The Rogues

36- Let go

Dominic

I was starting to get used to waking up with a nauseating headache that crept from pillars of darkness, submerging my vision in shadows for God knows how long. My bones ached every time I shuffled even an inch, my flesh burning like coals of fire pressed the spots where the Razor stung me. If I was ever captured by Detra, I never imagined it going down quite like this. I imagined a heroic fight, a battle that I would hold my guard until all my bits of strength were gone. Instead, I simply raised my arms and let them throw shiny shackles around my wrists.

Of course I didn't want to hand myself in, but what other choice did I have? Grado carried no mercy under the depths of that lustrous opulent helmet. If I hadn't turned myself in, he wouldn't have thought twice about slashing his knife across poor Becketts throat. A kid or not, Grado didn't care, he was just another useless brick that stood in the way. Beckett had a life ahead of him, a life that could be so much greater than mine. I couldn't live with myself if that was taken away from him.

But was I even living? Waking up in a dark room, your limbs tied immovable to a chair and your mouth gauged  so you can barely suck in air feels close to death to me, and I'd almost died before.

Stop complaining, you saved his life, which is much more valuable than yours.

The main question that reigned through my head, was where was I?

On the way back to Detra, I told Grado he was a piece of shit. He didn't take that very lightly, and he knocked me in the head with a rake. I didn't remember anything after that, I must have blacked out. It was a bad move on his end, I feel sorry for the poor bastard that had to carry my limp body back to wherever I was. I must have been in the Chamber, I didnt know where else they would have brought me.

All I saw was darkness, I couldn't even decipher when my eyes were open or when they were shut. My senses did feel a bit keener though, I could make out the tiny clattering of voices behind what seemed to be a wall. Where there's walls, there's a room, so I was able to contrive a little of my surroundings. But how big was the room? It was cold, so it couldn't be too tight, and I couldn't sense any ventilation of air. Why does it matter? stop buying time and get the hell out.

I twisted my fingers, feeling a coarse rope bedded on my wrists. I extended my feet, the pull of fine string drawing my ankles together. I hummed a laugh and it echoed through the nothingness of the dark room. Dumbass's shackled me with rope. Picking locks wasn't just the only thing I learned from this damned place, but slipping out of rope was another skill I picked up. I'd been tied up more times then I could count, and I was bound to  learn a thing or two about the troopers tying  strategy.

Number one: All troopers have been taught to tie the same knot, a double half hitch. They pass the rope around the wrists, around itself, and then between the wrists to make a 'Half Hitch'. Number two: Troopers are stupid enough not to see the faults in thier precious rope. It's fairly easy to break out of, and they hadn't realized they were dealing with someone who had broken out of the Chamber once, snuck in, and snuck back out twice.I fixed my fingers around the rope, and looped it in reverse. I was free in minutes.

I pressed my hands to my mouth and ripped out the fabric gauge, my throat itching to cough, but I swallowed it back. Drawing attention wasn't something I inquired at the moment. I then bent over and untied my feet, the feel of the rope slipping down my ankles was relieving. They tied that one so goddamn tight, I thought my blood might cut.

My knees wobbled up, and the pain that was inflicted upon me roared under my skin. I could hear the rush of my blood, the thump of the deep wound on my head. I pressed my fingers to it to see if it bleed, and my fingers felt only a coarse scab of dried blood. I almost was disappointed. I would have been happier if that blow just killed me right there.