De Blodkrigere | Teen Ink

De Blodkrigere

April 12, 2021
By lynks15 BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
lynks15 BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Logan’s heartbeat thundered through his head. He came to his senses quickly as he realized someone was forcing open his eyelids. The fingers held them in place for a while before he could open them on his own. His tongue felt around his mouth, and he realized there were several missing teeth, and something metallic and salty- blood. This jolted him back to reality, and he blinked the fingers away. 

In front of Logan stood four figures in dark cloaks. He couldn’t get a feel of whether they were happy or not to see him- but suddenly one of them, the one who had just removed its hand from his eyes, stepped forward. Logan didn’t feel threatened, just confused as it picked him up. He was a 22 year old, 6’2, 200 pound man, yet he was lifted effortlessly. 

He felt the person turn to the others and speak quietly. Although he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, he realized its voice was high and femenine. The woman holding him began to move forward at a slow, steady, pace, which rocked Logan back to sleep. 

Once again, Logan awoke. He was in a dimly lit room, and the first thing that hit him was the smell. He couldn’t quite place it, but it lingered,  making him uneasy. However, the uneasiness quickly disappeared when someone shuffled into the room. Turning his head to get a better view, he realized that it was an older woman, perhaps in her 60s. She reminded him of his mother as she placed her hand on his forehead and smiled lovingly down at him. 

“Wh-where am I?” he mumbled. She let the question sit in the air, perhaps thinking about how to best answer it. 

“You can call this place the town of Mann-spiser.” she answered soothingly, with a surprisingly strong European accent. She looked American, maybe even from Texas like his own mother, which threw Logan off a bit. Mann-spiser. What a strange word. Well, strange names were common in… in… where was he traveling again? 

He turned to the woman, her features seeming less American as he came back to consciousness even more. 

“Wh-who are you?” 

“You can call me Mary. Mother Mary, if you wish.” She tittered at this reference, and Logan politely smiled. He realized that more of his teeth were missing, which was probably why he was finding it difficult to speak. His concern, however, was once again washed away as she lovingly straightened out the bed sheets, which seemed to be made of a material he’d never quite felt before. It was soft, but rough at the same time. He shifted in bed to get a better feel of it, and Mary seemed to take this as a sign that he wanted to get up. 

Pulling over a wheelchair from the corner, she promptly placed her arms underneath him and lifted him easily into the chair. He could see she had a bit of muscle, but her warm maroon sweater seemed to diminish them to the point where you could only see them if you looked closely. 

“So, uh, where are we going?” Logan asked as Mary pushed the chair with ease towards the door. 

“On a bit of a tour, dear. Just to get out of this stuffy room.” They exited the room into a large hallway, passing by many rooms. Although he was being pushed quite fast, he passed one particular doorway where the stench really hit him. It was an intensified version of the one in his room, and at this moment he was quite glad she was pushing him so fast. He recoiled at the scent, and after she pushed him through a set of large doors at the end of the hallway, they immediately slowed down. 

Emerging into a large dome, he gaped at the various detailed statues around the area. They were huge. His awe was uninterrupted as a woman rushed past them, holding a bucket over her head effortlessly. 

“Let me tell you the story of our ancestors.” Mary said, touching him on the shoulder lightly to regain his attention. She wheeled Logan over to the first statue, a proud female warrior. The statue was made of a pearly white material, which he had never seen before. Mann-Spiser sure knew how to find the most unique materials. He looked up at the statue, and he suddenly felt something drop onto the back of his tongue. He spit it out quietly into a cupped hand, and realized it was one of his molars. It was white, very white, and he hid it in his fist as Mary began to talk. 

“Our ancestors, de bloodkrigere, were the strongest in the land. They were undefeated, powerful, female and male warriors.” She droned on and on about the lands they’d conquered, but Logan was thinking about his tooth. 

“...the females realized what they had to do.” 

“Sorry, what?” She tightened her grip on the wheelchair. 

“The men of our ancestors were drunks. They raped, abused, and overpowered the women. Then, they blamed overpopulation on u- the women.” Logan clutched his tooth tighter. He didn’t care about their history- same old, same old. 

“So, the females of de blodkrigere realized what they had to do.” Mary wheeled him over to the last statue, a gory war image of a scene involving stabbing and who knows what else. 

“They took down, one by one, every man of de blodkrigere. They used their remains to grow stronger. While other civilizations developed nasty machines and metals, de blodkrigere developed a new source of energy- better and more divine than any other- the men.” Logan began to feel uneasy. Mary pushed the wheelchair once again, but there were no more statues left. They weren’t going back through the doors, no, she rounded a corner. 

Logan found himself looking out upon hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people. He looked up at Mary as she smoothly braked the wheelchair and stood beside him. 

“What’s this?” This time, she did not answer. They were all waiting for something, murmuring in the crowd. He felt another tooth fall to his tongue. Putting the canine next to his molar in his hand, he admired the whiteness. Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over him as Logan realized what the statues were made of. His mouth got dry and palms clammy as he thought about the bedsheets- he looked up at Mary, who smiled down at him- she didn’t look very motherly anymore. 

“Who are you really?” he asked as he looked out across the crowd. With horror, he realized he could not find one man among them. The women raised their arms in the air clapping rhythmically. More teeth began to fall into his mouth with each clap. Mary knelt in front of him. 

“My dear, we are de blodkrigere.”


The author's comments:

TRIGGER WARNING: mild gore, implied cannibalism

 

This short story was written very late at night, inspired by my nightmares. 

Most of my fears are about the human body itself, for example teeth, gums, etc. I tried to channel that into the story to show other people the fear I felt. 

Enjoy!


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