Avarice Desperation Valley Ch. 22

I would like to thank all my readers for the engagement, it means so much to me. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and Nathan who was only supposed to be a bit character grew into so much more.

Hell's Kitchen

Nathan spent his subsequent days in the cavernous steel kitchen engaged in endless toil. There was a never ending supply of pots to scour, floors to wash, ovens to clean and fuel, and an endless stream of meals to prepare and distribute throughout the vast underground complex.

For one so accustomed to the open spaces above, this place seemed to Nathan as though he was sentenced to the very bowels of hell itself. The new boy had been made well aware that he was not permitted to leave the confines of this cloistered new world. His new and very possessive master Robbie saw to that, he had been warned his punishment for doing so would be very severe.

The days were always long and hard, Nathan was shoved from Robbie's sour unkempt bed in the predawn hours, but only after he had pleasured the cook each dawn to the obese man's satisfaction. "Cleanliness is as close to godliness as we mortals ever get." Robbie would remark in his tittering voice, whilst his new Master's piggish gaze bored into his naked back admiring his every angle.

Nathan would wash as he was instructed in the small ceramic basin perched on its rusted iron stand in the corner, run a comb through his light blond hair, then don his crumpled clothes. Shivers of revulsion wracked him, for he found the cook very distasteful indeed and longed only to be above ground again with his true master Wezley Bennett.

He sighed inwardly with longing, lean strong and hard, something to be admired, not soft, flabby, and constantly perspiring like this fat pig of a man he now had the misfortune to serve. Still he knew this hideous man would ensure his survival for the time being whilst he formulated his plan of escape. So he played the part of the perfect slave boy, never once giving the cook reason for complaint.

He would then spend his next eighteen hours or so in the adjoining kitchen where the other three slaves were already up and about commencing the days tasks. Everyone there knew their job and there was little chatter, it was an oppressive atmosphere indeed. The four youths toiled in silence, sharing only fleeting stares to the background sounds such as the hiss of escaping steam from the boiling cast iron pots on the hulking black stove top, and the crackle of the hot coals ensconced within.

The three other inmates of Robbie's world cohabited in one of the other equally dark, musty, cellar storage rooms. All sleeping together on a very worn, vermin eaten mattress thrown down haphazardly on the cold earthen floor. There were no blankets to keep out the cold and the damp so at nights they huddled together miserably catching what little sleep they could.

The girl was no more than twelve years of age, her body not yet showing the first signs of puberty, probably due to her poor living conditions. She possessed, unkempt, perfectly straight dark brown hair, that fell to her mid back. This she tied back from her hollow face with a ragged piece of cloth. She had deep set, dark brown eyes that never looked up from the floor or her tasks. She would make eye contact with no one, her submission driven into her from childhood. This slave girl of the kitchens was furtive and sullen, her skin pale with a waxy gray unhealthy pallor to it. Nathan only knew her name as bitch, that was all Robbie and the other boys referred to her as. She was treated as dirt by all.

The boys were cruel to her often, burning her with scalding water or stealing her portion of the food. The huge cook was equally cruel, hitting her frequently whenever he felt displeased with anything, even if it was not her fault. Her pale skin breaking out in welts and bruises almost immediately on her skinny, awkward frame.

Nathan would cringe inwardly every time he witnessed it, for it seemed her petite body would break at any moment, yet somehow she endured. The poor thing would sob softly and recommence her task gathering herself from the floor, moving like an automaton devoid of all hope. Robbie was always hitting her for something, he had a bad temper when things didn't go his way.

Nathan began to suspect that Robbie didn't like her because she was a female, he was always threatening her telling her he would give her away to Dr Krosse. She would go even paler at this threat and try even harder to go unnoticed. It seemed to Nathan compared to her life, he lead a life of luxury.

The other two of Robbie's boys despised Nathan. That much was plain, they refused to interact with him at all, teasing and calling him derogatory names. The youngest one Jimmy was ten or so, and it was apparent the kitchens fed him well for he was not thin, but had a very solid build. He had short tousled light brown hair and rounded features, he was always helping himself to one delicious morsel after another when the cook was not watching with his dirty hands.

