Elleka

Day 14

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley so this gigantic beast weakened my limbs. The beast was confined in a glass cube the size of my two storey house, and the guards presided over an arena four metres above the dragon’s cage. I looked at the sky and could not tell how long I had been brought to this land. I had tried counting the days by memorising the sun’s movements, but all I could see was a black sky from my prison cell. So I write this first entry as day 14, because I've been here for (I guess) two weeks.

I shared this cell with thirteen other women, and even though our features were distinctively proving that all of us were from different corners of the earth; our skin, eyes, hair and bones were not designed to resist the air of the Valley. We were caged, like animals behind a glass at a zoo, and this glass shifted from being an opaque brown to a transparent screen whenever the leader wanted to see his pets. It was during one of his visits, when our tinted cage made the outside world visible to us, that I saw the silhouette of a dragon in the cell adjacent to ours. The majestic creature crouched, its muzzle snorting smoke that filled its cage. I saw the occasional flicker of a red eye and the scratches carved on the glass panes. The sight sent chills to my bones.

In that moment, my cell became transparent enough that I barely remembered any panes prevented me from running away. Even if I tried to run, I would be shot down by the men guarding the place. The guards wore long black layers of cloth, very similar to Muslim women’s burqas. They were three times taller than all the women in my cell and walked around with their AK47 more sophisticated than I ever saw before. Their weapons hung on their back and were massive. The weapons of this land were part of the holder’s body. They became one with their arm whenever they decided to fire so that it seemed like the bullets came out of their palms.

When I first came here, I saw one of the guards pull the cloth from his ankles and insert a knife under his skin, like in a pouch. A few minutes later, one guard entered our cell, left sheets and ink with every prisoner, asking us to keep our sanity by writing anything we wanted to.

Day 15

The Valley reminded me of home, the gorge of Black River. While the gorge was a forest with dangerously slippery terrain and beautiful cascades, the Valley was an opposite sight. The land was barren, the soil was as white as snow and the wind spread its dust like flour on the guards’ black clothes. It was this contrast with home that reminded me of where I came from and why I wanted to go back. I missed the blue sky of Mauritius and the yellow sand sticking in between my toes from the beach behind my house. I remembered climbing on the boulder in my garden to reach the corossol tree’s highest branch. I swung on it and sat there, like a cat resting at noon. The sight was magnificent, soothing and breathed life into me. Facing west, the blue lagoon was the perfect companion of the azure sky. I loved spending hours contemplating the visible ocean currents that spiralled in the centre of the lagoon. One would think they were designed in a particular way to generate an underwater waterfall. The waves crashed against the coral reef and its pure white foam produced the ocean’s own Milky Way. I heard the sound of the waves in the middle of the night, the birds chirping at dawn and my mother’s call in the morning.

I could only close my eyes and imagine that the Valley’s wind transported me there, in the middle of the sea, flying away among the seagulls.

That was where I came from but the sight I had in front of me when I opened my eyes, was chaotic. The sky in the Valley was always black whether the sun was shining or not and I could not understand which part on earth could allow that. Even in Northern Norway, you do not actually see the sun in the middle of the sky during polar nights. However, this Valley had a sun but no day. Time moved slower than in Mauritius, and the sky constantly remained a midnight sky. There were stars on this pitch black canvas without a moon. The air was neither hot nor cold and none of us were sweating in this white, dry desert land. I looked at the dragon’s glass cage, tinted brown to hide us from its sight.

Day 4 (I need to write my first memories of this place, but it is currently Day 17)

There were fourteen of us brought to the Valley, one tried to escape on the first night of being caught. The fourteenth woman was an opportunist and I wouldn’t blame her, instead I admire her for I would never dare do what she did. As soon as the sun had set and our feet were untied to walk towards the plates set on the ground for our dinner, she ran in the opposite direction, shielding herself behind the boulders in her path. The terrain was to her advantage and she would have gotten away, if it weren’t for the weird weapons I described, weapons that sprung from the body. Since we barely saw the weapons on the guards, she must have thought they were unarmed. She dropped dead in a blink when the guard in front of me removed a dagger from inside his ankles and threw it in her heart. Another had moved his body in such weird contortions that I cannot explain, allowing a rifle to move from his back to his arm, and firing from his palm. His shot hit the boulder next to the woman and the guard who had successfully hit his aim with the dagger, chuckled. Thirteen women were left and now the metal chains were tightened around our ankles even during dinner. We were also placed in the glass cells, hearing and seeing nothing unless the guards made the panes disappear. I noticed there were about a dozen other cells, similar to ours but different in size. I was curious to know who (or what) they held.

