Letter from Orcatraz

To Whom it May Concern,

I write you know cause I may not be able to later.
The tone of Orcatraz was different when I got back from the White Owlz game. The place was normally a bustle of monkey mouthed small timers spitting promises about how things will be different once they get back out. Even the lifers had stopped yakin’ about how they caught a bum beef. It was all under the breath mumbles and stares now. As the day when on the mumbles got quieter and the stares got worse. When lights out hit the place was dark enough that I didn’t see the eyes looking at me anymore, I could only feel them now.
Night time in Orcatraz is a strange monster. The air fills itself with primal sounds, grunts and snorts from the different races as they snore in their bunks dreaming of freedoms they may never see again.  But, this night was different. The noise was gone. It was the quietest I’ve experienced here or in the free world. From my solo cell at the top of the stacks I could almost hear the waves slapping against the rocky shores of the island. Then out of the quiet a grinding sound started to grow. I sat up from my bunk to see if I could identify the source.
The moon cast shadows over the still prison. Someplace in the darkness the sound was becoming louder. With a focused eye I could see movement in a cell across the stack. The moonlit bars masked the actions of a large figure hiding within. I stood from my bed and went to the bars to see if I could make out more details. Face pressed against the cold bars I still couldn’t see. But, the figure noticed me looking and stepped forward into the light. It was a grey haired Black Orc, his eyes focused on me. Years had not been kind to him. His green skin had taken a sickly color and he was covered in scares from battles past. His right cheek however had fresh damage, a few horizontal scrapes with a slow stream of blood. Gravity pull the blood down to his lip where his tongue would lick away the crimson pool before to could go further. The Orc had used the wall to sharpen the end of his tusk to a point. He ran his heavy hand along the tusk and seem pleased with his work. Then he spook, “Morg’lil see death. Death chase ya. Morg’lil gon’ see death find ya.” He then backed into the darkness.


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