Fortnightly Writing Competition: Impossible Escape. RESULTS

[Baron]

Welcome to this fortnight's writing competition.  The theme this time around is...

Impossible Escape!

Your story must have a protagonist that is trying to escape from some sort of confinement, or maybe just a sticky situation.  It does not matter whether your protagonist succeeds or not.  Mr. Protagonist could be a person escaping a prison, or a chicken escaping an egg factory, or a kid escaping detention at school, or a sock escaping the odour of Ponch's left foot ( ) -as long as there's an escape attempt, it works for me.

This competition runs from now until midnight EDT on June 21.  I look forward to some thrilling entries!

TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!
Edit: Forgot to change topic title (I had something else in mind when I started out.....

[Ponch]

I'm in!

[Ghost]

"So, found a way out yet?"

I shot the scruffy man a look that I hoped looked cool and aloof and a lot of other things he'd probably have to look up in a dictionary. Though I had to agree, things did not look too well. I wriggled my hands, going through the motions almost on autopilot.

"Not yet", I said, counting on my calm baritone to make sure how I was totally in control of the situation.

"You've been at it a while now", said the man.

I had been very exited when my secretary told me of the big gala. Everyone would be there, she said, the upper crust's elite's Top Ten, people who rolled in money and fame. A well-known but recently unlucky stage magician could get a lot out of such an event. It was well paid, but I was more interested in showing my skills to people who craved entertainment and wouldn't have to think twice if they could affort hiring me a second time. I missed the old days where every night I would baffle the masses by pulling women out of my rabbit's top hat, set myself on fire and calmly proceed to tap-dance on a needle. My stage name, Elminster, borrowed from an old D&D sourcebook, was a synonym for "over-the-top, masterful, physically impossible, actual MAGIC".

There was no real magic though, only skill. And now I'd need it all.

"Your portfolio", the scruffy man said, waving it, "says you can escape every trap by means of your powerful magicks."

"True", I nodded, "But I have to admit this setup is rather challenging." That was mere flattery, especially since I commented on my own design. And even a stage-hand
knows how to prepare for the old escape-the-straitjacket shenanigan. I merely spoke to cover the soft creak as I dislodged my shoulders. The pain was hardly worth speaking of; I'd done it so often that it registered only as a small "ready for the next step" signal.

"Are there many powerful magicians like yourself?", asked the man. I never got his name. He and a couple of similarly scruffy people- come to think of it, they'd all
looked as if they were brothers or at least closely related- had attacked me just as I had entered the mansion, knocked me out cold. When I had woken up I'd been put into my famous "Inescapable" setup. Glass pool of acid, ready to be set on fire, a thick metal pole with a small platform from which I could dangle, suited up in an actual straitjacket, not one of these rigged affairs my fellow stage magicians prefer, and wrapped in several pounds of solid iron chain.
Classic. Always a cloud pleaser, the escape-trick. I had intended to end my show with it.

"WE are powerful, too", said the man.

"Look, really, what IS your name?", I snapped. He paused, then shrugged.

"Might as well tell you", he said, "My name's Ul'drey-A-CháRamalamadingdong The Shade Of This-Very-Special-Green-You-Get-When-Only-Half-In-The-Dark. I am an alien wizard from another dimension."

I didn't hesitate to laugh. He scowled.

"We are here to test how strong the magicks of your world are."

I laughed some more, almost forgetting to proceed to slip my arms out of their sleeves.

"We kidnapped you, the most powerful magician of this world, and if we find you can't even escape your own magical traps of magical cotton, which is far more durable than
any material of our world, we KNOW it's perfectly safe to conquer your planet Earth." He cackled.

Something started to tick. Ah, right. The mechanism that held me in place over the acid WAS on a timer, and in... three minutes... it would pull in the bolts and I would drop. I tried to ignore the "alien wizard's" gleeful sneers and focussed on retrieving the skeleton key that was hidden in my left sock.

"You don't believe me?" He made a flamboyant gesture.

Then, to my surprise, I fell. This was not supposed to happen, but it did happen. To be fair, there was hardly any pain, only the tiny regret that I had always insisted on using real acid.

--

Ul'drey-A-CháRamalamadingdong The Shade Of This-Very-Special-Green-You-Get-When-Only-Half-In-The-Dark bowed before his brothers.

"This world is ours for the taking", he said, satisfied, "The masterful Elminster was clearly a bluff. He died in his own trap and his magicks could not safe him. All it took was stealing his time, which is a simple spell."

"What about the cotton?", asked his oldest brother, whose name was in the ultraviolet spectrum and smelled of spiders in the rain.

"It IS powerful", Ul'drey-A-CháRamalamadingdong The Shade Of This-Very-Special-Green-You-Get-When-Only-Half-In-The-Dark admitted, "But it merely shows how decadent this world is. They are using it for clothing, can you imagine? The riches they waste!"

"These will be our riches!", said another brother who was actually a sister and thus had no pronouncable name, "Let's have this world!"

"Yes", they all agreed, "But first, let us drop the adamantium robes we are always wearing, and let us don human cotton to protect us better!"

They did.

--

Silent, deadly, and clad in Iron Maiden t-shirts, the magical wizard aliens from another dimension headed towards Bruce Manor.

[edit]
Properly formatted now!

[Adeel]

It seems that you won the previous competition Baron, congratulations. You chose a great topic this time. This is the topic which, I think I can pull off easily. Count me in.

[Baron]

  Entries already!  Aw yeah!  Keep 'em coming, folks!  Ra-Ra-Ra!  Start stacking words on that killer idea of yours and see what comes of it!

[Atelier]

My [unfinished] story from last time fits this theme too! Would I be allowed to enter it? Or does it have to be completely new?

[Baron]

My [unfinished] story from last time fits this theme too! Would I be allowed to enter it? Or does it have to be completely new?

Seriously?  Well, ask any jaded literary critic or even Ponch and they'll tell you that there's been nothing completely new in literary circles since Herman Melville jumped the shark with Pierre, or, The Ambiguities .  I guess if it's unfinished, unpublished and suits the theme, I don't have a problem with it.