I looked around my own cell, at the skinny Indian woman sitting on the floor. I was dying to speak to someone, to connect and to speak of the people I loved, the places I knew, for fear I would forget them if I didn’t share my memories. Above all, I was intent on knowing where I was. Feeling my gaze on her long black braids, the woman lifted her head and said, “English?”

I beamed and nodded yes. “I’m from Mauritius. And you?”

“It’s quite obvious from the look of it.” She held up the end of her torn yellow saree and waved it like a flag.

“Do you know where we are?” I reflected on my question as soon as I said it because those women seemed like they were taken from their bedroom just like me.

“I wish I did. But I was about to have a shower when I saw one of those guys”—she gestured towards a guard—“standing in my bedroom.”

A Chinese woman who had her hand pressed against the opaque pane since the day we were brought into this cell spoke without turning around. “I-I was taken, from my living room, in the middle of the night. I went for a glass of water.”

“I’m from Nigeria,” said another. “I was taken from the streets. My kids were walking behind me. I pray the Lord they weren’t abducted too.”

“So, none of you remember other details either?” mentioned the woman with a hijab. “The next thing I remember after seeing the man is waking up in chains with you all.”

“Those kidnappings happened at the same time,” said the Indian.

“I open’ed mi eyes for five seconds when I was carri’ed.” We all turned towards the Mancunian accent. “I hea’rd ’em say sumthing. About a lad named Laykh.” We leaned in to hear more but she added, “Dats it loves. I closed mi eyes again.”

Day 19

They let us write.

I don’t know why they let us write on thin sheets of brown rock with ink from crushed leaves and berries. I haven't seen any plants around here. Do they read what we write? I’m tired lately. I don’t want to write. I wish someone freed us already. Or at least told us where we are.

Day 22

By the time the tinted glass turned completely transparent, we saw a group of armed guards, rifles attached to their arms, swords tied to their thighs and black skirts covering only their lower body. Their skin was as pale as the whiteness of the Valley, their face was covered behind a black mask and their eyes sparkled like stars pressed under their eyelids. Their bare chest seemed to have features our human body doesn’t have—with extra layers of muscles and veins covering the gap between their collarbone and shoulder blades. They remained in a robotic trance in front of our cell for very long minutes until the Chinese woman whispered, “The glass pane, it’s down. There’s no cell around us.” Those of us who were sitting got up and looked around. No one dared walk beyond where the cell walls had previously been. Some women stared at the guards, trying to take in their appearance. I stared at the other cages, trying to figure out if there were other captives.

A man walked towards us. He was not dressed like anyone we had seen in the Valley. His clothes seemed so light they floated around his body and we could barely make out his shape underneath them. He could have had eight tentacles and I wouldn’t even notice. His face was also covered with a mask but there was no question of his status. He was the leader and every guard had given him space, a three metre radius, staying clear of the force around him. They were wary of him and the long wisps of cloth floating around, as if scared of what would happen if they were touched by any part of their leader. When the leader’s gaze landed on us, we immediately felt he was a man who assessed us down to our bones.

“Line up for the Laykh,” shouted a guard.

Meanwhile, the leader whom we understood was called the Laykh, whispered to some guards. Then, he glanced back at us, nodded and curtsied elegantly as if we were royalty before he walked away.

When the Laykh had left, one of the guards said, “Let’s play a little game.” So far, the guards were all male, which increased the discomfort among us. Women who were abducted by a group of giant men in a valley that defied the laws of physics couldn’t amount to anything good. “We will have one of you tonight,” he continued. There followed snorts and laughter among the men.

“The real game starts tomorrow but let’s have an ice-breaker.” The guard lifted the Indian’s saree and said, “What you say huh?” She screamed and landed on her large buns, spurring more laughter from the crowd.

One of the guards lifted her and carried her on his broad shoulders. He swung her in the air like a sausage wrapped in her yellow packaging. She landed in the arms of another guard.

“Stop,” we all shouted and screamed, either hiding our faces with our hands or taking a few steps towards the guards.

