Days of Slowtree 8, Part 1
March 23, 1915 We made a major discovery today! It was absolutely horrific.
We entered a nearby bunkhouse. It probably housed the workers in this area. There wasn’t much to see in the various bedrooms or the kitchen. The office contained numerous records that spanned twelve years. There was also a journal. Wren read the journal aloud to us. Here are the most important parts of it:
I was one of the Grim Farmers. I am ashamed of what we did. But we had to survive, you know? We were desperate. That does not excuse the atrocities. That is what they are. We committed atrocities. I am writing down the truth. Here is what happened.
Many people chose not to participate in the Day of Surrender. Some people could not bring themselves to end their own lives. Other people could not murder their children. They of course had to stay alive to care for them. Yet other people never gave up hope. I do not know what my ancestors’ reasons were for avoiding Surrender. But they did it and here I am.
This vigorous grasp for hope, this clawing for life… it took us down a very dark path.
The original farmers, the people of Pillarfield alive on the Day of Surrender, formed a plan. The Day was long in coming and they had plenty of time to figure out what to do. I just want to say that they did not call themselves farmers yet. The farming had not begun. But that is what we became. Grim Farmers.
When the day arrived, they executed their plan. The victims were decided long before the Day. The farmers broke into their targeted homes. They seized the poison and kidnapped the families. They were brought to secure locations and imprisoned. There was no one left to save them. Everyone that opposed the farmers were now dying in their beds.
The victims were kept alive. Their flesh was slowly cut from their bodies. Still they survived. They were force fed their own meat to avoid starvation. Our hope for survival was rooted in cannibalism. It was the only way.
Years passed. These two groups of people lived separately. The Grim Farmers were free to live and work in Pillarfield. The Herd was bred in captivity. This subclass of people existed only to feed the Grim Farmers. The people of the Herd were treated like animals. They were forced to breed through violence and rape.
This brings my tale to the present day. It happened so suddenly. But I witnessed it. Please believe my story. It is true. If you have somehow found this journal… you need to flee. Run from the Wraiths! You cannot defeat them. They are horrid! They devour the senses. I saw them kill everyone that I knew. But I digress.
I was among the cages this morning. Suddenly, the air itself became heavy. My ears felt like they do when I would go swimming in the river. Everyone in the room was immediately pushed to the floor as if a giant had stepped on us. Both Farmers and Herd were bowed under this intense weight.
The scent of wine and roasted meat and vegetables filled the room. We all cried out in ecstatic desire for these things that we had been denied for so long. I looked for the source of the scent and saw the air unfold like a curtain. A man stepped through the space and looked at us. The sounds of revelry and feasting followed him into the room.
He addressed the Herd, “I am the Lord of Feasts. I have heard your prayers. I am here to deliver you from your captors. Actually, I will teach you to free yourselves. I have arcane secrets that no soul knows. The other Children do not know such secrets as these. Are you not intrigued? Imagine knowing something that the gods do not know.”
“This secret will transform you. With this secret you will transcend the bounds of the Living World. With this secret, you shall merge with the Confines! With this secret, you will have your freedom. You will have vengeance. Will you hearken now to my teachings? Will you learn the secret?”
The Herd said that they wanted their freedom and revenge. The Lord of Feasts told them that they would implant their souls within the Confines, the curtain separating the Living World from the other Realms. They would be free of their restraints, but they would no longer be members of the world. They would be free from physical torment, but they could still touch the physical world. They would become Wraiths, a foe unconquerable, a foe untouchable, a foe so mighty that their enemies could no longer fight back.
The Herd agreed to do as he said. He whispered something that only they could hear. I watched as their bodies faded from the world and became translucent. I could see roiling mists and crashing waves of arcane colors within their forms. They slipped through their cages and danced in joy.
The Lord of Feasts turned to face me. Never have I been so terrified. My eyes met those of a god and I was cowed. I pressed my face to the floor. He approached me and gently lifted my head. His eyes locked upon mine. He winked and chuckled, “Your time has come to an end. Save your prayers. The Children are not listening to you.”
The Lord of Feats vanished. I fled the warehouse. I saw Farmers running down the street from the other warehouses. The Herd kept in those buildings must have turned as well. Wraiths ran those people down and grasped their bodies. They screamed and went limp.
I managed to escape. All of the Wraiths were busy with the other Grim Farmers. I circled around and came back to the warehouse that I worked in. The Herd that I tended were gone. I entered the office and wrote this tale. I do not expect to live long. The gods have forsaken us. I have no hope.
We Grim Farmers are finally reaping what we had sown. We bought ourselves a few years at the cost of our humanity and the suffering of others. I fear that the Wraiths will soon find me. I hope this record is found someday. Avoid Pillarfield! It is a city of Wraiths and woe!