[Sinitrena]

Long post ahead...

Truth!

“I heard someone was stupid enough to try to steal from the Seeing One once, broke into his temple and everything â€" what a fool! - He was caught, of course.”

I looked up from my mug of beer. I had no idea what the people two tables over were actually talking about, but a thief who had tried to nick something from the Seeing One, the God of Law and Justice, was certainly worth my attention.

“I don't think he was caught.”, his more sober companion said to the first man. “This old medallion â€" what was it called again? The Symbol of Truth? - did disappear together with a chest full of old coins.”

“Coins with the portrait of king Jamis II. The last coins with his face because they were melted down when Kajos III took the throne from him five hundred years ago â€" but because these coins were sacrifices the new king couldn't destroy them.”, a third man said, “But they are worthless for the thief â€" everybody would know immediately where they came from!”

“But he still was caught!”, the first man nearly shouted.

“Oh, that he was.”, I said.

I had walked over to their table while they were discussing money â€" a very interesting topic for me.
This evening was turning out better than I had expected what with the wedding of my sister â€" to which I was not invited, I might add.

“And then he escaped.”, I continued.

“Oh, really? How so?”, the drunkard asked in a mocking and a bit aggressive way.

“I'll tell you all about it â€" for a pint. Or more like, four or five pints.” - I was an honest guy, after all, more or less.

“You will, will you? And how do you know about this?” The laughed.

I smiled â€" probably the only real smile from me they would see all night. “Because my name is Lomin Tribent.”

That made them stop. That made them look up and, I guess, it sobered them up a bit, too. I did have a certain reputation, after all.

“So, you are the famous priest of the Silent One?”, the second guy asked, looking me up and down. Granted, I didn't look like a notorious and quite successful thief at this moment, but I wasn't dressed to impress. I was dressed to blend in, so that I could drown my sorrow in peace. Then again, boasting about my past escapades was way more fun â€" and it let me forget my sister's wedding. Her future husband didn't exactly like having a thief in the family.

“That I am.”

“Yeah, sure. Can you prove it?”

“Sure can. I'll simply tell you how I stole the Symbol of Truth from the temple of the Seeing One. You only need to pay for my drinks tonight.”

They weren't buying it. They didn't believe a famous thief would just walk up to them in a crowded tavern and announce who he is. There was this little problem with guards and the law, after all. Then again: “You don't really have anything to lose, have you? What are a few beers to you? - And you get a great story in return. Whether I really am who I say I am isn't really important, is it?”

They looked at each other, then shrugged. I sat down, signalling the barkeep for a new mug after draining the rest of my first one.

“So, Lomin, I'm Mitell”, said the most sober guy, “these are Portem”, he indicated the drunkard, “and Semt.”, he nodded at the third man. “Now, tell us how you broke into the temple of the Seeing One.”

I took a hearty draught from the beer the waitress had sat in front of me and wiped the foam from my mouth before I put my elbows on the table and looked them in the eyes, one after another. Maybe I did let a bit of the real me slip into my expression... They shuddered.

“I like to boast.”, I said with the air of someone joking. This was actually true, as you might have noticed, but who cares? “And I happened to boast about my skills to some of my colleagues...”

“Colleagues?”, Semt asked.

“Other priests of the Silent One.” I didn't especially like being interrupted because I wanted to grasp my audience right from the start, but, then again, I did want them to understand what I was saying.

“As I was saying...”

“Yeah, sure.”, I was interrupted again, this time by Portem, the drunkard, “As if a priest of the Silent One would just tell us that he is a priest. Come on!”

Granted, my religion was forbidden, my order banned from the land â€" old laws. No-one worshipping the God of Thieves and Liars admitted freely to his believes.

“Well, I did tell you that I am Lomin Tribent, the famous and very much wanted thief â€" and known priest of the Silent One. And it's not as if you would remember anything of this night later on.” I would make sure of that. But they were already drunk and kept on drinking, so that they didn't even realize what I just told them.

“Anyway, do you mind if I continue my story now? You did want to hear it, didn't you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Go on.”

“We're listening.”

“As I was saying: I was boasting about my skills to some of my colleagues. I am the best thief there is. Even though all priest of the Silent One can get help from our God, there are still different levels of skill within my order. I guess they didn't exactly believe how awesome I really am.” Yeah, I know, I shouldn't praise myself like that, but then again, I am awesome. “So I asked them: What is the one thing nobody would ever dare steal, no-one could ever steal, belonging to someone not even a priest of the silence would want to antagonize? They thought for a moment. They discussed my question among themselves and then they offered me the challenge I knew they would come up with: Go to the temple of the Seeing One, the God of Law and Justice, located at the market-place in the capital city of our realm. Go there and enter the chamber of sacrifices where the gold and jewellery offered to the God are kept and where the Symbol of Truth, the most powerful symbol of the Seeing One is stored when the king doesn't have it with him to speak justice. Go there and take this symbol, then leave the temple and bring it back to us, so we may offer it to the Silent One, the God of Thieves and Liars, so that it may be kept in our chamber of sacrifices to honour our God and protector. You do this and we proclaim you, Lomin Tribent, the best thief of the world and the first high-priest of the Silent One for three hundred years.”

I had the attention of the three men at the table now. I slipped a bit of forgetting draught, one of my most useful weapons in Mitell's drink. It wouldn't hurt him and he wouldn't forget this night completely but it would make his memory fuzzy. That was the main reason for this part of the story: to give me an opportunity to poison my audience. I was just having a bit of fun. I didn't want to get arrested. Of course, I never talked about this burglary with any other priest beforehand â€" that's just not the way we work. But they did make me a high-priest â€" not the first for three hundred years, there are more of us â€" for bringing the Symbol of Truth to our temple.

“So I began my quest for the Symbol of Truth. I came to this great city and looked upon the great temple of the great God and I was greatly impressed.”

I guess they finally realized the sarcasm in my voice because they laughed â€" nervously. Mocking the Seeing One was something they would never dare do. I used their nervousness to slip a bit of draught in Semt's mug. This evening really did turn out better than I had expected.

