Chapter 3: Minced Meat

The elf’s eyes open. The bowl is in plain view with some mush on the side but no other elves around it. The sound of metal slicing into flesh is the first thing that comes into her ears, it is accompanied by a scraping noise hitting something solid and then against another piece of metal. Her feet clomp on the dirt of the cage as she approaches the bowl. It is empty. Somehow she must have slept through the banging on the cage and the wake up call from the bowl deliverer. She wheels on the heels of her feet, surveying the rest of the cage. They are doing the same thing as always. Playing with their closest friends, loners playing with their valuables and objects, there are a few empty blankets, including her old friend’s.

The necklace digs into her chest as she stands up from her crouching position near the bowl. She had just finished sliding her fingers on the edges, slurping down what remained of the mush, when her attention returned to the mincing sound. Two female trolls are sitting on the edge of the stone, each with a knife and a metal prong, cutting and slicing meat off of a corpse. The elf’s eyes narrow and she presses her face close to the bars of the cage. A foot leans off of the stone, an elven foot. There are long but thin slices all over the elf’s body. The trolls cut and then rip pieces of meat off the body, followed by a meaty thud. They land inside buckets. Dogs in the pit are shifting and panting, some make a small whining noise, which is greeted with harsh troll grunts and incomprehensible words. There is no blood coming from this corpse either. As the trolls cut across the body and remove the meat they pull the body up and it stays in a sitting position. Now the face is in full view. The eyes are glazed and they stare right at the cage. The rest of the horrified look has disappeared as the mouth has closed and the expression in the cheeks has also reset. The elf with the necklace straightens her back and her knuckles turn white from gripping the cages bars hard.

The flesh and meat are piled up into the buckets until they are stacked full and nothing but bones remain on top of the stone. The troll women take turns tossing bones to the dogs. They throw them high in the air and the dogs jump and fight for the bones. The scrawny canines continue to jump and fight for every bone until all of them are happily chewing in the pit. One troll woman scoops the remaining bones up, carries them to the pit and dumps them off to the side. The other troll’s hands firmly grip both buckets’ handles and the troll women disappear into a far hut. The elf’s hands glide down the metal pipes that plant the cage firmly in the ground. Her head tilts back up and her pupils zoom wide towards the stone. There is no blood, no bones, no meat left. Some pieces of discarded flesh remain, and strands of flesh gently clinging to forgotten cartilage. There is no movement from the elf as the sounds of elves shuffling and walking and playing are ringing out behind her. As the sun sits high in the sky, the highest spot of the day, another troll’s footsteps can be heard from around a hut. He approaches the stone with a small bowl of water and a leather rag. He washes the stone and removes all the bits of flesh and bone and cartilage that had remained there.

As the moon replaces the sun and smiles down, trolls gather around the stone and footsteps shake the ground as the two guards approach the cage. However, their heads then turn with a quick jolt towards the far edge of the village, directly by the forest. There is a lot of commotion coming from those trees. The troll guards’ confidence dissipates into the evening air, as sweeping changes spread across their faces. Smiles and big eyes, change to thin tightly closed lips, eyes centered with wandering pupils and one of the troll guards takes a step backwards. A roar fills the air and that is when the trolls all turn and run. Fleeing to their huts, not a single guard stays to challenge the tiger this time.

The tiger bounds towards the stone where it is met by several dogs. A giant paw swipes through the air, replacing a dogs face with giant red blotches, which fill deep wedges. A yelp barely escapes what remains of the dog’s mouth before sharp teeth swing and clamp down on the left side of its neck. The dog’s body goes up into the air and then it comes back down with its bones cracking and dislodging against the stone. The two dogs that are already in the circle, take timid steps forward. The tiger and the two hounds circle around each other. Those that remain come bounding up from behind. However, the tiger wings around taking turns swinging with both paws. Juices from their eyes fling upwards into the sky, parts of their cheeks escaping from their former faces. The ambush fails greatly as the dogs that were already in the circle take the opportunity to run. The tiger is not only strong; it is also fast, faster than any dog. Dragging them down, his paws sink deep into the hind legs of the nearest one. The jaws open and close around the dog’s tiny head, a wringing motion rips its neck as all that can be heard after that is a loud crack and a final whining whimper. The last dog stops and turns to face its death. It is as if the hound gives up and offers itself to the tiger. The tiger leans its head back letting out a roar that shakes the sides of the huts and rattles the cage’s door. Pouncing down on the surrenderer, its teeth meet the dog’s throat, taking the first bite while it is still alive. All the elves’ eyes are now wide, their hands on the cage’s bars; ones in the back shuffling to get a glimpse of their own.

