Taking Fantasia : A Disney Fanfiction

Chapter 58: Jailbreak

Chapter 58: Jailbreak

Hands, attached to shapes bodies, groped along the cell walls like scattering mice. Wild, liquidy screams ruptured like knife wounds. Chains rattled like jars of broken teeth. Grown men sobbed, wishing they were dead.

The Sheriff of Nottingham put is arms behind his back.

Ah! Music to his ears!

"Sure thing!" murmured the Sheriff, puffing lazy Os from his cigar."This is the life. Nothing beats a good ol' jail house rock. Ahhhhhh."

Creak went the prison door.

The Sheriff opened his eyes. Two vultures ogled inches from his nose. "Whoa! Criminently!"

Keys jangling, the Sheriff rolled back in his chair. Angrily, he swiped a claw at his two guards. "Trigger! Nutsy! What in tarnation are ya trying to do?"

"Sorry Sheriff!" Trigger said, flapping to the ground. He patted his crossbow importantly as Nutsy waddled behind. "But we were guarding the front entrance, just like you wanted – "

"FOR-tification!" added Nutsy enthusiastically.

"Quiet you dumb, Dummy!" Trigger said, swiveling his long neck to glare at Nutsy. His crossbow swung at the Sheriff.

Jumping, the Sheriff repositioned Trigger's crossbow. The arrow tip was pointed at his belly. "Criminently, Trigger! Point that peashooter the other way!"

"Don't you worry, Sheriff." Trigger reassured, turning his beak back around. Again, he patted the crossbow. "The safety's on Old Betsy."

"I'll believe that!" growled the Sheriff, eyeing Old Besty. "When you two bird brains get back to your duty!"

"But that's the thing Sheriff." Trigger jabbed his long neck at the entrance. "Two fellas just came up the front steps. All mysterious like. Draped in black like it's Halloween. I'm telling ya Sheriff...I've got a feeling in my bones – "

"Draped in black, huh?" The Sheriff sniffed his nose.

"Maybe it's Harry Potter!" Nutsy gushed, hopping up and down.

Trigger fingered the trigger on Old Betsy.

"What in tarnation do they want at this time of night?" grumbled the Sheriff, strutting past the vulture guards. "Blinking middle of the – "

"I assure you." said a silky voice. "You will find our motives profitable."

Trigger and the Sheriff stopped. Nutsy gawked, tongue hanging from his mouth.

Two dark figures hulked in the shadows. Inadequate flecks of candlelight caught parts of their faces.

Then, the figure that had spoken stepped forward. He removed his hood. He smiled with lethal blue eyes.

Nutsy almost wet his pants.

The Sheriff of Nottingham rolled his eyes. "Criminently, now I know why your mamma called ya Nutsy. Go on, both of you! Get! Get!"

"We're a getting'! We're a getting'!" Trigger insisted, skipping out of reach of the Sheriff's boot. Nutsy followed, grinning apologetically at the mysterious strangers.

"Can't find good help, nowheres!" mumbled the Sheriff. Still grumbling, he turned to the newcomer. "Watcha want, Stranger?"

"I'd like a word with one of your inmates."

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. "Relation?"

"Let's just say..." the stranger's blue eyes gleamed. "...business partner."

"Humph." grunted the Sheriff. "Something funny going on here. What's the cell number? Or name?"

The stranger glanced back at his friend. "Silver? You said it was Darling?"

The second figure nodded. "Aye, Capn."

"Splendid." The stranger returned to the Sheriff. "Darling. Mr. Darling."

"Humph." Grumpily, the Sheriff jingled his keys. He walked into the jail. "This way. Right here. Cell number three. But I wouldn't expect much – "

The Sheriff clanged the bars with his Billy stick. Mr. Darling jerked awake inside. "Darling's a drunk without a drink. Seein' things and screaming bloody murder for days on end!"

The stranger's blue eyes glowed. Silently, he watched Mr. Darling crawl to the cell bars. "We shall see. I thank you, Sheriff. You seem...a very useful man."

The Sheriff swelled. "That's why they call me Sheriff!"

"I'm sure." The stranger knelt. "Now. If I could have some privacy...to talk...business."

"Huh? Oh sure! Sure! Anything you want...uh...uh..."

"Hook." replied the stranger. "Captain Hook."

The Sheriff was impressed. Captain. Stranger had some clout! Not to mention style! And fine taste in important authority figures...such as The Sheriff himself!Saluting, The Sheriff jingled back to the front desk, harassing random cells along the way.

Captain Hook smiled. Deftly, he removed a bottle of rum from the folds of his velvet trench. He raised the bottle to the metal bars.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Mr. Darling raised his eyes. Groggily, his head flopped as if it were attached by a single string to his neck. Blood stains tricked from his nose. Vomit stains trickled like crust over his lips and chin.

Then he saw the rum. Revitalized, he rose. Hacking, Mr. Darling groped for the bottle.

"Uh, uh, uh. Not so fast."

Captain Hook flicked back the bottle. He waited, watching Mr. Darling's eyes follow the sloshing amber liquid.

"Trapped? Aren't you?"

Mr. Darling nodded. His fingers scratched along the bars.

Captain Hook inched forward the bottle. "Thirsty too?"

Mr. Darling nodded like a mangled puppy.

Captain Hook held out the bottle. Just out of reach. "Well then. I think we can make a bargain."

"Any-fing." Mr. Darling coughed. His eyes were wild and loose. "Pleesz. Any-fing!"

Captain Hook leaned closer. He tilted the bottle. "Anything?"

"Ye—yes!"

"Anything?"

"YES!"

Captain Hook smiled. "Good. I need a way into Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed. You see there is a particular...student, I simply must find. And meet."

Pop. Rum splashed onto the prison floor. Mr. Darling dove, licking the golden puddle.

Captain Hook's eyes crackled like blue flames. "And I believe...you have a daughter."