“Anyway”, I said, laughing as well, “the temple of the Seeing One is pretty impressive when you see it for the first time. And for a thief the guards on all the entrances and in the inside are rather discouraging. As someone once said: If you want to keep something safe, I say hire a guard... And I tend to agree. Locks can't keep a thief out, they can just slow him down, dogs might be frightening but they can be tamed and outwitted. Guards could see you, especially if they are strategically positioned and alert. But you should pay them well: after all, a determined thief might be willing to pay a lot of money if the loot is worth it.”

That got me some outraged looks from my friends. Time for the third bit of forgetting draught, this time in Portem's glass.

“Oh, don't look at me like that. I didn't bribe a guard. Neither did I poison one. Neither was necessary. I simply entered the temple during the day like any other worshipper. As a matter of fact, I witnessed the festival of justice that day, where the king held court in the temple and where he kissed the symbol before it was brought back to the chamber of sacrifices. As you might know â€" you should know this, you can visit the temple every day, after all â€" there are little alcoves next to the walls of the temple in the hall of worship. These alcoves have a ceiling and a balustrade around the ceiling. As a matter of fact, it's nearly impossible to design a better hiding place if you wanted to. And apparently no-one checks the ceilings before they close the temple for the night. Granted, it wasn't exactly easy to climb up there with the temple full of people, but I did manage.”

“How?”, Semt asked.

The truth is, I used one of my little tricks that only the priests of the Silent One know about: a little capsule filled with my forgetting draught combined with a powder that makes people a bit dizzy thrown on the ground, was a rather good distraction and enough when used at the right moment. The right moment was:

”When the king left the hall all eyes were following him. I climbed the inside of the alcove at that moment and slipped through the curtain at the entrance to the ceiling. It was actually pretty easy.” It was difficult and risky and one of my stupid ideas. Even with my little capsule it was dangerous. I nearly got caught at this moment, but I wasn't, so why mention it? You might notice that I didn't exactly have a solid plan. I wasn't even sure whether they would check the ceiling or not.

“I waited for nightfall but not for the arrival of the guards. It's just a few seconds, but after the priests leave and before the guards enter there's a small window of opportunity. I jumped down from the alcove and downright ran to the door to the inner sanctum, before the high-priest had closed the exterior door completely. The door was locked, of course, but as I already said: a lock can't really keep a thief out. I had the door open in less than a minute and was through long before the guards started their patrols in the hall. You probably never saw this part of the temple, of any temple, so let me describe it to you: There's a short hallway with doors to the left and right that lead to some offices for the priests, but I was interested in the door at the far end, that leads to the chamber of sacrifices. This door was locked, too, and the hallway was dark, but who cares about such small inconveniences? I was in the chamber less than two minutes later. On the walls of the chamber are shelves with chests filled with gold and silver, jewellery and other valuables. In the middle of the chamber are a few steps that lead up to a pedestal on which the symbol is kept â€" presented for a thief to take.”

“You made this sound pretty easy.”, one of my listeners said. I didn't really care which one.

“Oh, it was.”, I said. That was actually true. Up to this point this burglary was very easy. But you might have noticed the catch: How was I going to escape? There were guards at the door by now and then there was this other thing:

“I walked up to the symbol and took it. - And that was the mistake I made this night and probably the biggest mistake I ever made: The moment I took the symbol, walls fell down from above, essentially locking me in!”

My audience gasped. For some reason they were rooting for me to be successful by now. These nice, law-abiding citizens wanted a thief to triumph.

“You see, there actually was a door in this new wall but it was locked. As I said before, a lock is no difficulty for me. - But the problem with locks is, that you need access to the mechanism to enter your lock-picks and someone actually knew what he was doing when he design that trap. As I said when I began my little story: The thief that stole the Symbol of Truth was caught.”

“But you didn't!”, Semt exclaimed. I noticed with some pleasure that he didn't doubt any longer that I was a thief who broke into the temple of the Seeing One.

“Huh?”, I asked, even though I knew exactly what he meant.

“You didn't steal the symbol. You broke into the temple and you were caught. The symbol never left the temple!”


“Oh, it did.” I smiled. “I escaped despite the trap and the guards and the fact that it took me a few days and I therefore was seen by some priests and some guards and the king.”

“Liar! The symbol's still in the temple!”

“No, not still, again. After I escaped with the symbol and a small chest of gold, I just showed the symbol to my order, then I broke into the castle of the king and his bedchamber and we talked a bit and I gave the symbol back. I kept the chest of gold.” All of this was true. I had no real interest in the symbol, I just wanted to prove that I could steal it. I had a few nice conversations with the king while I was trapped in the chamber of sacrifices and later in his bedchamber â€" I might have mentioned my sister. How do you think I got my reputation? I'm the thief who is friends with a king!

“Liar!”, he said again.

“Well, yes, I am a liar. What did you expect? I am a priest of the God of Thieves and Liars! But what I just told you is all true.” Not all of it, but who cares about these details?

“All right then. How did you escape? You were locked in a trap, surrounded by guards who now  knew your face, with no way to reach the lock. How did you escape?”

“Well, first of all, I am an infamous thief and no-one dared go near me. No-one dared bring me to the dungeons. You see, They had caught me, but I still had all my little tricks, all the secrets of my profession. Part of the wall had a barred window so they could see me and give me water and bread, talk to me, but they couldn't get near me without opening the door, without allowing me to get near them. You know, I am a priest of the Silent One and like all Gods, even the God of Thieves and Liars helps those who believe in him. I could tell you that he helped me, made me invisible and when they opened the door to find out where I disappeared to, I slipped out of the door. I could tell I used one of my tricks, one of the secret weapons only my people know about. I could tell you I bribed a guard and he let me out. I could tell you a lot of different stories, but, you see, I'm a priest of the Silent One. And you know what the thing is with priests of the Silent One? We don't talk!” With that I snipped a coin with the profile of Jamis II on the table and stood. I hoped one of them would pick it up and wonder how he came to have such a coin in the morning. I left, leaving my audience without an answer.

