Carnival of Devils (Ch 7 – Part 1)

The crowd’s shouts grew louder, calling for Vermon to discipline his rebellious slave and entertain them by giving him various kinds of torture after they witnessed his strange and reprehensible conduct with their own eyes.

Vermon suddenly pulled the chain attached to Orb’s collar with only one hand, forcing him to stumble and drop on both knees in the middle of the blood-stained arena. It was unbearably painful for Orb to appear subdued before Vermon.

Though Orb felt nervous about being the highlight of the event, he did not accept being attacked without proper retaliation; his vengeful nature did not let him turn the other cheek toward the assailant.

Suddenly, Orb swooped in a savage rage with his whole body on Vermon, who stood before him and threw him to the ground. Then, he quickly pounced on Vermon’s chest and placed his bound hands over his face, forcing it to one side while his teeth bit the upper part of Vermon’s arm.

The sudden attack of Orb shocked Vermon and left him in severe pain as Orb’s fangs penetrated the flesh of his arm without the slightest hesitation. Moreover, Vermon was extremely embarrassed in front of the jeering crowd, who immediately denounced what had just happened.

In the meantime, Barloschios was laughing, amused, and amazed at what he saw. He was thankful for attending the carnival and pressuring Vermon to present his exceptional slave earlier than planned.

Vermon shoved Orb aside and sprang to his feet, yanking the chain with furious strength and dragging Orb across the ground. He was tremendously angry that he forgot to wipe the dirt from his face.

With even greater force, he tugged the chain, sending Orb hurtling across the arena, where he collided with one of its low walls on the far side.

The crowd grew excited when the arena echoed Orb’s cry of pain. Vermon pulled the chain once more, yanking it toward him with equal ferocity, causing Orb to rocket through the air before crashing to the ground.

Turning deaf ears to Orb’s grunts and groans of pain, Vermon seized him by his lapels and hoisted him into the air, striking repeatedly and viciously his emaciated face with his large hand. The vicious assault continued until a thin trickle of blood escaped Orb’s mouth, and tears of agony welled in his eyes.

Upon seeing that, Vermon paused. “WON'T YOU SHOW REMORSE FOR ASSAULTING YOUR MASTER?” Vermon furiously shouted.

“I —won’t!” Orb panted.

“YOU BASTARD!”

Vermon hurled Orb to the ground once more before pulling the chain with force for the third time. The spectators watched as Orb was thrust high into the air, only to crash at the feet of a group of them, who began savagely kicking and striking him from all directions. Unable to breathe or utter a sound, Orb shielded his jaw from the vicious kicks with his bound hands. Still recovering from the intense shock of colliding with the wall, enduring his master’s slaps, and the assault of the crowd, Orb’s body was abruptly jerked upward into the air for the fourth time.

Orb was hurled to the middle of the arena again and collided with the cruel ground with a sharp gasp of pain escaping his lips as if torn from the depths of his being. A second passed, and he began to grunt and moan uncontrollably as each inch of his battered body hurt him.

“KNEEL!”

Vermon shouted as the collar around Orb’s neck tightened, not wanting to give Orb one chance to catch his breath.

Now suffocating, Orb grabbed the chain in a desperate attempt to free his neck, but Vermon was not in the least concerned.

“I SAID KNEEL!” Vermon commanded. “I WON'T REPEAT MYSELF, YOU BLIND FOOL!” he warned.

Orb kicked the air with his bound feet, refusing viciously to submit and kneel and, at the same time, wishing that this torment would soon be over.

His face turned blue when he managed to grab the middle of Vermon’s chain and pull it with all his strength to stop him from moving and dragging him around the arena.

Vermon responded in a fleeting sympathy to his attempt. “How do you feel?” He stood before Orb, smiling coldly.

Holding the chain, Orb was on his knees while his hands were trembling in pain and shock. With tears in his eyes, Orb coughed severely, and that was followed by sudden vomiting that made the crowd laugh joyfully.

Vermon felt disgusted at first, but then, pitied his slave and decided to end this farce his way.

At that moment, Orb found his hands and feet gathered under his chest as if a hidden magnet was forcing them to do so. No matter how hard he tried to resist and spread his limbs back, they would stick together under his chest until everyone witnessed Orb kneeling in submission before Vermon, his neck heavy under the collar’s weight, unable to move.

He did it again! He controlled my body just like that; Orb felt frustrated as he recalled the time Vermon paralyzed his body in the fountain square.