They let her down in the middle of their circle and one of the guards came forward, chuckling. He bent over her and lifted her chin with his fingers. The sight of his body up close was very disturbing. His fingers almost wriggled independently from his palms. They were not human fingers. They were five worms, each with eyes and a tiny mouth. The worms salivated over the Indian’s chin as the guard said, “Now choose. It’s either me or what’s in that cage.” The group of men applauded, screamed in delight and jumped to get a better view of her expression.

I was shocked by the guards' body, but I looked at the adjacent cage. It was still tinted so that the women couldn’t see what it held but it was enormous enough to scare them. I knew because I had seen the dragon's silhouette before, but I doubt the other women had, being so preoccupied with who our aggressors were that they forgot to pay attention to what was around. I didn’t know how to tell the Indian, and I didn’t think choosing the guard was the best choice either. I was more scared of the other parts hidden behind his cloth than of the dragon. The Indian said bravely, “The cage.” These two words sent the men in ecstasy and the cage, as if triggered by the Indian’s words, had begun to fade away to reveal the most enormous reptile, the dragon with red scales that sparkled under the stars.

The dragon’s scales reminded me of my Mauritian lagoon during sunset, when the water turned to red and shone under the last sunrays. I stood in awe in front of this creature. The reptile roared flames towards the black sky and stomped on the dry land, making the entire dust swirl around us when it opened its wings. It flapped its large pair of wings, set its eyes on heaven and started mounting towards the clouds. A tornado arose from the tip of its tail dragging the dust behind it. But its immediate flight was brought to an abrupt halt when the thick chains around its paws held it in mid-air. It created havoc for minutes as it flailed and churned over the chains, entangling itself in the process. The loud cry of the dragon resonated throughout the Valley and within my bones. The last flap of its wings had been so violently desperate that all the women were thrown against the boulders. My back was pressed against a rock, and I managed to crouch in a foetal position at the foot of the cliff until the guards pulled on the dragon’s chains and caged it back in darkness.

Among the chaos, the Indian woman approached to join our ranks once more. But she was shot in the back and instantly killed by the guard who had asked her to choose.

“By default,” he chuckled.

Day 23

If you read what we write, here’s a message for you: I HOPE YOU ROT AND SUFFER IN HELL UNTIL YOUR FLESH PEELS OFF.

Day 24

All the women were lined up on the left side of the Valley. The guards scuttled to bring everything into place under the scrutiny of the Laykh who stood in a balcony four metres above the dragon’s cage. I observed the walls of the Valley; they were rough, pure white, and approximately fifteen metres in height. The boulders and Valley did not look like nature’s work; instead they felt like the rough walls of a building that wasn’t polished and painted. I was tied to the steep cliff and I pressed my back against it. I knocked thrice behind my back and listened. After five seconds, I heard five knocks come back to me. I jolted from the echo and stepped away from the cliff. At the same time, the guards pulled on our chains and brought us closer to centre.

When the crowd of giant guards moved away to make space in the middle of the Valley, we were shocked to see fourteen men lined up on the other side. They were like us, chained, in ragged shorts and pyjamas, healthy-looking men from different corners of the earth. Among the men I recognised someone from my past. My eyes welled up with tears when I saw the man I had once known as a friend and lover. I had crumbled on my shower floor at 19, with my hopes of marrying him being shattered when he had moved away from Mauritius. He looked well, but I couldn’t keep looking at him anymore, ashamed that my joy would override the true emotions I should have felt as a captive.

When the cage on my right began to fade, my heart sank and the temporary nostalgic joy I had felt completely disappeared. There were captive children. I counted only four teary-eyed little boys and three trembling little girls, all not older than five.

The Nigerian from my cell gasped and ran across the ground. “My baby, my baby,” she kept shouting. One of the guards pulled his gun to aim at her but another kicked her in the legs to trip her. She started crying, “No, why did you bring him too! Why?”

I felt a weight on my shoulders and head. My throat was closing up and I almost couldn’t breathe. I silently prayed, “No, I can’t have a panic attack now. Not now, please God.”

“Stand straight!” shouted one of the guards.

Another masked guard pulled out his gun from under the skin of his biceps and aimed at the Chinese woman from my cell. It hit the boulder next to her but when she flinched, he laughed. He then aimed at one of the boys who had snot and tears all over his brown little face.