How did I really escape? I told a story to a king and the king let me leave â€" without any loot, of course. But I could never tell anybody this: I did have a reputation, after all.

I came back three weeks later, knowing full well about the trap and I successfully stole the symbol and a chest of gold. The king wasn't exactly thrilled to see me when I brought the symbol back but he was at least glad I didn't keep it. He forgave me, eventually, and we chat from time to time. He will be my brother-in-law after tonight, after all.

[Baron]

Two entries already!  Keep 'em coming folks.  The greater the number of participants, the greater the glory of victory! 

Oh, and don't forget to have fun.  That's important.

[Atelier]

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-22892658

[Baron]

Awesome!  But.... unless you were either co-ordinating the rescue operation or were responsible for the sinking of the ship, I don't see how you can claim authorship. 

SIX MORE DAYS TO GO!  LET'S SEE MORE ENTRIES!!!

[Atelier]

Haha I'm coming out the tail-end of exams at the moment, so won't be able to complete my entry (for a second time)

[Ghost]

I'm coming out the tail-end of exams at the moment

That already is the story of an impossible escape! 

[Baron]

So is that Atelier's entry for living it, or Ghost's entry for pointing out that it's a story?

[Ghost]

So is that Atelier's entry for living it, or Ghost's entry for pointing out that it's a story?

Are there extra trophies for pointing stuff out? Then dibs. And may I point out the enourmous spiffines of your monocle, good sir? 

Ponch hurry up!

[Adeel]

    Just finished my story in time. This one's a bit long so you are recommended to grab some snacks and drink to fully enjoy it.    This time, you will not find huge time leaps (that's why its long). Thought to remind the readers in this post to keep the other one "clutter" free.

[Adeel]

IMPOSSIBLE ESCAPE

   "Hamid, do something. The children are close to dying from the hunger." - These were the words which used to create an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Hamid was a fisherman and father of five children. A fisherman's job is not an easy one. Sometimes, there are many fish to catch. Sometimes, not even a stray boot hooks up. Call it a seasonal income or anything but it was the only source of income for him as he was a poor and uneducated man. His whole family who were poor themselves were also attached to this profession. They had accepted this as their written fate for themselves and for their future generations. But Hamid was an optimist. Even in the gloom of poverty, he dreamed better for his children. That's why all his children were studying in the local private school. Government one's were free but sadly, due to the lack of government's attention in Pakistan, they had became literally useless. This local one wasn't very good either because the excellent ones had the "excellent" fees which, he was unable to pay.

   This time of year had been worst for him. He had been sick for days. His well mannered and savvy wife had been making the ends meet with the little saving she had done from his limited income and that too in the age of inflation. But, now the savings were also running out and if anything wasn't done soon. All family would be reduced to hunger. Hamid was beginning to feel better so he decided to go and catch some fishes. By luck he had caught enough that would save him and his family from hunger for that day. Life continued like this. Maria, Hamid's wife often used to ask him why he doesn't go with the fish caravan? She sometimes begged him to go with them but he just plainly refused to go.

   Fish caravan was a group of sailors & fishermen who all used to gathered funds and rented out a large ship. Then all would aboard it and sail out in the ocean where was a much greater chance of a large catch. After catching enough, everyone would sell it to the big companies and divide all the money between them equally. This caravan used to go once in a every month and helped the local fishermen a lot.

   Hamid, on the other hand was against this idea. Because he had heard rumors of fishermen who had ventured too far and then had been arrested by the Indian government on the accuse of being spies. Since many fishermen were illiterate therefore they couldn't make out the border in the sea.

    Sickness come and go but unfortunately, few are the ones who prove to be fatal. His youngest son had been sick for the last three months and he couldn't figure out what the disease was. He took his son to the nearby Hakeem (similar to a doctor - gives herbal medicines) But as ill luck would have it. That, too was  not fruitful. The boy's condition was becoming worse and worse. Taking loans from his friends, he took his to a hospital in the city near to his village. Doctors there examined it. They were angry as why he didn't bring his son before? Diagnosed disease was "Pneumonia" and on its final stage. Doctors recommended an operation and asked him the amount which he hadn't even dreamed in his entire life: Thousand Dollars (equivalent to approx. Rs. 100,000). Hamid was speechless. How could he gather such a large amount? Only one idea which seemed practical remained in his mind - Fish Caravan.

   He left his wife and children at the hospital and immediately went to the village. He inquired about the Fish Caravan but soon found out that it had just left. With no option left, he rented a small but strong boat and set out alone for the ocean.

   Ocean was a new experience for Hamid. He had never been there so he didn't knew where he was going. He only had a crude map drawn by his father when Hamid, himself was a child. The map was helpful but to a very little extent. At many points, he stopped sailing, caught some fish and then start sailing again. When he felt the need to eat, he ate his catch and that too uncooked. But he had a goal - to gather as much fish as he can so that he may sell it for the operation. At the end of the day, he slept in his ship exhausted.

   Ill luck was at its peak. Even though he had come much far, yet the catch was not what he had expected so he kept moving forward and forward. Eventually, he lost the track of time. Few yards away from where he was. He saw the fishes merrily jumping in and out of the water. His fisherman's instinct told him that if he went there he would be able to get a bigger catch.With a new spirit he started sailing towards the yard. As soon as he reached his destination. He heard some distant sirens but he disregarded them and went on to proceed with catching fish. The sirens were growing louder and louder with the passing minute so his worry. His fear was becoming true. Gradually, he realized what he had done - he had crossed the border without any passports, document and worst of it without his knowledge. He was in deep trouble. The police boats surrounded his ship and lowered their sirens. One of the officers warned, "You have crossed the Indian border without permission. Have you got anything to say?". Trembling from fear, he replied, "I, I di..didn't know I had crossed bor-border." Officer merely chuckled and tauntingly said, "Well everyone says that. Pack your things boy you are coming with us". "But, Sahaab (Sir) please listen to me. I am here because my son is sick and I wanted to catch some fish to gather the money for his operation." Hamid pleaded but officer wasn't going to listen. He said, "An interesting story you have made up. Very well, come with us and keep us entertained by telling more stories often". They arrested him and tied his boat with theirs. Hamid pleaded many times to let him go but there is not going back after crossing the border. He was lucky he hadn't been shot. To silence Hamid, one of the officer hit him in the head with gun's butt and Hamid slumbered into unconsciousness.

