An Account From Petty Thief Bartuol

It was well into the night when I awoke, only the dim light from torch embers lit the hallways, barely enough to see through my meal hole. Slop really, not even an ogre could call it a meal. Hoots and hollers from down the hall echoed, easily two dozen or more cells down and around the back bend of the dungeon. Whatever the ruckus was I’d soon find out, it seemed joyous, celebrative. I crumpled up into my corner, when their this happy it’s usually at someone’s expense, their head, the stretcher, the clubbing wheel, or the pear - or if the doctor was itching he’d gather some fresh pieces for his collection.

This night though it was something far different, as torch light drew near chortles of, “We finally got you.”, “There’s no swimming away from here.”, “That was your last demonstration.”, and “The reign of torture and terror is over.” could be heard while a deep, churning grumble breached through all their words. I clambered to my slop hole, putting an ear to the ground, 16 feet surrounding a pair of feet chained together with one one chain going up to a pair of hands and one chain back to an odd “Y” shaped appendage on this new inmates shadow.

They stopped at my door. One stern knock is all they give you, I hurriedly thrust myself against a wall, my own fetter clinking across some of the stone outcrops of the floor. The door swings open, a group of guttural grunts deafen for a moment and a shark lands square in my cell and the door shuts.

 

This is the strangest of punishments. I don’t deserve this. It far exceeds my crime. A shark. I’m just a petty thief.

It writhes about the floor, squirming toward me.

I swiftly move aside.

A shark! Did they get the right cell. Me. A shark. It’s hungry. It wouldn’t be trying so hard. They starved it. Dodge you fool. A shark!

It lungs again. It misses, all that’s left is ember glow, it must be used to the torches.

I trip. Shit, shit shit. I lunges at my legs. I lift them towards its snout. It bites, jaws clenched on my manacles.

Kick! Why won’t you kick.

My arms they’re pulling me back. The shark is twisting, turning over.

Fight the roll. FIGHT IT!

A hand grasps, crushing my leg.

“Would you calm down! Where the hell am I?”

Kick it, kick-kick it!

“Fucking stop it!”

Fight it, run, kil-.

“Who?” I frantically question while my panic takes a pause for shock.

“Fuck, kicking me. You better watch yourself. Do you even know who I am?”

Panic gives up, shock shakes hands with insanity and I’d be ghost white if there was light, “A shark?”

“You must be dunce. Well Dunce you half-right. Just call me Slammu and you worry about the morning. Let me know if your chains hold. I’m going to catch shut eye.”

 

My morning was a bit rough. I thought it was all a dream, woke up my fetters were split in two with a coupe links still dangles from my ankles. Bite marks clean through. A shark with a pair of legs and a pair of arms that could rival any blacksmiths. I didn’t know how to wake a shark, it seemed awake, eyes open on either side of its eyestalks, tail moving back and forth. I soon found that awake meant mouth slightly agape with a thick, dark gray tongue coursing over each and every countless tooth while it slowly sways its head back and forth.

Sweat beaded on my brow, my palms were so damp I could even grasp a rock for defense.

“I’m starved.” slowly crashed through each tooth as a stormy wave breaking, with each break I twitched.

It inched forward on hands and knees, a waterfall of saliva trailing from the corners of it’s mouth leaving a trail  behind it like a snail on a conquest. Two dishes come clanking through the slop hole and it pounces on them before they can come to a halt. The bowls and the slop gone.

Tripping over each syllable, “that was our only food for the day.” I tremble

“Not mine, I got a whole person here if I need it.”

“So what was your last demonstration?” Trying to change the subject to something less, I’m-about-to-get-eaten-esk.

It’s mouth shuts and for all intents and purposes there was what could be considered a grin.

 

“It was grand. These fellows had hired me to teach this fellow and his troupe a lesson. They weren’t paying up, and their whole act was about being up. Up in this tent, up on this rope, up on each others shoulders, up on some poles, everything was up.” Pausing the wipe it’s cheek free of spittle.

“So I found him, had to get through a couple of protections.” A few swift biting motions are made to the left and right.

“But I found him, walked in carrying two left hands arm and all, just started slapping him with’em. Then he woke up, started screaming. Ripped a couple fingers off my spare arms and shoved’em in his throat.” Taking its one hand into a fist forcing its other fingers into the clenched fingers of the fist.

“He just whistled a little then, just the boring part not. Do some sittings. Watch him look around a bit, his eyes did some fluttering. He jumped up once to run I think, but I just smacked him with my other spare arm and started messing up his hair. Had to sit on him then so he wouldn’t try anything.” It grabs me and starts rubbing my hair awkwardly, licking my ear.

“Too salty, you gotta calm down Dunce. I won’t eat you unless I need to.”

“It’s nice when they turn blue, just like the deeper rivers, not as cold though that take times. Once he blue I start getting his arms off, then his feet off.” Some horrifying biting motions are made with rending and flesh tearing simulation.

“Just forced ‘em arms up the feet holes,left the feet there and brought him out to those poles they stands on. Propped up against that put a tooth in his belly hole. Was a simple demonstration, but they only paid a few dozen gold.” It rips one of its teeth out and throws it at me.

“Tried to get away like usual, with the river. But I think his screams got me caught, there were people running all around and sorts. So here I am, Big Slammu.”

That’s how I met Big Slammu. Only spent three days in that cell before they took Slammu way. They seemed a bit leery of taking him, not sure they had liked what was planned for Big Slammu. Any way, another round for the table. And can someone take that damned poster down, he’s not wanted anymore, besides doesn’t look anything like Slammu, too pointy of a snout.