Silent tremors shake my body, but not a single sound manages to find its way out of my throat, struck close by panic. A Night Dweller is behind me, its presence looming over me. He is waiting for something, the muscles of his arm still tense as I can see from the corner of my eye. He too is still in the same position.

But what is he waiting for?

I want him to let go of me. I want to fight, do something. But I know this will only anger him. He is, after all, a Night Dweller, and they're all the same. Terrible, cruel, hideous monsters. And I’m just a human.

A dark thought flashes through my mind. Will I end up like my mom and dad? With pieces of me scattered through the Troll lands.

My eyes widen when I hear the voices of the twins from the depths of the forest in front of me. They are still searching for me.

Are they the ones who this Troll or being is waiting for? Are these his friends? What have I done?

I have led them directly to me, making my situation much worse.

Eventually, the twins find us. They come from the dark woods and into the orange glow of the fire. Their steps vibrate the ground they walk on, and fear continues to quicken my pulse.

They scowl at me and then at the man behind me. I shudder when I see them in the light. The twins are huge, with muscular bodies, almost seven feet in height. I know that any human who dares to confront them would be dead with one swing from their fists.

They're even scarier in the light.

Staring at them, they’re almost identical. They have the same golden eyes and blond hair. Even their skin tone and body structure are similar. The only difference is one of them is slightly smaller, with a double set of tusks and missing an eye, but his hair covers the sunken orbit. The other is just a tad bigger with his hair styled in a flashy ponytail, and unlike his twin, he is missing a tusk.

I can only wonder in these moments which Night Dweller had caused those injuries. They look to be old wounds… It had to be something bigger and stronger than a Troll. Or maybe one of their own had done it.

Do they fight amongst themselves?

Golden tattoos dot their skin, the same color as their eyes and hair, but the markings seem to glow, especially in the flames of the fire.

The larger one is more daring and gets closer, but the smaller twin pushes his brother back with his arm. "Don't. He is not from our clan. Look at his markings. Orange. Take in the fact that we are also at our land’s border and the beginning of the Snowfire's territory."

The larger Troll doesn’t give up. He squints his eyes, examining the man or Troll behind me, while growling the words, "But we found her first. She is ours."

“She is on my land, so this woman is mine. She is no longer what you can deem as yours,” the Troll behind me states sternly. “Come any closer, and I will have every right to kill you, Vonkill or not.” The man then fists my hair and roughly pulls my head back so much that I am staring up at his dark red eyes. "And she is staying for dinner."

The twin with a missing tusk scoffs, "Fine. Keep her, but you're only causing more shit between our turfs. If we ever find you on our land, you're dead, Snowfire fuck. I mean it!"

“Likewise,” the man says, letting go of my hair. “But I am curious. Why start another war over just one simple, overfed human woman? She is not even that pretty or eye-catching.”

Overfed woman...? Not pretty? So, that is how they're labeling me now. I'd rather be just called fat and plain.

“The same can be asked about you,” the immature, hot-headed twin growls. “Why do you want this overfed villager? Why fuck with us and our hunt?”

“She is on my land,” the Troll behind me retorts. “Anything, even a rabbit, is mine if it crosses over to the Snowfire territory. And she, like a rabbit, just so happened to fall into the arms of another one hunting her.”

The twins both sneer before the older one turns around, leaving behind his parting words. “If she's still alive the next time we see her, she's ours for sure. Whether she is on our or your land.”

The other shortly follows, having a nastier temper. “And we're ripping your tongue out. Fuckhead.”

“Good luck with that,” the man hums nonchalantly, watching the twins slowly slink off into the darkness, their bodies disappearing into the thick greenery surrounding us.

The Troll behind me loosens his grip as he ponders, “Now, what to do with you, lassie? It's not every day a human girl comes running to me. Not in a long time anyway.”

A long time? Another human girl has run to him before? Or did he mean he has captured or hunted another human girl in the past?

He grips my face squishing my cheeks as he turns my face toward him. This time, I get a direct view of him, now that he is not yanking my head back.

His eyes remind me of the rich summer wines served at the autumn equinox banquets, and his hair is long and white but not due to age like the elders of the village, but more silvery. He, like the twins, has markings, but his are of burnt orange.