   When Hamid woke up, he found himself locked up in a cell. His head was still sore from the hit. He took view of his surroundings. He noticed the walls were cracked up and dusty. The cell itself was dark. Only few pencils of light were falling on the floor which made the sight visible. He was sharing his cell with two other persons. They were watching him closely. Hamid couldn't hold himself longer and started crying. "Why, why God? Tell me why you are taking my examination? Why do you landed me in this situation. I never did bad to anyone.", Hamid was more like asking God rather than nagging. At last, one of the two cell mates broke the ice and introduced himself as Hashim. Hashim put his hand on Hamid's shoulder. They exchanged each others' stories. The other one had joined too. He introduced himself as Vijay.

   Vijay had raped a girl for which he had deep regret. He told Hamid about his glorious past: When he had no worries, carefree and free as a bird chirping while sitting on the trees. Until one day, his animal deep inside suddenly awoke due to the wrong friends and he went on to follow the path of crime. How he used to take everyone for granted. How he used to look towards girls with lusty eyes. How, one day, his lust took over his consciousness and he raped an innocent girl.  How she kept screaming and continuously pleaded him to let her go. But he had became an animal then. The girl lost all the hope of her life and died in suicide attempt. Now, when he was in prison for 80 years on owing to the charges of Rape and Attempt to Murder. All his teenager and middle age life ruined, he came to know the bitter reality of life. His crime had become a nightmare for him. Now, he had no will to live but to support the new cell mates morally.

    Hashim, on the other was prisoned for murder. He told how richest he and his family were in the whole village till the day his uncle (father's brother) snatched all the properties illegally by forging documents and how they were reduced to poverty. at this. Hashim recalled and told how one fine day, he along with his brother, sister and widow mother were sitting in a room when that wretched man barged right through the door, drunk. First, he offered to marry Hamid's younger sister and on the obvious refusal, he tried to rape her. Hashim couldn't watch and due to the anger which he had been holding back for days served as a fuel. The lava exploded and in blind anger, he killed his uncle. Hashim felt that this murder was justified but law is blind. Hence, he was sentenced for life time. Hamid was awaiting for his trial . He was becoming hopeless. He was desperate to see his son, kiss him, hug him and to be with him yet destiny was not merciful on him.

   Days were passing slowly. Hamid was gradually losing hope. His cell mates encouraged him but it was not fruitful too. He often wept before sleeping. Seeing this desperation, Hashim and Vijay planned for his escape from prison. Next morning, they confided Hamid of their plan. Hamid was reluctant to proceed but his paternal affection made him to follow the plan. The risks were enormous but the reward was satisfying.

   Every three months, prisoners were exchanged from the nearby jails so that those who were digging some tunnels would not succeed. Each cell's prisoners were accompanied by two constables, turn-by-turn towards the prisoners' van in which they were shifted to the already decided jails. Plan was simple: When the guards would be accompanying them, Hashim and Vijay would entangle themselves with the guards; thus allowing Hamid a chance to escape.

   Finally, the day came when the  prisoners were to be exchanged. When their turn came, Hashim and Vijay according to the plan tried to hold the constables. This was proving difficult as their hands were tied to their backs. Both were yelling, "Run Hamid ! Run!". Hamid got the opportunity. He ran as fast as he could. A wave of panic had been created. Constables were yelling for the backup. Other prisoners seeing this scene through the grill of van's window were giving mixed response. Some were yelling, "Run Fast!" while some were yelling, "Police, catch him! Don't let him go!". Nothing could be heard in such loud noise.

   Hamid had two options. Whether to run towards the forest or to run towards the road. Hamid took the forest's path because the road one would be open suicide. As he was about to enter the forest, he heard the roars of consecutive shots. He turned back and saw that a group of policemen were high on their heels and getting closer to him. He increased his speed. The shots which were being fired at intervals had suddenly stopped. Hamid once again looked back and saw a dreadful scene. Vijay was clutching his chest from where the stain of blood was gradually increasing and darking. Tears came in Hamid's eyes, he wanted to stop but that would mean Vijay's sacrifice would go in vain. Soon, he entered forest.

   The forest was a thick one and untamed. There were no rangers here and it was a home of many beasts. Fortunately, there were no tigers or lions though. Branches were protruding from the trees at different heights. Some were very low. With great difficulty, Hamid wandered deep into the forest with police hot in his pursuit. Hamid lived in a village which was near forest. As a kid, he often used to go there to play with his friends and had become a skilled forest traveler. This skill proved an advantage for Hamid and soon he went out of their sight. After some yards, he saw a river flowing away from the place. He quickly dived into the water and began swimming. As a fisherman, his swimming skills were excellent. Hence, he was feeling no difficulty at all even though river was flowing fast. He was rapidly increasing his speed. He looked back and saw that the policemen were coming closer. Fearing to be spotted, he went deep into the faster and started kicking his legs faster than he had ever kicked in his entire life.

   Policemen stopped at the bank of the river. A constable said, "Sir, do you think he would have dived into the river?". "Possibly. But he would have drowned by now. Look at the speed of flow." said an officer with a grunt. The policemen just made some remarks, reluctant to do any action as they didn't want to drown. After few remarks, they departed, cursing the incident and Hamid.

   Meanwhile Hamid wasn't able to hold his breath anymore therefore he quickly kicked towards surface and gulped for fresh air. Luckily, he had gotten away owing to the fast swimming and that too accelerated by the flow of river. He swam for what felt to him like hours and was getting exhausted. Finally, he saw a bank and reached there. There, he lied on the sand and lost consciousness.

