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You Are All Nothing But Vile Scum

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An elf child is brought before the Great Leader. She is trembling, staring down at the carpet with hollow eyes. Two large men stand to either side of her, and beyond them, Commander Reaper waits quietly.

The Leader’s intense gaze bores into the child, and feeling it she curls into herself. After an eternal, agonizing moment, he speaks.

“Tell us your story.”

The elven child almost screams, but somehow manages to contain the panic, instead slowly relating the tale of the past few day’s events.

She tells of her home on a place called “World’s Crossing”, a land which has become the new den of the magical insurgency. She knows that things had been changing, but being a child, her knowledge of these changes is limited. All she can tell is that her “mommy” had to go to work and that her “daddy” had started carrying around a rather large gun.

Then she speaks of the horror. The feline man that came and killed. The dark knives that flew through the air. The screaming, the blood, the atrocities of that chill winter night. Hiding in a trunk, terrified, listening to the screams of her friends and family as they were murdered all around her.

By the time she’s done she’s on the floor, shivering, tears streaming from her eyes. The Leader regards her with an icy gaze, then turns to Reaper.

“This shall be the spokesperson of the new PR initiative. Clean it up, feed it, find a handler, then get it on the evening news shows immediately. I want everyone in the galaxy to hear this,” he smirks, “tragic, tragic tale. And I want them to know exactly who ordered it. Daloki Mauvais, leader of the Magical Resistance.” These last words are almost spat, as the guards lift the child up by her arms, and following Commander Reaper, carry her broken, quivering body out the door.

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