Three of these tattoos are lines, and they run vertically over one eye. And the more I stare at him, the greater I begin to realize something is wrong with the eye. Its color is somewhat duller, and the light of fire doesn't reflect well off it either. He is probably blind on his right side.

All the trolls I have seen so far have some terrible injuries.

Was there a great battle fought that we humans were unaware of, or was something attacking them?

They did mention a war because of turfs, but it is scary to think of other Night Dwellers bigger than a Troll or something with equal strength. I doubt we humans would have been the ones to cause these injuries if we had attacked them.

I swallow hard, the longer I stare at him. His eyes are unkind and dark, as if he was having a very bad night. There is no mercy or remorse in them for me or for anything around him.

He will probably kill me. Eat me, more likely.

I look down at his tusks, large and jutting upward. They are as sharp as the sickles human hunters use. He is not as tall as the twin Trolls, slightly smaller in height. I find it surprising he is only a few inches taller than me. Six feet, if I were to guess.

“I am curious about something, lassie,” he says seriously. Though, it is to be admitted that never has his mood wavered to anything else so far. "You humans all scurry into your homes when night falls, but here you are, running like a lost rabbit with wolves on your tail. What are you doing? Are you one of those foolish hunters? You don't look the part."

His eyebrows furrow, trying to figure me out. I can see he refers to me as a rabbit quite a bit. I am nothing like one. Rabbits are cute, but I suppose he thinks of them as nothing but food like how he currently sees me.

He loosens his grip on my cheeks in order for me to speak, and I reply, my voice wavering, "I was injured from a fall, and when I woke up, it was night. I am no hunter. I'm just a villager. I travel to deliver goods, and that is how I ended up here. That’s all I am. I promise!"

He narrows his eyes at me, his face scrunching up as if trying to determine whether I am lying or not. I would be foolish to lie to him in my current situation.

The Troll finally lets go of me, but I do not run away from him, as I know the twins are lingering in the woods elsewhere, angry about losing me to him.

"So just a merchant then. You have a nasty head wound," he informs me. “But, for a second, I thought you were a hunter and that maybe you were with the other guys.”

Other guys?

From the throbbing in my head, I think I know I have a head injury. The adrenaline from my run has blocked out the pain mostly, but I am sure it will eventually hurt me. And if I live till the morning, I will have quite a headache, that is if the other injuries scattered all over my body don’t kill me until then.

I am quiet as I watch him back away, snatching a bag off the ground, and he throws it toward me.

I automatically flinch, covering my face, expecting heavy rocks to crash against me, but it lands just a few inches away from my shoes with a clattering noise.

"Use whatever you see fit for your wound. The bag belonged to the corpse over there—one of your people, a hunter. I'm sure he had stuff for injuries." He curls his lip to reveal not sharp teeth but normal human ones, except for his bottom tusks. "He was stupid to think I wouldn't notice him cross into our land. But he just ended up as another dinner."

I look at the bag in confusion and then at the nameless troll.

Is he...helping me?

My eyes glance back at the corpse he was talking about. The man's leg is missing, and his belly is opened. His insides have also been removed. My stomach lurches and threatens to throw its contents through my mouth.

This Troll was eating him! Had to be. Something that could eat a human like this would not help me without wanting to take something from me. What does he want? Does he not want his food to be injured unless he is the one who has caused the injury? Or is there something I'm missing?

I turn my head and bring my attention back to the bag he threw at me. I kneel down, shuffling through it. There is nothing useful besides a tin of ointment. I take it out, and recognize it to be the one from my village, just by looking at it.

"Why are you helping me?" I ask him hesitantly.

What will he say? Night Dwellers can't be trusted.

He walks around me to stand on the other side of me. "I can't help a woman in need?" He then stops upon reaching the fire a few feet away from the corpse. "You are my guest for dinner. Did I not tell you this already? Or were you not listening?"

Guest.

I slide my finger into the tin and rub the ointment where my head throbs the most, and also all over my gashes. I wince as I dab at all my wounds but continue to speak, "I am a human. Trolls do not help humans."

"You're right. We do not help humans." He sits down on a large log, placing his elbows on his knees. "But who says I'm helping you?"