   When Hamid opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a bed. He got up and looked around. For a fleeting second, he thought he was back in prison again. But shaking off this thought, he realized that he was inside a withering house. He heard some noise similar to a metal being welded. He went towards the source of sound and soon saw a young man welding the handle of a cycle. Boy looked up and stopped his work. He said, "So, you have woken up. Would you like some bread?". "Sure", said Hamid as he was hungry. Boy got up and gave him bread and sat in front of him. Hamid had forgotten his hands had been cuffed until he stretched out his hand to take the bread. Taking the bread, he asked, "You broke -". "Yes, I have cut your handcuffs.", Boy replied, interrupting him. "My name is Pascal. What's your's and what's your story". Hamid told Pascal his name and his story. Pascal in return told him that he was a welder who had come to this village for earning money for his family as in this village, there was more work for a welder. He had bought a house and was soon going to call his family here. He told Hamid that he will help him escape and advised him to rest for some time. Hamid agreed and thanking him, went to sleep.

   When Hamid woke up, he found that it was still morning. Surprised, he asked Pascal that had he slept? Pascal chuckling, said, "You went into a deep sleep. I tried to wake you for the dinner but you didn't wake up so  let you sleep". Hamid was surprised as he felt like that he had just slept a few minutes ago.

   Pascal told Hamid his plan that Hamid will go with Pascal's fisherman friend, 'Hari Singh'. Hari will try to get close as much to the border as he can without crossing it. There Hamid will dive into the sea and swim away from the sight of Marine Police and then aboard any fishing ship that will take him back to Pakistan. Hamid said, "But how I am going to survive into the sea for this long?". Pascal replied, "You'll use diving suit. Hari has a spare one. It is old but it will do the job. I will also give some money - wrapped in plastic bag.", adding last word when he saw astonished look on Hamid's face. Hamid immediately agreed to this. When the conversation was over, both went to Hari's home to follow the plan. On way to Hari's home, Hamid said, "How can I ever thank you...I will be forever grateful to you.". Pascal smiled and said, "You are the innocent here.We can't let your children lose their father". Hearing this, tears came down from Hamid's eyes.

   Everything went according to the plan. Hamid thanked Hari for his generosity and dived into the sea. He had been taught by Hari as to how to use the diving gear. Hari had warned Hamid that air supply would only last an hour so Hamid should be quick. Hamid started swim as fast as he could. Hamid lost track of time and just kept swimming.

   Suddenly, Hamid couldn't breath any longer. His air supply was exhausted. Hamid didn't realize that he was swimming for an hour. He immediately held his breath and kicked for the surface thinking that he had gotten enough far that he wouldn't be spotted. At the surface, he removed the air supply pipe from his mouth. Gulping for air, he looked around and saw a fish caravan. He went there and saw Pakistan's flag painted on it. He was delighted to see this and requested the crew to let him aboard the ship. They agreed and he boarded the ship. Hamid told them his story. They were amazed and congratulated him for his seemingly impossible escape. Hamid asked that when the ship would go back? He was told that they had already decided to return and if they hadn't stopped to eat food, Hamid would have missed them. The crew shared their food with Hamid. Hamid thanked them and was happy that he had finally escaped.

   By the night time, fish caravan had reached the shore. Hamid was exhausted but he couldn't wait any longer. He went to the bus stop to board the bus going to the city from where his village was near.

   Hamid reached the city. As it was very late, vehicles had literally disappeared. Hamid started to walk to his village but he couldn't wait any longer so he started running. He would pause for sometime to regain his breath and after regaining breath started running again.

   At last, he made his way to his village and eventually, to his home. He heard noise of someone's sobbing. With sinking heart, he knocked on the door. His wife opened the door slowly. She was afraid that who would come at this time. Seeing Hamid, she started screaming with delight. Hamid immediately put his hand on her mouth so that she would not wake the whole village up.  Tears were still glistening in her eyes. They went inside and Hamid took his hand off his wife's mouth. She immediately hugged him, weeping in delight.

   "How's my son?", Hamid asked dreading the answer. "Oh, he fine! Look yourself.", said Maria. Hamid went to see his son. He was in deep sleep. He slowly moved his hand over his son's hair. "Don't wake them now. We'll surprise them in the morning', Hamid whispered and quietly went to his room.

   Lying on the bed, he asked his wife, "How come you managed to gather enough money for the operation?". She replied, "This miracle is due to N.G.O". She told him that the kid's condition becoming worse each day and when Hamid didn't show up, she realized that Hamid had been captured. She had lost all the hope because not only son was going to die, her husband would not come back. She told him that she pleaded the doctor to save life of her son but he plainly refuse to operate without payment. A woman who had been watching her pleading, told her that she would help. She was from N.G.O. They paid for operation and all the medicines. Operation was successful and the kid was cured. Soon he was discharged. Now, only one worry was haunting her that her husband wouldn't return and what answer she will give to her children. She prayed all time that Hamid was return and at last, her prayers had been accepted and he came.

   After telling her story, she asked, "What had happened to you?". In reply, Hamid told his story. Both then went quiet. Hamid was staring at nothing in particular and was thinking about the events that had changed his point of view. He recalled how the local clerics bashed the non-Muslims for no particular reason. Yet, these were the ones who helped him a lot in his journey. Vijay sacrificed his life, repenting for his sins, to save an innocent one. He would never see Pascal, Hari or Hashim but deep down, he was grateful to them. He recalled how much he, Hamid, hated N.G.Os when they use to come to his village for gathering funds yet an N.G.O had saved his son's life. Hamid had never seen life this close before. This journey had thought him a great lesson.
   Next morning, children were ecstatic to see their father back. Whole family was delighted and enjoying a kind of celebration. "I'll never let anything harm you. I'll always be there with you all. You are my real treasure.", Hamid addressed his family with teary eyes. "I have decided. From now on, we'll save a portion of our money and donate it to N.G.Os", Hamid said. This made everyone shocked. Hamid was smiling. He had learned that there was still humanity left in this materialistic world and he would by all means support humanity so that in future, every Hamid's son would survive and live.

== The End ==

[Ponch]

Ponch hurry up!

I'm trying! I'm working double shifts all week! I have half of a story and I'll try to finish it tomorrow.

