Chapter Five: The Punishment
A carriage of northern design rides into town.
It looks fancy yet not decadent, the huge driver wears a long purple cape and the nobleman inside proudly looks at the locals passing by.
“Speed it up driver, we are almost there”.
Davis had just come from the town of Wonaz mentioned in his book and his findings were astonishing.
The boy of his dreams had indeed lived there.
The locals were well familiar with the Nosferatus family and the boy that was stabbed in his dream.
All the sotries point towards the same direction, the boy lived.
The boy was even mentioned in local archives but never as a direct descendant of the Nosferatus.
However what was even more astonishing was that the locals did not only told that the boy lived, they claimed that Wladimir had lived through the initial public torture.
They claimed that he was never executed on that town square but taken by Fontanees soldiers.
The local story goes that they threw him in the deepest pit of Tokat, close to the Sordidus border.
Heavily wounded, he was left there to die a slow and horrible death in a dark deep hellish pit.
The little border town is quiet and the locals seem unimpressed of the presence of a noble carriage, unlike the previous town of Wonaz.
They stop at the first peasant they encounter.
“Greetings, my name is Davis, Son of Abbot, Sword Champion of Nivemus and i have come all the way down here in search of Wladimirs pit, you may lead me there now.”
The peasant seems to ignore the noblemen at first until he mentions Wladimirs pit.
His eyes widen, he appears to tremble in fear.
“Wlad... Wladimirs pit’s? That place’s is haunted good Sir, haunted i tells you! We better stay away from it’s.”
Davis frowns annoyingly, he is too proud to be afraid of some silly local scary story.
“There is no such thing as ghosts you stupid peasant, now tell me where to find the place!”
He gestures his driver to grab the peasant, and in a quick movement the driver drags the peasant by his neck and through the mud until Davis gestures to stop again.
It is a comical sight; a giant playing with a skinny dwarf, the drivers hand fully encloses the peasants entire neck.
“Have mercy m’lord! I was only warning you’s! I will lead you to the trail up the hill, there you’s will find the pit’s! follow’s me!”
The carriage rides on with the skinny peasant walking in front, until they reached a small trail leading up the hill.
“I cannot take you’s any further then here’s Good Sir! Please have mercies, let me go!”
Davis nodds the peasant to go and grumbles as he steps out of the carriage to continue on foot.
The peasant had been mumbling for the entire road about the evil spirits that must haunt this place.
He is actually happy to get rid of the peasant.
The climb is tiring, the landscape arid and dry, only a bush grows here and there.
When he finally reaches the top he finds himself on some sort of empty plane plateau.
“Is this the place there making such a fuss about?”
Davis holds both his hands on his hips, standing proudly, laughing at the peasant that warned him for this place.
At the sign of his master laughing, the Driver joins, until Davis impatiently gestures him to walk ahead.
He scans the area for some time until he wildly gestures his master to come.
He runs towards the driver and a black hole unfolds in front of his eyes.
A pit so deep, no one could ever see the bottom.
Davis franticly tries to find the bottom, looking from various angles.
He eventually lights a torch in order to look deeper into the pit, but no bottom becomes visible.
He slips for a moment but luckily restores his balance again.
The edge is crumbling, several stones roll into the dark hole.
Seconds pass until finally he hears the echo of the rocks hitting the bottom.
It is oddly followed by a strange sound, a moan of some sort.
Davis looks at his drivers, who clearly hears it too.
“Anybody there?”
No reply.
Davis gestures his driver to fetch a robe from there backpack and remains staring at the pit.
He hears it again.
It sounds like someone in agonizing pain, a moan of suffering.
“Cursed you!”
a man’s tired moaning voice screams.
Davis eyes widen.
Did i just hear that or is my imagination playing tricks on me?
“Leave this place or know thyself, this place is cursed!”
Davis halts, where the locals right, is he speaking to a ghost?
“Who are you? or what are you?”
The voice sounds fatigued, as if even the slightest sigh would take all of his energy.
“Wladimir, and leave before you end up just like me!”
“It is a ghost!”
All the little hairs on his body now stand straight up as he replies trembling.
“But... they killed you! that is impossible!”
The pit replies with a deep moan and the pain cuts deep into the nobleman's heart.
