering in what little light reached between the bars. He was faced away from her, and wore nothing but a loincloth, but she recognised the shape of his ears, his build…
“Kretch?” she whispered, placing one paw on the bars. “Psst! Kretch! It’s me-me!”
His neck twisted, and his red, beady eyes looked her up in down in no small but of disdain.
“Skybreeder? What-What you doing here?”
“It’s seeker, stupid. Skyseeker, and I’m captured, you lump.”
“You’re…” The ratman dropped his eyes to her chest, then to the gap between her legs. “You’re... a breeder.”
“Stop looking at my snatch, or I’ll rip yours off,” she snarled, Kretch reeling as though she’d struck him.
“You are being a foolish fool, breeder. This is nap-time, slaves aren’t allowed to scurry about at nap-time. The rats who break rules, they always get caught.”
“Don’t care about nap,” she said, taking a moment to get her bearings. Not because she was injured, but because she really had said those words in that combination. Being beaten really changed a rat. “Care about escapade. Which way is out?”
“You in ratpit, seeker, there is no out, not unless the Snout says so, and he never says so. Ratpit only for his most worthless slaves, and his favourites…” he added, a terrified expression crossing his features.
There was perhaps twenty other Skaven in other cages, and likely another twenty on the far half of the vault. A small slavepit, all things considered. “Tell me more about this pit,” she said. “What things do you know.”
“Lots-Lots! Kretch tossed one or two pawfuls of slaves into pits, was part-time slave master when not searching surface for you. Now Kretch and breeder both in ratpit, and you are to fault-blame!”
“Is pit in Ironsnout’s camp?” she pressed. When Kretch didn’t answer, she snapped her fingers at him. “Hey! Eyes up here, perv face!”
Kreth lifted his gaze from her chest. “Wha-? Oh, ratpit, yes-yes, is near camp, but not too near. No-No. Ironsnout not want too many clanrats near pit, for obvious reasonings.”
They had not yet made their way back to Skavenblight, then, that would mean the relic had not been yet found. She had to avoid being taken unawares again, because next time she woke, bloody and beaten, it might well be within Skavenblight’s tunnels, and if that happened, she’d never see Roderick or her friends again.
“Point Skaven in exit’s direction, Kretch,” she ordered. “This prison is stupid, and I’m getting out of it.”
“Ha!” Kretch scoffed. “If you think you can leave pit, you’re dumber then Kretch, and Kretch can’t even say his own name without speaking in the third person.”
“Better to be dumb than a fear-musk squirting craven,” she shot back. “You do whatever you want, Kretch, I’m leaving.”
“You not understand,” Kretch whispered. “The exit, it is blocked, no rat can dig or chew its way out. Only one rat gets in here, and that’s-”
He was interrupted by the echoing clang of metal-on-metal. Both she and Kretch turned to look down the far end of the chamber, where a thin rectangle of light had suddenly appeared from above. The echo exemplified the silence as it died out, followed by a loud creak of a pair of old hinges. The sliver expanded as two doors previously unseen parted, imbedded up a short ramp that capped the far end of the room of cages.
Most of the sunlight was blocked before a giant hulking mass, a pair of arms the size of her entire body pushing aside the metal gate. The white glare that backdropped the figure was white and harsh, but Skyseeker felt a pit of terror grip her all the same. Ther was only one Skaven she knew to be that big.
Two smaller, but no less imposing Skaven slunk past the warlord, carrying the dreaded halberds that gave them away as stormvermin, the most elite of Skaven warriors. Ironsnout followed them down the incline, each impact of his steps ringing out in a shrieking echo, each like the toll of a screaming bell.
“You are awake, how interesting,” Ironsnout’s voice boomed across the chamber. The skaven in the other cages began to fret, squashing themselves into the ground, as though not wanting to be seen by their master. Despite the darkness and the distance, he was talking directly at her, his metal face pointing her way. “Most Skaven wouldn’t recover from the shock of my suit. Bring the breeder to me.”
The two stormvermin fell into a hard run, moving deceptively quick despite their heavy armour. Skyseeker stumbled back, but the sudden exertion through up a flash of pain, and she fell on her rump,t he dirt kicking up after her as she scrambled to her knees.
She didn’t know where she was going, or if there even was a place to go, but she sprinted her hardest anyway, threading around a pair of cages towards the left hand side. She thought she could spy a passage down that way, and no matter where it led, it was better than being anywhere close to Ironsnout.
She was just too slow, however, and the stormvermin too quick, a hairy paw seizing her neck from behind. She was turned and brought to her knees, the Skaven pulling her back the way she’d run.
SKyseeker thrashed, but he wouldn’t let go, so she twisted her neck and clamped her jaws down on his wrist as hard as she could, feeling a wetness seep through the pireced skin. The stormvermin snarled out and let go, but before she could scramble free, the second ratman struck her with a violent backhand, and her world went fuzzy as she fell onto her side.
Someone jabbed her in the ribs with the blunt end of his halberd, knocking the wind out of her. A foot kicked into her back, but the beating was cut short by a raised, synthetic voice.
“Enough,” Ironsnout rumbled. “The breeder is mine to damage, not yours.”
One of them kicked her for good measure, and then she was hauled to her feet by the armpits. She would have continued to struggle if the warlord had not made his way through the cages towards her, his giant warsuit standing not two feet before her, the glowing lenses on his helmet scrutinising her from what seemed like miles above.
