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Dedrick ran through the trees, leaping over bushes and logs as though he were a deer, and clutching his prize tightly. The small gold statue of a portly fellow weighed heavy in his arms, as though it were filled with stones, not the small amount of purified ore it must have taken to make the thing. He smiled as he thought of it, and huffed a little harder in breathless laughter. It would fetch him a very high price, the heavy thing for how small it was. The camp he took it from would probably never miss it. They would never follow him for such a small thing.
He paused in his running, then, and, leaning against a tree to catch his breath, looked behind him just in case. Fog was all he saw for a moment. In his running, he’d failed to notice it. He watched for a bit, his tired eyes finding little solace for their lack of sleep in the mists’ movement. It swirled about slowly, lazily, moving in dim little dances with the stirring of any forest animal. Shadows were starting to form about in the thickening fog, and Dedrick laughed again. Almost, he had begun to think that they were of men. Almost. They looked like men, certainly, but they couldn’t be; even if someone had followed him, he would have been running far too fast and long for anyone to have followed him. Even on horseback, they would have lost him in the fog by now.
The shadow-men strode closer and closer, growing larger with each passing moment as they neared him, and finally, he saw a silhouette. The orange fire of a torch lit the thickness of the ever encroaching fog around him, throwing the monstrous looking shadow-man into the dense cloud behind him. Dedrick groaned; someone had followed him, and they would attempt to get their possession back from him.
He pushed himself from the tree just as the person spotted him, and Dedrick sprinted away. The man followed suit quickly. They had run only for a short while before Dedrick, looking back to check on the progress of his pursuer, fell. A log, obscured from his vision into the night by the fog had made him trip, and he banged his head hard on the small golden icon he hadn’t managed to keep in his hands when he fell. When he awoke again, it was to find the man standing over him, and tying his hands together securely with thick rope, and harshly, he was dragged back to camp.

“Do you know what it is, exactly, that you stole?” asked an accented voice, waving the little portly statue in front of him. Dedrick, on his knees before the man, and his hands fastened tightly behind his back, shook his head. “It is something very sacred to me.” Said the man in front of him. “It is from my home land. This is a gold Buddha. He is a teacher among my people.” The man had stood after Dedrick’s answer, and had been pacing, but had paused to look on his captive once more. “And you have tried to steal my teacher.” He crouched again in front of him. “And for that, I need penance.” Dedrick’s heart began to pound as the accented man took a large knife from his belt, and slid his thumb across the blade, as though testing its sharpness.
“What do you mean, exactly, ‘penance’?” Dedrick spoke up. He was already scared, and the big knife in front of his kneeling form was even more frightening.
The man played with his knife a bit longer, as though considering his words. Then: “You may never look upon this sacred relic again. Never should you be allowed that honor. And never shall you walk away with it again.” It was stated simply. As the man got up and walked away, he caught one of his men by the shoulder.
“Cut out his eyes. And smash his leg. Never shall he look on it, never shall he walk with it.”
Dedrick’s body tensed, and his eyes shut tightly as he felt strong hands grasp him tightly and hold him down. His heart beat so hard, he thought it would hurl itself out of his chest, and his legs had gone numb with fear so he couldn’t move.
“Wait!” finally came from his throat, and he struggled to get free. “Please! No! I’ll do anything you ask of me, please!! I’ll be a slave, anything!!” he screamed, and, forgetting himself in his terror, opened his eyes to plead. In that moment, the large men that had him brought the knife to his eyes and carefully, almost surgically, worked at his eyes. Dedrick screamed. He could do nothing more. His throat grew sore, and his voice raspy as they took their time at their work, making several passed at his eyes before they were actually finished. There was another, then. He could feel him hovering over him as the other two held him down for the second punishment.
He could hear the large thing being drawn high over the man’s head, and heard it whooshing through the air, making its way towards his leg. He cried out once more as the mallet struck, but could do little more. The men left him then, their jobs done for the night, and he felt someone scooping his up. The darkness that now had his eyes invaded his senses, making them numb, and finally, he was out.



((the reminder? PUT THIS ON YOUR COMPUTER, YOU DORK!! *I'm screaming that to myself as I'm typing this here because I don't have my computer, and I can't e-mail it to myself because I don't remember my other password...*))