Before he could reply an unfamiliar voice behind him calls his name.
“Aaaah , Champion Davis, what a surprise, that i have found you here”
In a single move Davis fully turns around.
A noblemen, about his age stands in front of him in good clothing rubbing his right hand over the hilt of his sword. He does not recognize him.
“Who are you and what business do you have here?!”
The man grins and walks a few steps towards Davis.
He completely ignores Davis questions.
“Champion of Nivemus aye? greatest sword fighter of the North?”
The man laughs.
Davis quickly looks at his driver, already with his sword drawn, also surprised by the nobleman's sudden appearance.
From his right eye corner Davis looks at the men, his hand firmly gripped on his sword.
“I have no time for games Sir.”
The man stops.
“Ha! games! he says! and that calls himself a sword champion?!”
The unfamiliar man is clearly trying to provoke Davis temper, not very difficult as many already know.
“I wouldn't try to provoke me Sir.”
The man starts to laugh loudly, ridiculing Davis by imitating his reactions.
“Are we a little scared, little sword champion?”
“This is your last warning! or I’ll...”
The man quickly interrupts Davis, now raising his voice even louder.
“Or what?! You’r going to cry? you gonna cry now?!”
Davis can no longer control his temper, his hands are trembling with fury as he unsheathes his sword.
“I have had it with your childish behavior stranger! I will not let my noble name be insulted by some idiot like you! Meet the end of my sword, and sudden death!”
The man keeps his arms in his side now, laughing absurdly hard.
Davis runs forward in an attempt to overrun his opponent with a swift blow.
The sound of iron hitting stone shatters across the plateau, followed by that distinct laugh again.
“Ha! that calls himself a sword champion? your much too slow for me you fool!”
Davis frustration grows as he tries another attack.
But blow after blow ends in the hard rocks on the ground.
I can’t believe my eyes... I never faced an opponent this fast, and he hadn't even drawn his sword yet!
“Who are you?!”
He asks while pausing.
The question is answered by a rumbling laughter and a quick blow from the left.
Davis barely manages to dodge the attack let alone see it coming.
“You proud fool, you can’t even deal a single blow!”
Davis concentrates deeply and carefully executes the next attack.
Two blows from left and right followed by a slash from above and then a stabb.
This time the man doesn’t manage to dodge the attack and Davis sword goes straight through him.
The sword however meets no resistance and Davis loses his balance, he miss steps and falls straightforward.
“NO!!”
His driver witnesses him falling straight through the man, into the dark pit.
And the laughter of the man grows and grows.
“A Ghost!”
Completely terrified the driver runs off without even bothering the equipment and supplies.
As soon as Davis recovers himself he sees the vague image of a man and now clearly hears him moaning just next to him.
“Ow you fool!”
The man breaths heavily.
“Why didnt you listen! Your foolish pride cursed you!”
Davis his eyes have now adjusted to the light and he looks at the man a little closer.
He notes a leathery skin over weak, crooked bones and two large anxious eyes staring at him from there soulless depths.
The skeleton now speaks again.
“They have put me here years ago when they discovered my secret, none of the torture killed me, nor did i starve in their dungeons, my Family is cursed young man!”
He breaths in heavily while talking.
"How is that possible?"
Davis aks him carefully, still shocked by the sight of the man.
The man sighs deeply.
"My father cursed his family for eternity after sacrificing his youngest daughter to the evil spirits. He used Black Magic to prevent the death of the most beautiful rose in the land, which he once grew. I starve and suffer yet it doesn't kill me. I have been suffering her for decades young man..."
A mad weak sinister laughter echoes around the pit as Davis slowly starts to realize what this meant.
The scar on Abbots chest what should have been a mortal wound appears in front of his eyes again.
This man is Wladimir, Abbots father and thus his grand father and the exact same horrible faith now awaits him.
I have to get out of here...
Frantically he tries to climb the walls of the pit but every time he gets up, the lose rocks that make up the wall of the pit crumble and Davis falls back down again.
After trying to climb the wall for the millionth time he gives up and lets his body fall down in a wobbly jelly, defeated.
He screams on the top of his lungs for mercy which echo around the arid plateau for an eternity.