The oldest boy Geoff who was about sixteen clearly resented Nathan's presence there and made no attempt to hide it. Nathan guessed before he arrived Geoff was Robbie's favorite, but the cook had tired of the half grown lad, and he had lost favor, and had since been reduced to the status of the other two slaves.

I will have to watch him Nathan thought, he could well see the malice in the way the boy regarded him over the steaming pots and pans. He did not trust Geoff's motives one little bit, and was constantly wary. Geoff would and could hurt him if he was careless.

The best thing in Nathan's day was the kitchen cat Tiger, reminding him of his Grandma's cat who he was very fond of. Watching this cat Nathan would be projected back to what seemed like another time when he lived in his Grandma's house. Both of his parents had perished in a car accident when he was no more than six months old leaving him an orphan, his grandmother stepping in to raise him. The young female tabby kitten instantly took a liking to him, as Nathan would slip it small morsels of his own food at meal times.

Tiger often slept by the warm hearth of the wooden stove that was always alight, and would frequently seek him out, finding her way into Nathan's lap purring with delight. Tiger was swift and agile and caught the many mice that plagued the store room set off of the kitchen. The blond boy would watch the cat many a time cruelly rend its prey. Then for no apparent reason other than the fun of it, she would release it, her tail twitching and eyes intent as the poor mouse would run in blind fear. Only to be caught again, and again in Tiger's tearing claws.

So cruel yet so beautiful Nathan thought, and the thought of cruelty in all its forms excited Nathan in a way he could not explain. It always had. His mind drifting to the glorious days as he would watch Bennett deal with a captive, just like the cat and the mouse, and he felt himself going hard.

To head off the sensation he hurriedly tried to busy himself with stirring the huge black iron cauldron that squatted on the stove top, filled with steaming warm porridge, as he did not need a beating for standing idle. He had not failed to notice though that Robbie would often overlook his mistakes, and he could see the other three of Robbie's unfortunates had not failed to notice that fact either, the two boys casting him black looks whenever they got the chance.

Because Nathan was now a mute, most thought him simple and incapable of intelligent thought, and he was generally ignored by all, yet intelligence he had in abundance. Even Robbie's three miserable slaves chose for the most part to ignore him completely, often mentioning in their conversations things which Nathan's keen ears and mind took in for later reference and use.

However ignored by Robbie he was not, for the cook had become infatuated with his latest boy, and Nathan spent every night submitting to the obese cook's lusts, patiently playing along, hoping against hope he would get his chance to locate and free his master, somehow and soon. Nathan meekly did all he was bid never questioning the whims of his new master no matter how unappealing the task. His mind had become the mind of a true slave, any vestiges of defiance had been crushed from him weeks ago, at the hands of Bennett. Gone was all desire to rebel or resist. Survival was all he knew and was all he was interested in.

Nathan lay now in the close to airless darkness drifting in and out of restless slumber, dreaming of his Master imprisoned, and the glorious day he would free him. Yes he would be worth something then, yes he would make his Master proud. This gave him a warm happy feeling and was all he had focused on since his capture.

Nathan listened to the rumblings issuing from the scores of pipes that traversed the ceiling, the arteries fueling this steel clad world, a world that never stopped. Deep beneath the ground the sounds of this subterranean place echoed and reverberated all about him with ceaseless repetition. His slender, naked form was pressed against Robbie's grotesque, slumbering obesity in the small lumpy double bed. The cook's immense weight all but crushing the poor excuse for a mattress beneath them both. Sending Nathan rolling hard up against him just where Robbie liked him to be.

So Nathan bided his time plotting and planning, waiting for his chance to arrive in this hellish, dimly illuminated, metal prison, far beneath the earth. The boy had almost forgotten the sensation of sunlight and the clean desert air on his flesh, as he had not glimpsed the surface world since his capture many days ago, even through a window. There were no windows in these lower levels, just twisting dark walkways that all looked the same. As he lay there he dreamt of those seemingly distant things, his only desire to be back in his Master's protection again. He was brought back sharply to his present troubles by Robbie's fitful sleep, the tired springs protesting loudly under the massive cook's weight as he shifted in his slumber, and snored loudly.