"You gave me something for my wound, and you're calling me a guest," I murmur. "Why aren't you trying to attack me or eat me?"

"I have food." He reaches for a chunk of unidentifiable meat that was placed around a stick over the fire and grins at me. "I am not that much of a glutton like yourself to want to eat two things in one night. So, you're a guest for tonight, not on my menu."

He tears into the stretchy meat with his teeth, and I pale as I cross my arms over my middle, pushing the tin into my apron.

I feel sick to my stomach to think he is eating that poor man. The human was a hunter who was only trying to do us villagers some good.

Tomorrow or the day after that would be me over that fire. The Hunter’s body will not last the Troll forever. He will be hungry again, perhaps sooner than later. I don’t even know if Trolls eat anything other than meat.

He licks his fingers when he finishes the cooked meat, and his eyes narrow darkly at me once he is done. "A guest shouldn't be so rude to stare at me like that. You act as if I'm disgusting. It's only a rabbit, you know, something you eat. It…she…trespassed here onto my land."

Rabbit?

I cast my gaze down to the ground and murmur an apology, "I'm sorry." I sound wimpy right now, but my death will come faster if I say anything other than that.

"Come here," he orders suddenly.

My eyes return to him, and I do not want to move, so I don't. Instead, I only stare. I like being this far away from him. I feel safer this way even though it is a false sense of security.

"I'm not going to ask again," he warns. "Do you want me coming to you?"

I shake my head before slowly stepping forward but keeping him at arm's length.

"Sit." That is his next order. And when I start to sit on the ground, he 'tsks' and growls, "Not on the ground."

"T-there is nowhere else to sit." I stumble over my words, my heart pounding, as I do not want him angry. That is the last thing I need.

My eyes look around, finding nowhere but the ground.

"I was right to call you simple. You're a dumb thing, lass. When a man asks you to sit, you sit on his fucking lap." He grabs my wrist and violently pulls me toward him, forcing me to sit on him.

I immediately stiffen as now he has a hold around my waist, and I can feel the heat of his legs under my thighs and also the fanning of his breath on my nape.

"It's going to be a dull night if you just sit here," he hums as his fingers trace the seam of my lips before pulling the lower one down. My heart clenches as my mind wonders about what he is going to do to me.

Is he going to…? No, not that, of all things. When I prayed for a man's embrace, I did not want this!

He then reaches over to the fire, shifting my body with his but still having a firm grip on me, and he plucks another strip of meat from the fire before he pushes it to my lips, ultimately surprising me.

"Eat with me." His words are more like a command than a suggestion.

I am not even given time to nod or reply when he pushes the meat forcefully past my lips. It's hot, burning my tongue.

So, this is his torture for now. A glimpse of what is to come.

I breathe in sharply, chewing just a little and swallowing the rest, but he doesn't seem to believe I have swallowed everything as he forcefully shoves his fingers past my lips and into my mouth, checking every last crevice of it.

"You have a soft mouth," he comments. "But I'm sure the only thing that's been in here is food. Right?" He laughs at his own comment, belittling and torturing me.

Damn Troll…if you were a human.

"Do you want to try something different?" he asks suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

I vigorously shake my head in a “No,” my eyes watering as he pushes his fingers all the way to the back of my throat, making me choke after a while.

"Not bad," he says next, commenting on something I don't understand at the moment. "And that is a shame...we could have had some unusual excitement tonight." He takes his fingers out of my mouth, shaking the salvia from them and wiping the rest on my clothes. "Perhaps another time then."

Another time?

He shoves me off his lap forcefully, and I fall onto the ground with a thud.

"Now we go home," he grunts as he stands, and before I can even fix myself, he lifts me off the ground and throws me over his shoulder.

I am surprised he could lift me in one movement as he has. I am no small woman, as everyone is well aware, and not many have ever attempted to lift me. But to be carried like this with ease, I know he has to be strong, possibly ten times stronger than a human man.

He walks forward, and hanging from his back, I can see the campsite getting smaller with each of his strides. I have no choice but to remain slumped over his shoulder.

What is next to come for me?

I'm unsure of my fate. But I know one thing is certainly on my mind. And that is an escape.

I will find my way out.