Alright, here's my first attempt at a first page for this story. If it sucks, then don't be shy and tell me so.
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“Almighty, hear my plea. Take my burdens from me and I will follow in thy way for-”
The crack of a whip sounds throughout the dusty air, and an exclamation of pain is heard throughout the mine. You don’t bat an eye. You don’t even look away from the rocky wall in front of you. Instead you raise your pickaxe above your head, and thrust it into the wall once more.
“Almighty, hear my plea,” the voice starts up once again, but with it comes the dreaded sound of the whip.
Out of the corner of your eye you see the slave to your left, a man nearly double your height, stop working and turn to the sound of the voice.
“Almighty-” he doesn’t get very far this time before the man feels the sting of the whip on his back. With this third interruption your focus is shattered, and you turn solemnly to the cause of it.
An older man with greying hair and wrinkles enough for five people lies on the rugged cave floor just a few measly feet away from you. Your overseer, a bald man by the name of Mordo, stands over the man’s bruised body with his whip at the ready and a sneer on his scarred face.
Not only you, but several others have stopped working in order to see what the commotion is about. Seeing that he has an audience now, Mordo grins and brings his whip down on the old man’s back. “What were you saying, slave?”
The old man brings his face off the ground to look at his fellow slaves, and eventually his eyes turn to you. It’s hard to see clearly with just torchlight guiding your gaze, but you think a smile graces his worn face.
“Almighty, hear my pl-” you guess Mordo was expecting the old man to give up, because he was a tad late to use his whip this time.
“Your God doesn’t care about scum like you,” Mordo spits out as he brings his whip down. “If he did, you wouldn’t be down here, now would you?” He brings his whip down again, as he continues berating the old man.
After a moment it becomes too much for you and you turn away. There’s nothing you can do to help him anyway. You sigh as you bring your pickaxe over your head, but before you can bring it down you hear a shout a little farther along the cave.
“Luna! I struck luna!” A younger man you don’t recognize comes hobbling down the cave like tunnel to your right. The chains around his hands and legs clang together loudly as he makes his way. A long moment later he stands before Mordo and the bruised old man.
“Master,” he starts addressing Mordo, “do you have an extractor with you here? Ours was killed in…” the man pauses for a moment as if in thought, “...an unfortunate accident.”
Luna, in its untampered state was very volatile, and if it wasn’t extracted correctly, then it was prone to exploding. You immediately stop what you’re doing and walk over to the trio. Despite your young age, you have very steady hands making you a prime candidate for extracting luna. Mordo saw this and made you the official extractor of his division.
“That would be m-” you start to say, but before you can finish you feel the Mordo’s hand smack you across the face. You’re sent tumbling to the ground, but after a silent, solemn moment you stand back up.
Mordo glares at you, and you get his message. Don’t say anything. He eyes seemed to say, but he actually says something different. “What were you saying, boy?”
You look away from his hard glare and to the rocky ground beneath you. “Nothing master.”
“Are you sure?” Mordo pushes you, but you’ve learned your lesson.
“Yes master.”
Mordo nods, then turns back to the slave that struck luna. “Yes I do.” Mordo sends his foot flying into the ribs of the old man lying on the ground. “This one will do just fine. Get up slave.”
The old man on the ground struggles to stand up, but after a moment of trying at it he does. “Now go extract the luna,” Mordo commands the old man and points down the tunnel the eager slave came from.
The old man, despite resisting Mordo before, gives in now and stumbles after the other slave. You watch as he walks away, and you can’t help but feel a sense of dread as you watch him go. Though the torchlight doesn’t do much for you, you can still see his old, wrinkled hands shaking.
With this image in your mind, you make your decision. There was no way you were going to allow this man to mishandle some luna and collapse the mine. You turn to Mordo and whisper, “He’s going to blow us sky high, Master.”
None of the other slaves hear what you said, but they hear and see as Mordo sends another of his fists into your face. You’re sent flying back to the rough ground, but before you can get up Mordo crouches down and whispers to you, “Oh yeah? If you’re that sure, then you can go join him!”
He waits until you’ve stood back up, then sends his boot into your backside. You endure it, for you know Mordo. The sadistic freak enjoyed inflicting pain as much as possible. The more someone struggles, the more Mordo hurts them. It was why he was sending the old man down there in the first place. If he’s o intent on relying on the Almighty, then let the Almighty save him from the luna explosion, Mordo’s actions seemed to say.
You don’t know what you think about the Almighty, but you do know two things. One: That Mordo was a petty fool. Two: that you were not going allow yourself to be killed by such a fool.
With a sigh and a wince you head after the old man.