The Nigerian mother screamed. The guard pulled the trigger. My legs nearly gave in.

Tak.

The gun wasn’t loaded. He and his comrades laughed, some even rolled in the white dust and held their stomachs as the little boy peed his pants. I felt fear, rage, frustration, disgust and the purest kind of hatred welling up in my chest. These emotions engaged a response I had never knew existed within my body. The tears of this little boy powered up my heart, making every vein throb, pulsate as I felt like picking him up in my arms to hand him to his mother. The guard pulled the child in the middle of their circle and I recognised what he was about to repeat.

“Now, this is gonna get real,” he said in a voice cracking with laughter. He extended his arm and aimed at the child’s forehead. The boy closed his eyes, squeezed his tiny hands in front of him and started sobbing quietly. The mother flailed on the ground, the foot of one guard on her back, keeping her in place so she couldn’t get to her son. Some women started sobbing and fight against their chains, the male prisoners tried to undo theirs too and shouted obscenities at the guards to distract them.

The guards paid no heed. I looked at the Laykh standing from his balcony. I shivered when our eyes met. Had he been looking at me all this time? I figured it was only a coincidence but before I looked away, I glared at him with every ounce of disgust I had for this Valley and its people.

The tumult had not stopped the guard who pushed the boy in front of the dragon’s cage which was already beginning to fade away.

“Now, choose bet—

“WAIT!” I interrupted. “Stop! No, no, no, no. Take me instead!” I screamed those words so loud that they seemed to have echoed in the Valley, even among all that noise. By the time I had uttered them; my feet had automatically dragged me to the centre and lunged me towards the little boy. I hadn’t yet realised that the moment I had said “Take me instead” I had been unchained. I stood between the masked guard and the little boy, and slightly pushed the child. When I looked around, every single guard had their weapons pointed at me. “Take me instead of him,” I repeated.

“Easy,” said the guard. “Either way there’ll be a victim at every dusk. But a volunteer now?” All the guards chuckled or laughed.

I felt the little boy squeeze my hand from behind, and I pushed him slightly further away from me, nudging him towards his mother.

“I won’t give you the opportunity to choose, if you don’t mind,” said the guard. “Since she volunteered, isn’t it right for me to propose something too?” The guards screamed unanimously as he continued, “The starved dragon it is then.”

The dragon’s cage had faded away by the time they placed me in front of it. The guards hid inside the walls of the Valley and the prisoners’ cells were brought up, transparent to witness my death.

The dragon stepped out, only its hind paws chained to the Valley’s walls. It roared angrily and breathed fire onto the walls. The fire ran up the steep cliff, going over the Laykh’s balcony and higher to the sky. It engulfed everything in its path above my head. I crawled on the ground and one of the guards sent a spade and a shield rolling to me. I held the shield in front of me in case the creature decided to roast me. I had no idea what to do next so I just remained on the floor until the monster calmed down. The frustration and defeat from having been brought back to the cage after trying to fly away the other day must have made it go mad. I quietly waited for the roaring to subside but the reptile, well aware of the other cages’ presence and noticing that I was the only lump accessible to tear at, came at me earlier than I expected.

The dragon bit on my shield, keeping it between its teeth and lifting me in the air. I let go as soon as I realised what the creature was doing. I fell on my back and the dragon threw the shield which disappeared over the Valley.

It roared and flapped its wings, creating miniature tornados. I covered my eyes from the dust. I was right under the gigantic reptile. With one paw, it could crush me to death. I looked at it in the sky and couldn’t stop myself from tearing up. In that moment, I thought I wouldn’t mind dying from such a majestic creature rather than from that guard’s gun. When I looked at the dragon, I saw drops of blood under the scales on its paws. The chains were too tight and had been tearing at them. I felt bad for this animal. I got up from the ground, stood against the wind and dust, extended my arm towards the dragon and said, “I’m sorry.” I knew there was no point in my speaking to an animal. So I ran towards the dragon’s cell and used the spade the guard had thrown to unlock its chains. I hit the thick chains, hoping they would break if the creature kept tearing at them too. I kept on hitting them, unaware that some of the guards were running towards me with their guns. I heard the dragon’s roar and its loud thud on the ground. I felt it breathing fire behind my back but I didn’t stop hitting the chains. When I realised that I wasn’t burned or on fire, I turned and saw the dragon’s back against mine. Its tail had circled around my body, defensively. I glanced in the direction the creature faced and saw the charred remains of four guards lying on the ground.

