This was a writing prompt we had at Write On writing group. This is still very rough but could turn into something. It did remind me of a project I had been working on earlier. This was also a test to make sure I could still write in first person. Enjoy.
I used to feel fate was a myth. Some divine beings dropping breadcrumbs or boulders to guide you where you should be. If I had a moment alone with this entity, I would have some questions. The first would start off with why had their path led me to be shackled in this dungeon. It wasn’t like I wanted to steal that map from the Pharaoh. I had to. Why did I have to? Those same beings helped me rack up a debt that required me to take on such a job.
These wouldn’t be my final moments. They never were. Broken bones, bleeding out, under the influence of spells, yet my fate was to press on somehow. I searched the pantheon and settled on Set to be my guardian angel. You take what you are given and I run with all the lessons he had taught me. One of the ones I was not too fond of was how to escape such predicaments.
The scars on my body came in handy in so many ways. They came from a rough childhood into an even rougher adulthood. One trick was to hide a piece of metal below the skin. It had come in handy more than once and it was time for it to be used again. I cursed Set silently and promised he would want to keep watching. I lifted my legs up a bit, the soreness from the mornings having faded enough this evening for me to attempt an escape. The rest of my body followed as I brought my teeth to my forearm.
It was always hard to inflict pain on myself. The bite was calculated and I ripped back. Several layers of skin came with my lock pick in my teeth. I took a few heavy breaths before lifting my body higher. My fingers grasped the metal piece and I let all the tension out of my body except for those digits. I worked at the shackles, not thinking of the pain in my arm.
A faint click signaled victory. I dropped my arm and shook it out. A few splatters of blood soaked into the sand. My composure came back quickly as I switched hands and started to break free of the jail altogether. Another click and I let my body go limp on the ground. I had not known a time where I was not exhausted. This ranked in the middle somewhere from my daily pain to the worst I ever felt.
I stood up. It was more of a shamble, but it got me to my feet. The first step of freedom felt good. The second reminded me I had one more door to go through and some sneaking until I truly could celebrate. I stopped. A sound caught me that was not groaning or snoring of other prisoners. I embraced the sounds and listened. It came again, a shuffling. Someone did not want to be heard or seen down here. I found the nearest wall and tried to blend in.
It got closer at a slow pace. I imagined a scenario where I was the one this person was looking for. If that was the case, I wouldn’t want them to find me. I had made more enemies than friends in my time.
A hooded figure entered my view. They turned their veiled face to the cell and stared at me. My heart sunk.
“Hasa, I have come to free you.” The voice was familiar. It had a soft tone that I had not heard in a while. The image of who it was didn’t match the height of who stood there now. I still saw her as a child in my mind. A cousin’s daughter who I had not seen in years. The light revealed a much older girl under the hood of her covering.
“Lura?”
“Yes, we haven’t much time.” Her hands felt under the cloak she wore and came out with a key ring. She worked at the door and unlatched it. “Hasa, what did you do to your arm?”
I chalked my freedom up to those divine beings. It was a blessing and a dirty trick all at once. I shook my head and cursed Set once more.
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