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EDIT!
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Shelby hated the dark. Cramped, small spaces were bad enough for him, but turn out the lights and he'd panic every time. The other boys would tease or torment him by shoving him in closets or cabinets and then throwing their weight against the door, trapping him inside. Often it took several boys working together to hold that door shut. On more than one occasion, by the time the other boys decided to let him out, Shelby had wet himself.

When Shelby was six, he and his mom had been trapped together in a collapsed building during one of the early "liberation" attacks. Too small to get pinned but too weak to dig his way out, he had listened to his mother slowly die in that darkness. It took days, he'd said. After that, he could never get past the fear that he too would die, trapped and unable to move in a suffocating blackness.

He died ten years later, during one of the last liberation strikes, gasping vainly for breath with useless, perforated lungs, in a big, open field on a bright and sunny day.

Ask and ye shall receive, I guess.

Venn's dad had been the one who dug little Shelby out of the rubble. The Old Man had stank of alcohol, like always, but that day he was hailed as a hero and Venn was almost able to admire him. Most of the men in town had bought him drinks that night. The booze kept on flowing right up until the Old Man starting swinging and relieved a few of his new friends of their excess teeth. When he came home later that night, bruised and swollen from the beating he taken at the hands of those ungrateful bums, he took out the rest of his victory celebration on Venn.

The Old Man had hoped Shelby and me could be friends, Venn mused. But I could never stand that little shit. Crybaby pussy for the first half of his life and then once he got a good growth spurt and learned how to throw a punch, a big bully that picked on all the little kids and butchered all the pets in the neighborhood. Fucking idiot.

What sort of jackass joins the very same group of revolutionaries that killed his own mom?

Shelby didn't give a shit about their politics, Venn thought to himself. He was just looking for an excuse to hurt people and get away with it. Anything to get even with the world.

In the smothering confines of the long unused water pipe, lit by the guttering flame of his cigarette lighter, Venn Cody studied the corpse wedged in the tunnel just ahead of him.

Just the sort of death Shelby was always so damn afraid of.

Practically mummified. Been here a long time. Maybe even from back before the invasion, back when this world was still run by us. An old shotgun, lightly speckled with rust, was still clutched in the dead man's hand. The other arm look to be broken. A set of keys was stuffed into a dry rotted pocket. A notepad. A pencil. Some old money, the kind the national government used to issue, back when there was one. A dead flashlight lay next to him. Like the man, its light had gone out a long time ago.

Maybe he died during the invasion? The thought of it made Venn shudder. Bad enough to bite it hiding and cramped up in a pipe like this. But this poor son of a bitch must have thought the whole world was coming to an end out there.

Not the whole world. Just most of it. But not the places they couldn't use. Those they left for us.

"PUBLIC WORKS... WATER & SANI-" Venn whispered the words softly, reading them from the back of the dead man's fading coveralls. The rest of it, whatever it might say, was hidden. Obscured by the way the body was twisted up and pressed against the walls of the pipe.

Must have been in a lot of pain when he died. Bad way to go. I almost wish Shelby was here. He'd shit himself at the sight of you, buddy. And what the hell was "public works" anyway? What sort of work could be public? Made no damn sense.

Behind him, back the way he'd came, soft skittering noises carried up to him, echoing slightly with a metallic ring.

Probably found the bike parked outside by now. Not like I had any way to hide it. Can't be helped now. Won't take 'em long to figure out I came in here. They may be vermin (or so everyone told him), but those things were damned smart sometimes.

Venn's hand drifted towards the pistol in his belt, but he remembered it was empty and stopped himself. He reached out instead for the shotgun. With any luck, this guy still had some ammo left when he crawled in here to die.

"Let's hope you didn't go down fighting, buddy..."

[Chef!]

The Viper
   



   She had been captured and imprisoned.  She had been questioned, beaten and raped.  All because of one little vile of poison.  All because of some highborn tripe named lady Carlyn; but she would pay.  “They all would pay,” Viper muttered under her breath as she paced around her cell waiting for her chance to strike.

   Viper heard foot steps approaching and got into position and began holding her breath.  She had watched this guard carefully.  He wasn't like the others, he was kind.  He was young and naive.

                  *   *   *

   Private Hadfield didn't particularly like being a guard but it was easy work and it paid well.  He should be grateful.  He only got the this position because he was the earls bastard.  Today was different, there was a lovely girl in the dungeons. 

   She had been beaten. The captain was a cruel man; but not enough to mar her beauty.  They had captured her yesterday and questioned her relentlessly.  They called her the viper, she denied it; claiming she was only delivering the poison.   

   Private Hadfield believed her.  The Viper was old, everyone knew that.  The Viper had been around before his father became earl and his father had been earl since before he was born. This girl was young, barely a woman. 

   He was only after the reward, Private Hadfield was sure.  If Captain Bailey really thought she was the Viper he wouldn't have put her in this private cell.  He would have left her chained to the rack in the dungeon.  She was here because she was harmless, and because she would make him money by selling her to the soldiers. 

   The thought made him sick and ashamed.  He had been given first watch for a reason, he was the earls beloved Bastard.  He was supposed to go first; first aside from the Captain.  He had walked by twice already.  She had stared at him emptily both times. This time he was going to do it, he had decided it was alright if he was gentle.  She was so lovely.

   He found himself walking faster as he neared, eyes straight ahead longing for that first glance.  He stumble slightly when he saw her.  Something was wrong.  She was dangling by her neck from the bars of her cell.  Private Hadfield ran to her.  She had hung herself with torn strips from the bottom of her skirt.
   
     He shoved his hands through the bars and picked her up by the waist.  He felt her move and thanked god she wasn't dead.  Suddenly she jerked free and grabbed him by his tunic.  Her other hand was holding his dagger between his legs.  “Open the door Private.”

   The blade did not waver. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he tried to think. She had fooled him, fooled them all.  The blade twisted up and under his crotch and she pressed it in further ever so slightly.  “Open the door now.”   This time the words were a command.