Nathan sighed softly at the thought of the harsh and cruel world above, off limits to him, missing its few freedoms. Shuddering slightly as the visualization came into his partially dream like state of his true master, who to the impressionable and fearful Nathan, presented a magnificent sight indeed, Wezley Bennett. This man often invaded Nathan's regular nightly imaginings, just as surely as he had invaded and taken Nathan's very life.

Part fiction, part fact, in Nathan's distorted and frightened mind, the lad vowing to himself he would find a way no matter how perilous to free his beloved Lord. The events of the past day spurring his resolve to take action as swiftly as possible. Again the past day's disturbing scenario played out in his head, leaving him filled with mortal dread, and desperate for the protection of his powerful master. He was fervently wishing it had never occurred.

The scrawny boy shivered despite the clammy body pressed hard too close to his own, and the stifling heat in the tiny, horrid space of Robbie's private quarters. As he lay there in the foul man's embrace, disturbing thoughts flowed through Nathan's tortured mind, his reason shaped by adversity, now resembling little of the caring, polite, boy he had been some six short weeks ago in his grandmother's care.

Nathan reviewed the events of the day, and in particular his uncomfortable, perhaps not so chance meeting in one of the many meandering corridors, with none other than the fearsome specter of Victor Krosse, as he ran an errand for Robbie.

There Krosse was, quite unexpectedly, swathed in his formidable black neatness, looking like the predatory crow, and Nathan very afraid, feeling like prey. Krosse rounded on the boy instantly and with dubious intent, Nathan wanting only to run as Krosse's firm grip alighted on his narrow shoulders, and the evil blue eyes burned into Nathan's very soul; interrogative, seeking his answers to the questions on his mind.

"I would speak with you slave, come." Krosse's bony hand tightening to a painful presence on the boy's thin shoulder with the utterance of the request. Nathan was afraid and unsure of what he should do, but his senses and what he had gleaned from overhearing others general conversations, warned him from accompanying the likes of Krosse anywhere, and certainly not alone, he had to get back to the protection of the kitchen immediately was all he could think.

Raw fear, powerful, all consuming, and a well practiced sense of self preservation drove the lad to disobey the command almost immediately it left Krosse's lips. Nathan suddenly and frantically wrested himself from the surprised Krosse's grasp. Youth and terror of the moment lent him sudden speed, as he bit down on the restraining arm hard, drawing Krosse's blood in the struggle. Krosse reeled in surprise freeing the boy to bolt down the passageway, back to the kitchens and the safety of Robbie's jurisdiction.

If Nathan had thought the sanctuary of the kitchen would save him he was shortly proven wrong, as the heavy steel door was flung wide, and a furious Krosse entered Robbie's domain. His menacing ice chips of eyes latching on to Nathan's slight, fearful form, as he cowered, trembling with fear behind Robbie's ample bulk, fervently seeking any protection that could be had there.

Robbie glanced up, agitated to be so disturbed with his preparations for the impending evening meal, as he was running behind this evening and in a vile mood as a result. The flustered cook was surprised as he registered the presence of none other than Victor Krosse, whose face was a mask of snarling rage, as his menacing black clad form stepped briskly through the heavy metal portal, a rare visitor indeed to Robbie's domain.

Before Robbie had time to question the intrusion and its cause, Krosse was already halfway across the room in hot pursuit of Nathan shouting at him loudly, scattering the alarmed servants, and Tiger underfoot. "You come here you hear me, no one disobeys me slave! You will be sorry!"

However this was Robbie's kingdom, and he was very possessive of all that was his, and that possession made him bold and careless. For all who lived here in this underground kingdom regardless of their importance knew it was folly to mess with Victor Krosse for any reason. To stand in his way was something no sane man did, it was easier and safer to let the sinister second in command do as he wished and that was the code most lived by.

Robbie did not stop to think and reason the ramifications, after all in the grand scheme of things a cook only ranked so high, even a gourmet one such as Robbie.

