"Damn you!" he screamed at them. "Damn you all!"
Kicking and cursing, they dragged the accused off towards the waiting off-road vehicle. The citizens of Lansdown knew well what to expect, and though they were against violence for the most part, they knew when justice had to be done. And they further knew that the consequences would not be so lenient as last time. The second day in a row someone had been caught thieving food from the stores, the marshal had snapped.
"Don't you realize what we're up against? Do you have a single thought in your head for anyone but yourself? For anything but your own damn stomach?" the marshal was even more incensed than he otherwise would have been, due to a number of reasons. First of all, the fact that it had happened exactly like this, merely
a day
prior. This man had
witnessed
the other man being shot in front of the town, with his own two eyes. Secondly, the morale of the town had been at a record high after having defeated the demons of the night with no casualties, and the marshal had given a speech only the night before that they needed to stick together in order to be victorious; that every man, woman and child would have to bear their own weight, and shoulder their share of the consequences of low provisions. And the marshal was upset that he'd been undermined. Third, and most egregious, was that this man was a known sluggard, a lazy and spiteful man of few redeeming qualities. He had been caught fooling around with the marshal's daughter before on more than one occasion, and whether or not this attention was returned, everyone knew what this would mean when it came to his sentencing. After all, the marshal was only a man. But he was a man put in charge of other men, and that kind of man must do what that kind of man must do. And this is exactly what he did.
Dragging his feet on the ground, spitting at his captors, the man was hauled into the dusty square, and bodily heaved into the back of a waiting mid-size sport vehicle, which had been outfitted with heavy armor, an engine like a tank, and large off-road tires. The wheels spun and gravel flew, as the vehicle peeled out of the square and headed for the outskirts of the town, to the old tourist center which was now used as a place of purgatory for those found unfit to live amongst the rest of the citizens.
When they arrived, the vehicle ground to a stop, and the perpetrator was dragged out of the rear of the truck. And oh, how he screamed. He pleaded, he begged, alternately cursing and bargaining with those who emotionlessly bore him towards his certain doom. But they bore him silently, grudgingly, unhesitatingly, to the roof of the building. And there they chained him down.
As they drove away, they heard his screams in the distance, for hundreds, no, thousands of meters. In the eerie still of the outskirts of Lansdown, in the wasteland that was once suburban civilization, sounds carried quite well through the still air of the rugged pass. And the sounds they heard were anything but pleasant.
What they didn't know, however, was that a pack of ravenous timberwolves had found and surrounded him. They growled, eyes glowing, and circled him menacingly, snapping at his extremities as he attempted to fend them off with yelling and sudden movements. He found himself facing off against one or two at a time, and though he didn't realize it at the time, they were following a procedure they had used hundreds of times before. Just like a crippled moose, he wasn't going anywhere. And given enough time, patience, and teamwork, they could wear him out to the point that he could no longer defend his own life.
This point did not come as quickly as it did for other trapped or wounded prey. The man fought tooth and nail, and every time one came close enough to sink its teeth into his calf as he yelled at one which had been nipping at his shoulder, he cried out in pain and lashed out at the new threat. It did not take him long to figure out their strategy, but he'd be damned if he'd go down without a fight.
But after half an hour of intense physical and emotional strain, the man began to give out. He lay tired, bleeding, and beaten. And the wolves around him had exerted comparatively little physical effort, barely any at all, in fact, except to harass him until he had no more strength or fight left in him. The man was in shock, dazed as he watched a tall black wolf tear into his thigh with vigor... and he could do nothing to stop it. He could do nothing but watch himself be eaten alive. It was a truly horrifying sight to behold.
Mercifully, after the man stopped fighting entirely, it wasn't long before one of the wolves ripped into his throat, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he bled out quickly thereafter. By the time any other creature arrived to take the spoils, there was nothing left but scraps.
BBmolla,