   He did as he was told.  As soon as the lock clicked open she whipped the dagger up and drove it into his throat.  The last thought that went through his head was please god strike her down.

                  *   *   *

   Viper made her way out of the cell and dragged the guards body back in.  She tucked the body under a tattered blanket to look like a sleeping prisoner.  It wouldn't buy her much time but it was the best she could do.

   The brutish looking prisoner in the cell next to her had been watching and she tossed him the keys before moving on.  Viper didn't want to free him but he might raise an alarm if she left him.  She moved on quickly running through the shadows.  She didn't want to get caught up in a prison riot.  If she was fast enough though a riot could be a useful distraction.

   Ahead she saw another gate, it was locked but a guard was sleeping at his post.  Viper didn't let up, she moved as silent as a shadow and let her dagger fly when she reached the gate.  The blade sunk into his skull like it was wet sand.  Warm satisfaction flooded through her body.  She would soon be free.  Free to collect her vengeance.
   
   She couldn't reach him through the bars with her hands so Viper used her feet.  Grabbing his tunic with her toes she tipped him out of his chair.  Now that she could reach him she took the keys and opened the door.

   Viper heard the other prisoners close behind her and she shut the door.  She needed more time for herself.  She left the keys just out of reach to keep the others prisoners quiet when they saw them.  Around the corner she found a bow and arrow and smiled. 

   Memories and daydreams flashed through her mind jumbling together.  Poisoned arrows, darts, and knives sailing through the air before sinking into the unsuspecting flesh of lady Carlyn and Captain Bailey.  Viper shook her head.  That was too quick for them.  She would tip the darts with a paralysis poison and then toy with them until they begged for death.

   A door opened fallowed by footsteps.  “Leave it open Rob, we won't be long.  We just can't let little Hadfield have all the fun; even if he is the earls bastard!”  The dungeons flooded with laughter.

   â€œAlright I'll leave it open but be quick about it, my watch is over in a bell and I don't want her all used up.” 

   Their mocking laughter filled her with rage.  Viper clenched her jaw to steady her nerves.  Flashes of the captain beating and raping her streaked across her vision.  She had fooled him, fooled them all.  Acting like a scared child, when she was anything but.

   Viper was seasoned nearly forty years.  Her secret was in the venom's she used.  It was a discipline her father had instilled in her.  Pricking her skin and then dripping diluted venom into the blood.  Slowly building up the potency and then the dose.   She had fooled them, but it wasn't all acting; age couldn't prepare you for that, nothing could.

   She drew the bow and waited in the shadows between the torches.  Three of them appeared, stumbling slightly, jesting and jeering each other.  Merrily anticipating the gang rape to come.

   Viper was no longer listening. She waited for them to come closer.   One stumble and stopped, leaning down to tie his boot.  Another looked back and viper sent an arrow into the thirds nose.  The second turned to see what had happened still smiling and she put an arrow in the middle of his chest.

   She was already running. The third looked up with a completely lost expression; his boot only half tied. She cracked him on the forehead with her bow.  When he fell back and viper stomped on his throat.  She felt his windpipe break under her heal.  As his hands reached up to his ruined neck Viper shot an arrow right between his legs.

   She left him there rolling around on the cold stone floor like a dying fish.  Silence again.  She was almost free of the dungeon.  She would still have to make it across the Courtyard and get through the gates or over the Ramparts.  An idea came to her and Viper donned one of the dead soldiers tunics and helm and waited just around the corner.

   A drop of any of the venom's she collected will kill any man; six drops would barely even affect her now.  The venom didn't kill her it only made her stronger. Some affected the flesh and this was what kept her looking so young all these years.  The other venom's affected the mind, they kept her senses sharp.  She was more in tune with her surroundings.  She could hear every leaf ruffle in a tree and disappear in any shadow.  No one had ever come close to catching her before. 

   She had been a fool to help Lady Carlyn.  She had wanted the poison for her husband, who beat her and spent her coin on whores.  She had confessed her plans to the priests and betrayed her.  Soon she would pay for treachery along with Captain Bailey.

   Viper heard the gate open behind her.  The prisoners had freed themselves.  Viper slung the bow on her shoulder and walked around the corner.  She made her way quietly up the stairs and through the open gate.  “Done already?”  Rob chuckled.

   Viper met his eyes for a second and rammed the dagger up under his chin.  The gate faced the  rampart in the corner of the courtyard and was fairly secluded.  Viper looked around, it was mid afternoon and the soldiers who didn't have the day off were drilling in shield walls. 

   Viper hid where Rob had been standing.  She waited for the prisoners and slashed one across the face.  She cried out in her deepest voice “The prisoners have escaped!”   Viper backed up quickly and repeated herself louder while drawing her bow.  The men at arms rushed forward.  Viper fired a few  poorly aimed arrows before vanishing during the fray. 

   She climbed the stairs leading up to the ramparts, seemingly for a better vantage point.  Then she leaped over the battlements while everybody was focusing on the prisoners.  Landing with a roll down a thatched roof viper dropped into an alley bordering the market.  She quickly ditched her guards uniform along with her bow and arrow.  Hiding the dagger in her sleeve she covered any blood up with mud.

   No one noticed her conniving smile when she walked out the front gate.  She would be back soon enough for her revenge, but first she needed her supplies.  She needed her blow gun, her bow, her knives and daggers.  She needed her armour and her venom and poisons; the sleepers, aggressors, mind-benders and especially the paralyser's. Viper thought of Captain Bailey and lady Carlyn and smiled viciously.   

    Soon Viper consoled herself.  Soon the lady would pay for her treachery and soon the captain would pay for what he had done to her. She would burn that village and tear down the earls entire castle  if she had too, but she would have her vengeance.   

                  *   *   *

   The Viper left the road and disappeared into the forest.

   
   

   

[Baron]

Those are five solid looking entries guys: good work.  Any other contenders?  I don't think I have it in me to stay up to midnight tonight, so you are free to submit your story before I officially start the voting round tomorrow morning (let's say roughly 10 hours from the time of this post, for you folks in those crazy opposite-land time zones  )