"What the hell do you think your doing? Robbie's voice was high and strained. "He is mine. Gifted to me by Lord Lothar himself! If you have business with him it is with his owner, me." Robbie snapped waspishly at the black clad intruder, pointing a pudgy finger into his rotund belly to further emphasize the truth of his statement. The obese man was clearly very annoyed, maneuvering his considerable bulk between the cowering Nathan, and Krosse's angry forward momentum, carving knife in hand.

Victor Krosse in all his fury only narrowly avoided a collision with the huge cook, pulling up suddenly to a jarring halt, face livid with rage, his blue eyes sparkling in acute anger. The two men glared at each other and for many seconds nothing was said, everyone, even the other kitchen slaves frozen in mid task. Tiger hiding under the table fur bristling.

"I merely wished to question him about the captives." Krosse said breaking the tableau of frozen silence, his voice quieter but nonetheless filled with deadly ire.

Nathan's ears pricked as he thought of his Master somewhere imprisoned, and deep inside his stomach turned as he realized this mean no nonsense looking man was going to try to extract some kind of information from him to use to hurt his beloved master and his men. He could not let this happen and cursed himself inwardly for revealing his ability to write.

His mind was racing with frightening thoughts. Would this man take him and torture him for that information? He knew the answer already and shivered, grasping at Robbie's shirt, and he knew time was running out. He had to appeal to Robbie's every sense of vanity, and be the best slave boy the kitchens had ever had. He would go nowhere alone now and if he did he would do so with all the senses of a wild hunted animal, watching carefully every dark shadow and corner he would not be caught again. Nathan wanted to weep in his fear and helplessness but he held it in check, his face white, his green eyes glistening with barely suppressed tears.

Robbie puffed himself up, adding inches to his already distended bulk and answered, his effeminate voice seemed comical. "In case it has escaped you, the boy is a mute. Stupid as a sheep, but he does have other redeeming qualities." Placing his arm protectively around Nathan and hugging him hard into his ample side, hoping to call Krosse's bluff with his statement. He was not going to lose this prize to Krosse's experiments he thought with annoyance.

"Why don't you go and wash and peel those potatoes my boy, and you three get back to work I never said you could stop! Get your minds on it, NOW!" Robbie snapped, his voice even higher pitched than was usual. Lashing out at the closest unfortunate with his quirt causing her to yelp with its stinging pain and hasten back to work.

Nathan taking Robbie's cue scurried to the rear of the room and commenced his task eyes averted. Gathering up the scrubbing brush in shaking hands and washing the huge basket of potatoes vigorously, he dared not look up.

Krosse's icy eyes locked on the boy like a hawk, looking directly past the cook, sensing he would not win this day. "So if you do not mind Sir." Robbie quipped, calmer now. The "Sir" was pronounced with sarcastic emphasis. "I have much to do, and we must get on. I do not have time for such distractions. You of all people should know how displeased our Lord is when dinner is served late." The cook wiped his perspiring forehead with the hem of his apron, and began to carve the meat turning his back on Krosse in a gesture of haughty dismissal.

Krosse stood there fuming yet unable to find it in himself to retreat, as Robbie dismissed his presence completely, fussing over this evenings fare of roast sheep and mouth watering vegetables, garnered in rosemary leaves. You arrogant and stupid fool Krosse thought, I will get you, you bloated half wit, all in good time. It is I who truly rules here, and Lord Lothar listens to my council! His deviate mind ranted.

However none of this he said aloud leaving off with a final dialogue that chilled Nathan completely. "I will question him Robbie mark my word. Next time I will have Lord Lothar's permission, and you will not stop me. I can take him any time I like, do not forget that." Krosse's tone was threatening and his expression was flat and unreadable as he turned on his heel and departed from the room, the heavy metal door clanging shut behind him like the chiming of the bells of doom.

Nathan thought on all this now as he lay there, feeling like a caged bird, his heart beating feverishly against his chest, the blood pounding in his temples as he fretted at his current situation. He jumped as Robbie in his sleep unconsciously ran his soft clammy hand over Nathan's thigh in a caress. However the fat cook did not wake and continued his snoring slumber, Nathan dreaming of his true Master once again, of being by his side, the comforting scent of him, touching him in the dark. A single tear ran down his hot cheek, and his blue green eyes sparkled in the dark, as a plan of desperate action formulated in Nathan's mind.