Into The Cell

Into The Cell

1.5k words, Professor Finch visits a giant imprisoned in a dungeon.

"You don't know what you're getting into." The guard said, sneering at the wiry man beside him. "He ain't like no monster I've ever seen. Didn't even know giants went feral, don't know why the King even puts up with them."

"I shall thank you to keep your opinions behind your teeth." The Professor said with an equally venomous tone, eyes on the guard's lips. He did not like these people, not one bit.

The guard snorted as they reached the door, jangling his large ring of keys hard before unlocking the door. The noise seemed to cause a stir in the room beyond, deep clanks of heavy chains and wary rumbles.

"If you need me, just scream." The guard growled, almost kicking Finch into the room, his lithe form struggling to keep upright as he stumbled. "Though you probably won't get the chance if you're too close." With that, the door closed with a resounding boom.

"Honestly. No manners." Finch complained, dusting himself down and turning. The cell was dark and musty, rats and rotting food littered across the floor. In the centre of the room, one wrist shackled to a pillar, was a very sickly looking giant. Skin and bones, beard wild and eyes burning with a hunger that made Finch shiver slightly. A ring was drawn around him in chalk, presumably the length of his reach.

"Dear me… Oh, you poor soul." As he dared a few steps, the giant immediately began to snarl at him, his yells making Finch cringe. He didn't cover his ears. He didn't retreat.

"Now, now…" He said softly, holding his hands up with a soft smile. "I'm a friend. Friend." At the sound of his own tongue, the giant fell silent. He looked at Finch with suspicion, his eyes dark and narrow.

Finch mustered himself, taking a few more tentative steps as he conjured forth his knowledge of giantish. "I'm not here to harm you." His pronunciation was always a little off, considering you do need a very deep timbre to pull off the more guttural vowels.

"Food." The word was raspy, as though the man hadn't spoken in weeks. Months.

Finch nodded, jogging toward the cell door, getting his ear trumpet to press against the mesh. "Excuse me! Captain!" The gruff voice at the other side of the door didn't sound enthused that Finch was still alive. "Could you bring your prisoner a meal, please?"

"Piss off! You can have something, but that thing ain't getting anything."

Tightening his lips, Finch gave the door a weak kick. "In that case, I want a whole roast sheep and a cask of water."

"You're obviously not going to eat it yourself."

"Oh? Is this you refusing to give a guest of the King any refreshment?"

There was a beat of silence, then a grumble and stomping boots retreating. Smug, the Professor strolled back to where the giant was chained. "Do you need a drink before you can speak?"

A nod. He patiently waited just outside the circle, beginning to chat in giantish, mostly to keep his nerves at bay. "Don't worry. I know things seem bad right now, but I'm going to do my best to help."

When the door swung open, the giant tensed with a snarl, immediately beginning to try and snatch at the guards. They kept their distance, leaving a wheelbarrow and a cask just out of reach before retreating in barely contained terror.

"Allow me." Finch said, approaching as if he had known the giant for years. It was simple to give the keg a shove, and it rolled to the giant, who snatched it up and broke the lid in half with his fingernail, trying to sip from the shot-glass sized barrel as best he could. The human tried not to wince as he pushed the heavy barrow over the chalk line, knowing he couldn't show his nerves. Even if he was a little anxious, the smell of fear would only make things worse. Calm and collected, he looked up to see himself being watched.

He was within reach. It would only take a swipe of one huge hand and he'd be naught but a stain. "Do you speak the common tongue, sir?" Finch asked, stepping away from the whole roast sheep, which went ignored for now.

"Not much." Came the reply, raspy but a lot easier after the water. "Call me Njor."

"Professor J. Finch, at your service." He replied with a sweeping bow.

"Why are you here?" Njor reached for the sheep, eyes trained on Finch. He didn't even blink when treetrunk fingers splintered the barrow beneath their weight, still and steeled.

As crunching bone and hungry slurps echoed in the dungeon, Finch detailed his work as a giantologist, telling of how the King was rather perturbed by the fact that a rogue giant was 'causing destruction', and how Finch had used his connections to persuade him to let him 'tame the beast'.

"Thus, here I am. I'm afraid it's a 'kneel to your lord or die at his sword' situation." He peppered in the idiom, which seemed to make the giant perk up slightly. "But, if you need a new start, there's a wonderful place I know of. No slayers, plenty of food, completely out of King Fat Head's jurisdiction."

Njor licked his fingers, wiping them on his grubby rags, then reached toward Finch with the intent to grab. Holding out both arms, Finch spoke as loudly as he could. "I'll step on your hand if you lay it flat!" Immediately, the five threatening digits turned to rest on their backs against the cold floor, and Finch thanked Njor as he hopped into his palm. The feeling of being lifted was one he always treasured, the tickle in his gut making him feel giddy.

"You really want to help me?" Njor asked, eyes level with the human.

"Of course I do. Though you'll have to do something for me in return." At Njor's sneer, he gave him a beaming smile. "I'd like to ask you a few questions. Once you're settled. Besides that, I only ask that you do as I instruct so we can get out of here with our hides intact."

It felt good, watching the people of the castle squirm as shackles were unlocked, the colossal beast once more allowed to stand to his full height. All expected a rampage, expected blood to fly and walls to crack. But Njor's shoulders were slumped, his legs shaky, and his head hung low as Finch led him through the large doors that led to the arena. A sickening idea. Every booming step was slow and well placed, Finch not even looking up as they made their way to the back gate.

"I can carry you."

"I wouldn't want you to worry about me when you need to focus on your footing. We both know a gentleman of your size wouldn't fare well in a tumble, especially with how thin you are. No, no. You can drink and rest by the river, and I shall bring supplies."

Njor didn't reply, his eyes to the ground. The portcullis lifted slowly and both the human and the giant felt a slight prickle of sweat on their brows. They knew the archers were there. Finch didn't step out until it was high enough for both of them, feet above scuffing as the guards leant over the other side of the wall. Njor paused as he looked out at the sprawling green woodland below them, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Freedom.

"Now, before we briefly part ways, I need a word." Finch beckoned him, and Njor took a knee beside the Professor. "You must stay by the river where I can find you. Otherwise we'll both be for the chop. Alright?" Njor nodded, but Finch stood tall with a steely glint in his eye. "Swear on the mountains of your forefathers."

"I swear on the breath of my kin." Njor said with his hand on his heart.

Satisfied, Finch went one way, and Njor went the other, striding past the western edge of the village, ignoring the screams from villagers as he strode toward a cool drink.

By the time Finch had found someone willing to actually drive his cartload of food, it was already getting late in the day, and he hoped he hadn't kept Njor waiting too long. The driver was clearly antsy, as if he'd be snatched up any second, but Finch kept pleasantly chatting away as if nothing at all was amiss.

When they broke the treeline, Finch sighed in relief upon seeing the giant having a well earned nap, stretched out in the sunlight like a very very large cat.

"I wouldn't worry about waking him." Finch assured the man as he unloaded the groceries as quietly as possible. "Firstly, he's been through a lot. He's exhausted, bless him." He didn't notice the annoyance of the driver that he wasn't helping, instead going into lecture mode, hands clasped behind his back. "Secondly, giants have quite the difference in circadian rhythm and the alternations between stages of sleep. For example…"

Orca wants you to know it's ok to be tired 😴

Mesa

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