The stone lies empty, the dogs’ corpses lay about and blood trickles and even starts to dry below them. Nothing can be heard except the sound of the tiger chewing, and ripping. It rips the hair out and gnaws the meat off of the bones of several dogs, then its jaws grip one’s leg. It drags the dog with it, as it exits the village. Perhaps saving it for later, perhaps for a midnight snack.

The village lies still for a while, not a single sound is heard. Then the flap of a hut flies back and the guard who usually patrols come out. His foot glides on the ground with a cautious rhythm as if the ground were sticky and holding it back. Then his other leg comes out. His patrolling is now slow and more like creeping than actually walking. Very quietly tip-toeing as he patrols step by step. He circles his way around the village in the usual fashion: twice around the center circle, once around the edge of the village counterclockwise, once around the edge of the village clockwise and then repeats it again and again. When he makes a sharp turn and heads up along the trees on the outer edge of the huts, the elf with the necklace slides up off of her blanket and tip toes towards her friend’s old sleeping place. There her fingers gently grasp the blanket and roll it up. She finds the bars where she was able to escape from before and slides out. Then she sneaks down into the dog pit and starts rummaging through the bones, picking up the fresher ones and dropping them into the blanket one by one. The glint of a blade reflects into her eye and she turns her head. The guard is coming back towards the center of the huts! She flops down on her stomach in the dog pit and waits. The guard is jittering, jumping at every sound such as crickets chirping, an arm of a branch reaching down, the sliding of leaves or shuffling of grass from the night’s breeze. The elf’s head peers up on the ridge of the pit, her eyes meet the troll guard’s feet as he passes the large hut on the other side of the stone. He piles the dog corpses on top of the stone. Once finished he walks around the circle one more time and then heads counterclockwise back past the dog pit. The elf’s head drops back down again and she waits. Counting to ten, then rising up she creeps and then runs with the bones all bundled up in the blanket. She runs to the forest and then she runs through the trees. She doesn’t stop running for any sound or shadow.

The elf comes to a halt; she slides between the trees and the bushes. Her free hand catches low branches as she continues past them. She stops again and her face strains forward. There is a clearing, a lake. There is a muddy beach with rocks near the edge of the forest, all the way around the pond. The elf climbs down and walks close to the pond’s waters. Peering into them, she finds no reflection. They are muddy and dark. The blanket drops to the ground and lands next to her feet. Then she stoops down and her fingers dig into the muddy sand. However, there is a lot more resistance than one would expect from sandy beach dirt. She pushes her fingers in deeper and harder and pulls the dirt out. Repeating this motion over and over. Her arms tense and shake with each motion that pulls more dirt out. Her elbows twitch side to side and slightly up and down as she presses her fingers back into the hole.

The sky just above the tree line is turning white. The elf looks up at it and then back down at the hole. She grabs the bundled up blanket and unties it, lowering the bones and then aligning them. They are shaped in a heart just like her necklace. When her shapes and structures are complete she picks up one bone and lies it on the blanket, shoving the dirt back into the hole on top of the bones. Finally she tramples the mound with her feet. She steps back and her eyes descend to the grave. Reaching down for the last bone she grabs it and lifts it high above her head, then slams it down penetrating deep into the dirt. She wraps the blanket around the bone and stands back once more. She is still resting her eyes on the grave, when she hears a growl coming from the trees. She backpedals with her hands at her sides and her legs in a wide stance but is knocked to the ground by the tiger’s pounce. She rolls over and back onto her feet and darts for the trees. The tiger is fast on her heels! She zigzags through the trees, she does loops around them too! The tiger goes full speed, then jerks to stop to re-acquire its target. The elf stumbles and falls into a tree trunk, the tiger soars through the air but she rolls out of the way as an orange and black heap thuds into the tree. The tiger is soon back on its feet and bounding after the elf. Her heart is pounding and her ribs are reaching deeper inside her body as if they are strangling each other. Her eyes hit the middle of the view in front of her as the huts of the village come into view.

“Watcha doin’ outside da cage again?” yells the guard as he sees the elf racing towards him. “Ya not gonna see da light of anotha-“ but he is cut off by his ever growing eyes, his swelling pupils. The elf is able to get past him and doesn’t turn around but hears a crash and a scream for help. She ignores the plea and squeezes through the bars, making it safely back inside the cage. Her hair hits the top end of her blanket as she clutches her necklace, until her knuckles grow white. There is no sound. Nobody is waking up. Not the trolls and not the elves. There is only the sound of teeth, gnawing and slicing meat.

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