Vermon, who forced him to kneel, using his Uthusian energy in an ostentatious display of grandeur and power, succeeded in humiliating and breaking Orb. Alas, the tears in Orb’s eyes were finally released, wetting the ground beneath him. His breathing was high-pitched, louder than the spectators shouting in excitement and support for Vermon’s victory over his slave’s disobedience.

Then, Orb’s limbs were finally freed, and he fell to the ground, struggling to catch his breath while his face slowly regained color. He covered his face with his bound hands, which shivered considerably out of fatigue, pain, and defeat.

His thoughts were overwhelmingly racing, scattered, and colored with sadness, anger, and fear inside his aching head.

He made me kneel! I’ll kill him … son of the devil! I …  I want to go home…What home...Vermon, what if... why am I thinking like this? I am tired…Will this torment end?

Those dispersed, unconnected thoughts were interrupted as Orb was startled by Vermon deliberately dragging his ground-stretching body behind him again by the chain across the arena. It seemed that Vermon had no plans to stop and continued dragging Orb for some time.

“Vermon …” was all Orb managed to say—barely.

Vermon suddenly stopped after hearing Orb’s faint voice calling his name. He quickly turned and returned to stand before Orb, who was not looking at him.

Vermon got down on one knee and, without hesitation, released the chain around Orb’s neck with his eyes examining Orb’s wet and grimy face.

“Have you learned your lesson, slave? Let me never witness your defiance again! Such is what awaits you!” he stated in earnest.

“Vermon, son of Uthus, the Glorious Knight of the Empire.”

Someone interrupted the two at that moment; Vermon turned and saw Ayege, son of Syrphadous, standing behind him. The young man spoke with an air of haughtiness, “I, Ayege, son of Syrphadous, wish to fight your slave.”

* * *

Vermon stood up straight, facing his and Orb’s first enemy, the enemy who beat Orb on his first day in the Empire because the latter attempted to sip some water from a public fountain, which Ayege claimed at the time was private property, only to assault his poor slave.

Vermon frowned as he examined Ayege’s exceptional height and long black hair, which he tied above his head and enclosed with a small silver crown to brag and show off his father’s position as the emperor’s supreme minister and private advisor.

However, Vermon would not allow him and others to do as they please with him and his slaves, so he stood arms akimbo. “Since when did nobles have any interest in fighting others’ slaves?”

Ayege crossed his strong arms. “I thought you brought your slave to be disciplined in public and taught humility in the presence of his masters,” he sounded mocking.

“I believe I have told you before that it is my responsibility,” Vermon scowled.

“But what I suggested is just a new game,” Ayege replied maliciously.

“It is new but not amusing. I have a reservation about masters fighting my slaves.”

“Did you not promise to amuse us, Vermon? What? Did you back off? Do you think I’m not good enough to fight your slave? Ah! Could it be you feel sorry for him?” mocked Ayege.

“Come on, Vermon! Let them fight!”

“Come on, don’t waste time!”

“Long live son of Syrphadous!”

The excited and thrilled crowd shouted more demands and applauded in unison, wanting to see Ayege fighting Orb.

Vermon did not think much about the possibility that Ayege may resort to some trick while fighting Orb. But he was furious about the silence of the carnival’s attendants in the face of his interruption and the crowd’s excitement.

Indeed, everyone disregarded Orb’s condition as the physical suffering inflicted on his body from the first round was still afresh and severe. They also disregarded Vermon’s wish, the guest of honor, who felt pressured and personally insulted.

However, he could not back off at that moment. It was his first time participating in the Carnival, and his image and reputation were on the line. So, while his heart pounded in extreme vexation, he finally gave in to their demands.

“So be it! Ayege, son of Syrphadous, will fight Orb, the eleventh slave of Vermon, son of Uthus,” he exclaimed.

Vermon knelt again before Orb, and while unbinding his feet and hands, Orb tried to fix his blurred gaze upon Vermon’s serious features.

He was angry at Vermon’s mistreatment, loathing what he had done to him but also pleading silently to disregard everyone’s wish and get him out of that place.

“Aren’t you done torturing me, Vermon?” Orb sneered.

“I did not choose this round,” Vermon feigned indifference.

Orb’s lungs were saturated with the stench of blood, sweat, vomit, and dust, but after inhaling Vermon’s aromatic scent, he felt refreshed, although a little sore.

Then Vermon grasped Orb’s arm to help him stand, and when Orb regained his balance, Vermon bent over to whisper in his ear, “This is your enemy who assaulted you at the fountain square in the Capital. This game has no rules. Fight with all your might.”

* * *