I stopped hitting the chains, conscious that they were made of something I couldn’t easily break. If the dragon’s fire had not consumed them, I doubted my spade would make a difference. I let go and caressed the animal’s paw instead. The blood flowing from its scales bathed my robe in red. The animal grunted and moaned, crouching like a foetus in its mother’s womb. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish I could have done something.”

The dragon’s cell was starting to appear. I remained inside with the animal. But when the guards came out of the Valley’s walls and pointed at the children’s cell, I understood what would happen if I decided to remain with the dragon. So I stepped out before its cage was up.

“Very well,” said the gunman who had pointed at the children. He extended his arm to shoot me. I didn’t flinch. I looked at him, tears in my eyes, rage in my blood. I had lost every ounce of courage that filled my limbs. The gunman clicked his gun and aimed at my forehead to shoot.

Bang.

The gunman fell to the ground. He dropped dead on the white land. At the top of the dragon’s cage, a man next to the Laykh kept back his gun inside his arm. The Laykh nodded at a guard who pulled me by the arm, dragging me to the open space next to the male prisoners. He made me stand at the foot of the steep cliff and I glanced at my old friend who smiled a painful smile. He whispered my name on his lips and it felt good to remember how I was called back home. “Be strong,” he muttered. A door appeared in the wall but before it opened, my eyes were covered with a black cloth and someone lifted me on their shoulders.

**********************************************************************

“It seems like you have a death wish?”

The voice resonated and its roughness sent goose bumps over my body. They removed the bandage over my eyes. I stood in an empty room with black walls and a black floor. The walls and floor were like one huge tile, bent at appropriate angles to form the corners of this room. I stood where I was and didn’t move an inch. I was scared they had placed me somewhere I could fall, the darkness created the illusion of a being in a pit. The guards' laughter echoed in my memories.

“Do you have something to live for?” asked the Laykh.

His voice was surprisingly suave with a crude manliness. I didn’t think his question needed an answer so I remained silent and looked around instead. When I looked back at him, he was so close to my face that I nearly gasped. Long strands of straight hair touched the tips of his black clothes. Everything floated in that three metres radius around him. I was currently in that radius and felt my heart almost dancing out of my chest, but he was careful not to let his clothes, hair or breath touch my cheeks. His irises were yellow and I could see all the veins and capillaries running through the sclera. His face was inches away from mine, urging me to speak. I felt that I would regret if I let this chance slip away.

“It is hard to volunteer,” I said.

“But you know they’ll die anyway.” He smiled, and then added, “After you.”

“No.” I kept my composure, no longer wanting to compromise with someone who had planned to kill us all. “They might not. Tomorrow, you all might be dead instead. I’m just buying them more time until someone comes to free them. I don’t know where we are but our families will never give up on us.” I spoke freely, confident that I was going to die in the next few minutes. Since I knew there was no escape, there was no longer any restraint on my mouth or my body.

“I see,” he said. He kept inching closer. “But still, why aren’t you scared?” He edged closer and took in a deep breath of my hair. “Now? Scared?”

I looked at him, dead in the eyes, and prepared for those to be my last words: “I am. I am very, very scared. I am scared that there is no hell for people like you after death.”

He chuckled but it was not as maniacal as the guards who had laughed at us since our first day here. There was an opening in the room and I guessed it led to the balcony. Like a gentleman, he offered me his hand to hold. When I held it, he seemed surprised, as if he waited for something to happen—which clearly didn’t. He stared at me for a few seconds and then led me to the door. We stepped outside, onto the balcony, and I saw what he saw.

There was the Valley, extending for miles away until it touched the horizon. The land beyond was completely white and covered with dunes like a desert. I could see the cages below us; starting to become opaque when the prisoners were chained. I saw the Nigerian mother cry as her child was snatched away from her. Tears welled up in my eyes and I looked away, at the black sky. I tried to suck back my tears by blinking rapidly but as I looked at the sky, I was so shocked. The wind blew on my face and threw my tears to the ground. My heart started pounding. My breathing became irregular and my chest tightened. I gasped for air as I felt my throat closing. In the black sky, I saw a blue planet I recognised.