Escape- Part 2 of 8
I feel silly posting these short story excerpts if no one is reading them, but I've got nothing else to do right now. It's a rainy Monday, my cats are miserable because they're stuck inside, and I'm blogging to myself. That's about the size of things today.
Reaching around with hands outstretched, he felt the curved walls of the pit surrounding him. Smooth rocks, the size of ripe winter melons, were stacked one atop the other, staggering their way up and around and held in place by decaying mortar that poured from the gaps at his touch like sand through an hourglass. Slivers of whatever littered the hard-packed floor still bore hungrily into his legs and butt. Fighting the dizziness sweeping through his head in waves, he forced himself to stand, the sounds of crunching and breaking beneath him echoing loudly up the shaft like a string of firecrackers.
Shuffling his feet in an attempt to burrow down through the wreckage beneath him to solid ground, he lost his balance and fell sideways against the wall of the pit. His skull erupted in fresh pain, practically begging him to stop this insane idea of righting himself.
Reaching up a trembling hand he felt the gash and the welt along his right temple, he felt the dried blood and the bruised flesh, and he knew that someone had hit him. Most likely the same someone that had thrown him down here.
Pushing himself slowly away from the wall, he re-centered himself in the pit, and that’s when he heard the wail. It drifted down from above, down through the circle of light that was his only escape, and its anguish made him shudder. Another sound followed the first, a blood curdling scream that caused him to cover his ears and duck as if expecting a physical blow. Panic welled within him.
Reaching around with hands outstretched, he felt the curved walls of the pit surrounding him. Smooth rocks, the size of ripe winter melons, were stacked one atop the other, staggering their way up and around and held in place by decaying mortar that poured from the gaps at his touch like sand through an hourglass. Slivers of whatever littered the hard-packed floor still bore hungrily into his legs and butt. Fighting the dizziness sweeping through his head in waves, he forced himself to stand, the sounds of crunching and breaking beneath him echoing loudly up the shaft like a string of firecrackers.
Shuffling his feet in an attempt to burrow down through the wreckage beneath him to solid ground, he lost his balance and fell sideways against the wall of the pit. His skull erupted in fresh pain, practically begging him to stop this insane idea of righting himself.
Reaching up a trembling hand he felt the gash and the welt along his right temple, he felt the dried blood and the bruised flesh, and he knew that someone had hit him. Most likely the same someone that had thrown him down here.
Pushing himself slowly away from the wall, he re-centered himself in the pit, and that’s when he heard the wail. It drifted down from above, down through the circle of light that was his only escape, and its anguish made him shudder. Another sound followed the first, a blood curdling scream that caused him to cover his ears and duck as if expecting a physical blow. Panic welled within him.
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