Eat for Pretty

"Sea troll?" Clair stood shakily to her feet.

"Yes, yes, sea troll is Haf'gifr." The creature grunted, rummaging around in the far corner of the room. He came back with more fish, half-rotted already, pale flesh puckered with fuzzy black mold. "Eat!, eat!"

"I can't eat that!" Clair shuddered, revolted. "It's not even cooked! It's three days old!"

The sea troll grimaced. "So many demands the pretty makes. Like the mother." It threw the fish into the corner.

Clair could here a whining bark, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a half-starved husky pawing furtively for the rotten meat. It had been a beautiful animal once, but now it's fur was matted, and madness rolled its eyes. An open sore on the dog's side swarmed with flies, but it didn't seem to notice. When Clair had first seen it, she'd assumed the husky was dead, so still had it lain.

The sea troll stomped around the cave, making the cage shake. "All I do for the pretties, and they show no respect!" Haf'gifr picked up the cage with the otter, and a moment later the creature that had almost brushed its nose to her hand was flying through the air. The little beast's scream was drowned out by the troll's roar. A moment later it was silenced as the cage and otter impacted the cavern wall, shattering both instantly.

Haf'gifr crouched low over the remains of the otter, picked it up from the wreckage, and started munching away half-heartedly. Blood dripped from his fangs, mixing in long streamers with his saliva.

Clair watched in horrified fascination, too scared even to scream.

Haf'gifr shook his head sadly. "The pretty otter broke. Not so pretty anymore. Only good for food now." He looked slyly out of the corner of his yellow eyes at the girl.

Clair swallowed hard, and closed her eyes. Something about this horrifying creature seemed... familiar. Petty. Small. She could handle this. She'd had lunch with the prime minister of Canada, gone treasure diving in the Caribbean, and hunted bears in Alaska. This wasn't even her first kidnapping, although the previous attempts had been less successful. Her father had taught her what to do in this situation. Everything would be okay.

Claire opened her eyes, and once again the troll was in front of her, watching her silently, the half-eaten carcass of the otter still in his hand. Dad had never prepared her for monsters like this.

Stop it. Everything was going to be fine.

Step 1: be observant. Clair looked around. the cavern was approximately 20 meters in diameter, with convoluted walls that could be hiding openings or escape routes. In any event, even though Clair couldn't see one, their must be a way in and out of the cavern for the troll.

Dozens of animals in cages were arranged around her in two long half-crescents. In the middle of the cavern a series of chests, similar to the one Haf'gifr had upended in front of her, sat neatly stacked. Besides the strange glowing fungi, their was little light. The sound of water lapping against rocks alerted Clair to the presence of water, but she couldn't see where it would be. Far to her left was a large, industrial oven installed into the cavern wall. Other incongruities seemed to leap out at her, now that she was paying attention. the large-screen tv and broken sofa to her right. The red and white t-shirts that made up that large majority of the troll's loincloth.

Step 2: know your captors.
Clair forced herself to look at the thing, the gangly fetid blue-gray horrible troll that had kidnapped her. Haf'gifr was now laboriously replacing each gold or silver coin back in the chest. His massive fingers seemed clumsy in their manipulations, but the look on the troll's face was utter delight as he held a coin close to his face, the glint shining in his eyes, and sniffed it softly, before putting it back in the chest.

"You like treasure?" Clair asked carefully. "Am I being held for ransom?"

"I like my pretties." The troll grinned at her. "These are my pretties." He waved at the coins still on the floor. "Those are my pretties." His hand swept around the room, encompassing the animals in their cages. The gesture ended with Haf'gifr pointing at Clair. "You are my pretty. You must eat, or you will become ugly. When you are ugly I will eat you." The troll burst out laughing, loud, rude guffaws that echoed in the cavern. Abruptly he stopped and returned to counting his coins. "All the living pretties become ugly eventually," he added conversationally.

"Do you like your pretties more, or... eating them?"

"Always I can eat fish, but my pretties make me special. No other sea troll has living pretties like me. No one!"

"If you please," Claire said, "I would like to stay pretty. But I can't eat the food you gave me. Do you have any crackers or chips? Anything cooked? Or even fresh fish would be better." Clair gestured at the fish in her cage. "I'm not strong like you. If I eat these, I would become ugly very fast. But if you give me good food, I can be prettier than all your other pretties combined. And I will stay pretty for a very long time."

The troll regarded her with his beady little eyes. "Yes. The best pretty. Yessss." He stroked the mangled fur of the otter in his hand, and then gulped the rest down and wiped his mouth. For the moment he seemed to forget the rest of the coins on the cavern floor. "What will the pretty eat? What can Haf'gifr get for it?"