Bond leaned back on the dank straw of his cell and squinted around, looking for possible means of escape. That was what led him to take a closer look at the orange light that allowed him to see anything at all. He had thought it was a torch on the wall at first, but it was much too large. Fire, indeed, but wild, uncontrolled, blazing down the hall, catching on straw and wooden beams, hissing and smoking wildly as it came. He shouted and scrambled against the back wall of his tiny cell, as though that could protect him. His battered body protested the motion, but instinct had taken over. He scanned left and right, but the neighboring cells were empty. He was alone, and about to burn in a few moments. The fire was perhaps six or seven cells down, but looming closer every second. He felt himself slipping back into the dark dream, shock freezing his body and dragging him down into unconsciousness.
At the same time, he heard a yell from the other end of the hall. “Bond!” someone was shouting.
Had someone come looking for him? He struggled to remain lucid. “He—ere,” he choked out, but his voice was feeble.
“Bond, are you here?” Footsteps, pounding down the corridor. All at once, two figures burst out of the shadows. His eyes could barely focus on them, but he saw they were both women. One was all dark hair and eyes, holding two gleaming swords before her. The other was all light, as the fire lit up her red hair, and her eyes glowed as she saw him. Both put up their weapons and rushed to the bars.
“Rivera, it’s him!* the dark women crowed excitedly. “Oh Bond, thank the Gods!”
“Who—“ he tried to ask, but words had deserted him. He collapsed back on the straw, gasping. The fiery woman bashed in the lock, and they dashed to his side as the rusty bars clanged to the side.
19-Jul-2009 20:49:52
