emile fischer

Xaash: Marked for Life

​

“Louder, idiot! »

A whiplash ripped through the air and landed on the young child's sweaty back. A piece of cloth, black with grease, dust and various fungus, slipped from the hands of the little creature who was screaming, holding on as hard as she could. The savrip leather vine slid down a small river of blood that ran up and down the scorched back. With a sharp movement, Rylthe Althe drew the long rope behind him and lowered his shining eyes and his hideous orange face towards his slave.

"If in two minutes you don't remove this stain, you will lose your left hand!" And without her, you won't serve me much longer... Did I make myself understood!? »

The little girl was pale. It was his first day of work with this monster... after the little week of isolation he had offered him: a week where he had simply forgotten him in a dungeon just after having obtained it. She had stood there in the dark, once again trapped in a cage, chasing away the ghosts of her past and thumping her stomach to make her forget about hunger. If it weren't for that water leak on the wall, she wouldn't have survived. But what had she done to him? Why this hatred towards such a small thing, whose emerald eyes only begged for pity? Was it because of his skin color? Pureblooded Sith were known to hate the "lesser races" of the Empire...that is, all races but their own. Perhaps it was because of his ridiculous size, and that in him as in the whole Empire the law of the jungle applied? Or was he punishing her for her weakness, because she hadn't been strong enough to save her own family? At this thought, she let out a first tear.

" Look me in the eyes ! »

She turned, her eyes wide, twinkling, and full of a salty fluid that was no stranger to pureblood, and peered into the fiery irises in front of her. No... there was no reason inside this evil being. He hurt her and he liked it.

And so the 6-year-old child spent several weeks scraping, sanding, washing, or tidying up the Althe home. The only one present was Rylthe, the father. The mother had long since died under the wrath of his fists, and the son had left for Korriban thanks to the repetitive and completely illegal arrangements of the father. The little girl put everything she had in it. She wasn't a slave, but she figured these horrors were part of her training...after all, it was sweet Zash who had brought him here. “You call that clean!? "Did I offer you the chance to rest!?" "Don't look me in the eye!" "Come here, human female dog!" "Get to work, slave!" "Stay away, filthy creature!" "You're going to taste my whip!" ... those were the pureblood's favorite words. Every day he repeated them, and every day she suffered. But she suffered knowing - or, believing - that it would make her stronger.

One evening, while she was cleaning the dungeon, which he simply called "your room", a tiny lizard appeared at the window. The stone-cut window was no bigger than a head, but the lizard was the size of a thumb. Curious, the girl let him come down to her. The two little creatures had everything in common. Their size compared to the other predators of Dromund Kaas, their innocence, and their loneliness. The human and the reptile just wanted to get to know each other. Well, one was more shy than the other, but the two beings ended up approaching...

And it was when the lizard froze and then got crushed in the air, letting the shadow of pure blood appear on the bloodstained wall, that this beautiful moment was shattered.

"We're playing with parasites now...?" »

A long silence followed, and the child finally said:

" ...Why... ? »

The sith's eyes widened and let out their devastating fire.

" Why !? You dare ask me why!? »

Althe flared up and gritted his teeth, though deep down he was glad his slave was finally rebelling. Finally he could unleash hell on this child of misfortune... for real this time. He put a hand behind his back, as he usually did to grip his leather whip, but pulled out a completely different tool of torture.

A barbed wire whip.

And this time, he wouldn't aim for the back.