Lakeisha: Kept in the Dark

The corner lights up with a faint golden glow, flickering before it dies away with a soft grunt. Again... the glow is too weak to be seen further down the tunnel which had been hacked into the mountain side, leaving most of the crawl ways and passages left in an eerie darkness or in the dim light of stumpy candles. The shuffling of stone debris can be heard as something moves there where the glowing came from, once more faded and gone.
Another grunt as she hits the uneven floor, her legs coiled under her while her hooves scrape across the stone. The ropes which hold her ankles and wrists cut into her pale skin with the squirming attempts to try and get free. Out off this pit, back home. She wishes to return. The worry is driving her to the edge of despair, having her be irrational and desperate.


It happened so quick... Gunshots. Smoke. Flashing of fangs and claws. Darkness.
The sighs she awoke to was all but reassuring and neither was the smell; molten candlewax, damp earth and the faint scent of sweat, mold and feces. The broken whiskers and foul vermin-like faces with the dark beady eyes had her gasp in fright when she saw them peering at her from the dark. She did not know exactly what they were at first until she could hear screeching voices echo down the tunnels system as a much larger creature made his way towards her. In the glow of the candles which some of the disgusting creatures carried upon their heads, she recognized the canine features of what belongs to a Worgen, coming closer with lumbering steps. Her heart skipped a beat in hope it would be him, a savior to save her from the creatures which looked at her with curiosity until they cowered at the sight of the large Worgen as he stretched up to his full height when he had reached the end of the long tunnel.
His eyes glowed a sharp green, his fur unkept and tangled down his neck and back, his fangs long while hatred burned in those eyes she did not recognize. It wasn't him... he wasn't her savior. Instead, he was her captor and keeper.
He had kidnapped her as revenge for the loss of his family. Her lover, her commander was the culprit, the murderer... or so the mangy Worgen claimed. She did not believe him, knowing the one she loves wouldn't do such a sinful thing, thought she felt pity for him. His hatred had consumed him... He was blind for the truth and had dragged her into his madness in the hope he could use her as the main tool for his revenge.

With her captor came the vermins; Kobolds. Some were rather eager to examine her, a new species to this world, while others only hoped she wouldn't huff out the flame of their candle or actually take it. How often they had shrieked in her face to not take their candle while her hands were bound...
The much smaller creatures served the Worgen, probably more out of fear than anything else. She had to witness him slaughter them if they looked at her the wrong way, said the wrong thing or he felt the need to prove a point to her. The dark blood which stained the hacked up floor had her scream into the gag which prevented her from expressing herself with words. She watched with watery eyes as the other Kobolds were ordered to drag the lifeless body of their slain companion away. To where, she didn't know...

She remained stubborn and defiant, yet deep inside she wept.
The Worgen, though hungry for vengeance, seemed to hold a certain care for her unborn child and a burning lust for her. His dagger had bitten the cloth of her top, his claws had raked the soft skin of her shaped chest, his tongue has tasted her. Blue blood had flown by his anger and stained her white hair and skin.
She refused to eat, drink or rest, even when he tried to force her. Her fangs had sunken away in his furred flesh when he tried to force feed her, her hooves had met the leather of his armor when he tried to have her drink. She did not believe in the care he tried to show her. He was so set on seeing her lover dead, yet he cared for his enemy's offspring which had begun growing within her. He wished to have that which belonged to his nemesis.


How much longer?

She hasn't caught a glimpse of daylight since she woke up in this place. She has no idea how much time has passed since she was torn away from her crew and mate, yet all this time she has been hoping and waiting. How she longs to see them again... the fear for not returning to her loved ones has been weighing her down.
When not picturing the face of her lover, his hand caressing her bruised face and his lips soothing her, she would be staring at her stomach to try and envision their child. Will it be a boy or a girl? Will it be healthy? Will it grow up with both its parents?
So many questions and so many wonders accompanied by the dark thoughts of death and pain. The sweet distraction of wishes and loving memories do not last against the peril she had been dragged into. The Worgen which keeps her as a prisoner hasn't shown his face today, though she has heard him shouting and yelling further down the tunnel she lays in. He is up to something... he had grown more and more wary every time he would come to her.

She lifts her head slightly as she can hear the scurrying of claws across the stones, the orange glow which remained at the end of the tunnel for hours now moving and coming closer with swaying motions. Little flames dance in the darkness towards the Draenei which remains bound upon the floor, her bright glowing eyes rising as the lumbering form of her canine captor steps into the orange glow of the candles his escorts carried along. She easily picks up on the sensation of triumph which hangs around him, seeing the smug expression he has upon his muzzle as she glares up to him.
“Time to pay the piper.”
With a large claw, she is grabbed by the rusty collar he had clasped around her neck when he had taken her away from the ship, the piece of enchanted metal preventing her from using the Holy Light. A device she had been struggling against during her captivity and times alone in the dark, a losing battle which had exhausted her.
Pulled up like a rag doll, her captor carries her out off the darkness he had kept her in for days, the Kobolds following after like a long trail of living candles which illuminate the whole cavern system they pass through. The glimmering of copper veins can be seen within the carved walls and the depths of the ravines, sparkling in the warm glow of the passing candles which continue to follow the Worgen till a more brighter glow begins to seep into the tunnels; daylight.
Is this it...?
Is it finally over?
Silhouettes appear against the light of the outside world and the vermin march hesitates while their Worgen master moves on with determination, carrying his trump card against his shoulder out off the mines.
Where will he take her...?
What will happen when he sets his plan in motion?
So many questions and wonders, but only time will tell.

A nice peer behind the veil of what went on there, I like the exposition . That mutt got what he had coming to him in the end (spoilers). Seriously, what's with the Kobolds and their candles?

"How often they had shrieked in her face to not take their candle while her hands were bound..."

Made me smirk.

The evil of a worgen made of madness in a mine with a Captain of the navy well.......anything could happen..