She lurched away as the warlord reached forward one gasping metal paw, the stomrvermin tightening their hold on her. She let slip an embarrassing gasp as he clutched her by the head, memories of those electric shocks burning her from the inside flashing through her mind. Yet he didn’t power on his suit, and there was no whip of static discharge.
“Leave us,” the warlord commanded, never taking his metal eyes off her. The stormvermin did as he bade, silently slinking off into the darkness behind them. “You are a quick little breeder,” he said once they were alone. “Trying to flee back to your man-thing friends, trying to flee your cage.”
“I have no cage,” Skyseeker said, doing her best sound as defiant as possible. “Skaven is a free rat, didn’t Lord Gnawdwell tell you that?”
“Our Lord sees a thousand different future-visions, and you are ‘free’ in none of them. You never were, and I will teach you why.”
He yanked her to her feet, his suit so powerful she had no choice but to follow him as he took off. Even dragging her feet wouldn’t slow him down, and it only caused her pain when the rocks dug into her ankles.
He was taking her back up the steps, not to the exit, but back to the cell she’d woken to. The door into the antechamber was big enough to let him pass through unobstructed, the roof tall enough to accept his massive height. How had she not noticed how oversized this chamber was? This must be Ironsnout’s quarters, or one of them at least.
He let go of her with a toss, discarding her in the direction of the mess of sheets. He loomed over her, Skyseeker backing away from him as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Our Lord was right,” Ironsnout breathed, his head dipping as he examined her naked torso. “You are a comely thing – for a traitor. You will do nice-well with the others in the pack.”
“Pack?” she echoed. “What you blabbering about?”
“You didn’t recognise them?” he asked, taking a bounding step towards her. He nodded his head vaguely to the right. “How they grovelled, how they submitted with their musk? That is how breeders should be. You’ll be like them, soon-soon.”
She took a step away, glancing in the way he’d indicated, towards the cell with those other Skaven, who scratched rocks and feared the light. Those rats, were they… breeders too?
A wave of understanding washed over her, mixed with horror and disgust. She was all too aware of how the warlord was looking at her, even with his sterile visor. His eyes were like fingers, crawling all over her, goosebumps prickling her flesh as the scent of male-musk began to thicken the air, its source obvious enough.
“I-I’ll never be your breeder,” she stammered, the Skaven mirroring her steps with his own. “And I mean that literally. Ironsnout probably has iron-dick too, and I’m not into that-that.”
“I am meat and bone beneath this suit, breeder,” Ironsnout hissed. “Sweet supple flesh, like yours.”
She backed into the wall, not knowing how she manged to hit the corner, but there she was, with Ironsnout’s hulk blocking all else. One of his giant paws reached for her, and she tried to turn away, but the other one took her shoulder and thrust her against the wall. The first paw came down on her chest, Skyseeker gasping as the cold metal smothered her breast. His fingers were almost perfect replica’s of a Skaven’s digit, able to flex and curl, and when they squeezed over her nipple they dug into her with a cruel strength.
She drew meekly away as Ironsnout pressed his face closer to hers, his hot breath whistling through the grill fixed to his muzzle. “Your defiance is over, breeder, our Lord wants you back to his tower. Alive, dead, or between, that is the only freedom you have, breeder. You make sure and please me while I get back that relic you stole, and maybe you’ll go back to Skavenblight with your tongue and fingers intact.”
Skyseeker could not breathe, not with Ironsnout’s vile stench so close. He tightened his grip on her breast harder until she could take no more. She struck at his arm, the metal ringing like a gong. The effort was mute, and it hurt her more than it did him, but she struck him again and again, every thought in her mind screaming to be freed from him.
“So much energy,” Ironsnout mused, rasping a laugh as he watched her struggle against his powerful grip. “If you’d put that energy towards the Clan, we would have met in Our Lords chambers as equals. But you though you could outwit him, and now you’re my pet and nothing else. Now stay still.”
He took hold of her and slammed her back, her head and shoulders compressing against the wall in a violent thrash. She was turned around, Ironsnout knocking her legs apart with his hand so they splayed, his glove holding her to the wall by her head.
His hand found her tail, and he gave it a cruel yank, a moan escaping her lips. Tears welled in her eyes as he gripped its base, unable to supress a swelling of breeder-musk as he pulled it again. She was reminded of when Roderick had pulled her tail during their intimate moments, and even though arousal was the last thing on her mind, her body was betraying her.
“Your eyes do not leave that wall,” Ironsnout hissed. “Keep them there, and maybe you will present yourself to our Lord intact.”
His hand found her rump and began to curl between her thighs. Skyseeker groped the wall, her paws coming down on soft rocks veined with little plant roots that crumbled at her touch.
She muttered something under her breath, just enough to be heard but not understood. Ironsnout paused his groping, his suit creaking as he leaned forward. “What did you say, breeder?”
She mumbled once more, and she could feel the warlord drawing closer. “Are you finally going to submit?” he asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
His visor was right beside her neck, and she turned to meet him in a stare, trying to imagine his beady eye behind that frame. “I said… never!”
Before Ironsnout knew what was happening, her fist came down from above, and clutched in her pink fingers was a rock. She turned so that the sharp end angled just the right way, the sound of cracking glass filling the room as her attack landed.