Savior in Shadow Slave

[THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME SCENES THAT MAYBE UNSETTLING TO SOME READERS. SO READ AT YOUR RISK.]

Pain. Sharp. Deep. Over and over.

Murphy's body convulsed with every contraction, but she no longer screamed. Her voice had been taken by hours of labor, swallowed by exhaustion. What remained was breathless sobbing—dry and hollow, like wind scraping through a long-forgotten hallway.

She barely remembered who she was anymore.

Was she still Murphy?

She seemed to recall being eaten by something... Or was she chained, tortured until death? Didn't she once die beside her dead wife's grave? Or was she stabbed by her own brother?

She was a (fe)male. Or was she?

She didn't quite remember anything clearly.

Feeling a heavy weight on her stomach, she looked down and remembered—she was pregnant. So why the confusion? She was obviously a female… right?

Unsettled by this understanding, Murphy looked around, trying to focus on something else.

The room seemed familiar—her manor. Pale lights flickered above. The window overlooked a wild garden she had tended with her own hands. Hushed voices murmured nearby. Her stomach ached. Her body trembled. Her thoughts were scattered like ashes in the wind.

"Stay with me," a voice whispered.

It was Kale—her husband. He held her hand like it was the only thing tethering her to life. His other hand trembled on the edge of the bed.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She wanted to say something. Anything. But words were lost in the fog pressing against her thoughts. Her chest ached. Her lips were dry. Her eyes burned.

The midwife checked her vitals while an Ascended with a healing Aspect stood nearby, concern darkening his face.

"She's losing too much," the Ascended said quietly. "We need to move fast."

She could feel herself slipping. The warmth in her limbs was fading. She blinked and saw flashes:

A swing set in the evening sun.

The porch light of her childhood home.

The moment Kale first touched her belly and whispered, "I can't wait to meet them."

I want to meet them too...

Her back arched. A scream caught in her throat.

One final push.

Then—

A cry.

A soft, beautiful, living cry.

The babies were here.

A girl and a boy.

They were wrapped in warm blankets, cheeks flushed, mouths open wide with life. Their cries sliced through the stillness like hope itself.

But Murphy couldn't hold them.

Her arms wouldn't move.

She looked at Kale. He was smiling through tears, holding their children like the world had given him everything.

Murphy smiled too.

Weak. Small. Fading.

"I hope she laughs like you," she mouthed.

"I hope he's brave like you," he replied.

Her chest tightened. Her heart slowed.

And in that quiet, just before the Ascended raised the alarm—

She felt peace.

When the midwife checked a few minutes later, Murphy was gone.

Still and pale. But calm. A quiet smile on her lips.

Kale didn't speak for a long time. He just held their son and daughter close, pressing them gently to Murphy's chest one last time.

And so, Murphy died for 501,317th time—during childbirth.

Not as a sacrifice. Not as a martyr. Not as a prisoner.

Just as a mother who loved too much, and gave everything she had left.

It was a quiet, beautiful death.

One that gave someone else a beginning.

***

Her(his?) hands were bound above her(his?) head, wrists already raw from the ropes. The stake behind her(his?) dug into her(his?) spine, charred black from those who had come before. (S)he was tied to a structure crafted from the tooth of some unknown beast. (S)he was naked. Her(his?) legs were split open exposing her(his?) everything. Her(his?) entire was being exposed as if wanting to kill her(his?) from embarrassment alone.

Murphy would have really died from embarrassment had she not been raped by Torturers for nine straight days before.

She could sense every man's heated gazes as if wanting to humiliate her, rape her and ravage her.

Surprisingly or unsurprisingly, there was no women around and almost every man had something bulging in their private area.

Considering 1st Elder's group was a group of hyenas who go around plunder and rape women village to village. 

'And I am their Trophy that they have won and saved till they found a place to settle.'

She could tell what they were feeling because she once was...

This thought was interrupted before it was even finished because of a thunderous voice of Head elder. 1st Head elder, Shepherd.

"My cohort who are like my Family. I know you have been patiently waiting to get their hands on this Trophy. Don't you ?"

""YES!!!""

"So now, let the conceiving festival began!!!"

""YAY!!""

A cacophony of heated and joyful voice resounded throughout the town. A hundred or so men rushed towards her without hiding their bestial desires.

After that every man had sex with her without her context. Whenever she got exhausted, Head elder would use his healing aspect and renew her energy.

Even after she got pregnant for the first time, it continued for 8 months and a miscarriage happened. When that happened she was broken and her eyes were lost.

Even after that happened, she continued to be ravaged and she couldn't even die as Her Flaw prevented her from dying. As it literally made her immortal, in flesh at least. But for some reason her wounds were closing slowly as if interfered by something.

After decades had passed while she was being raped. She had already conceived a child with every man, but Murph couldn't quite believe what she saw...

Fathers were raping their daughters and Mothers were raping their sons.

As if she had become old and exchangeable...

'WHY!! WHY!! These whores for the daughters were taking what's her away.'

It was a disturbing. Not the scenes of what the parent's were doing with their children. But the thoughts of the hanged women.

Slowly time kept on passing and centuries had already passed.

It had already been 200 years since she was trapped and followed her daily routine of hanged, raped, brought down, healed, raped and healed again. After sometime, she would get pregnant. Sometimes the child would be born. Sometimes the child would die. She couldn't even remember her life before being trapped here.

The only one who appeared and talked to her every day was: Griesha, the future Head Elder. The child born between her and Shepherd. The one who will later achieve Supremacy.

Unlike her other children, Griesha and his five friends never touched her.

She liked talking to them but also find something lacking. She wanted to have their taste.

Then, suddenly one day, Shepherd appeared and announced that Witch should be destroyed and decided to burn her alive.

Weirdly, what she felt was not solace but anger. Such an extreme and boiling anger as if someone has taken her away from her children and husbands. Something that she loved.

And so, she was burned.

Pain. Hot. Blinding. All-consuming.

The fire screamed louder than Murphy ever could.

Flames licked at her legs first—skin blistering, muscle cracking, nerves alight with agony. Smoke filled her lungs like molten glass. Her throat tore open from the screaming, but she couldn't hear herself anymore. Only the roar of the pyre and the cries of the crowd.

They chanted:

"Witch!"

"Heretic!"

"Burn her!"

She couldn't accept it. She couldn't accept being thrown away by the ones she loved.

What she couldn't understand was that the ones she loved only saw her as tool for satisfaction.

So, she finally gave into the corruption and was reborn as a Terror.

And so, Murphy died for the 1,337,424th time—burned alive as a witch.

But not before cursing them.

Not before leaving behind something that would never burn.

Not before turning her death into a TERROR.

***

Murphy kept on living—and dying—millions of times.

Sometimes he was a woman. Sometimes she was a man.

Sometimes a bug crushed beneath a human's foot. Sometimes a human crushing a bug beneath his own.

Sometimes a maiden ravaged by beasts. Sometimes a beast ravaging a woman.

Sometimes the betrayer. Sometimes the betrayed.

Any human would have completely lost themselves in the labyrinth of life and death.

Murphy would have, too—

Had it not been for his fourth Attribute.

An Attribute he could never see.

One that either vanished the moment he tried to observe it…

Or was being deleted the instant it registered in his brain.