if i die tomorrow - permanent hiatus

rain

     The darkness was tangible.

     The slumped figures of the seven, blindfolded and gagged, blended into the shadow like ghosts. Chains and manacles hung from the ceiling of the carriage, digging into their limp wrists. Some of them had let go of any last fighting spirit and fallen to the ground, the handcuffs keeping them half kneeling, half standing. Some were standing hunched. 

     I slipped through the cramped space, between rancid bodies clad in torn and ragged clothes. A few had the energy to look up and turn their heads, the blindfolds encasing them in a world of darkness, while most were lost within their own mind.

     Every night the carriage came bearing criminals of the higher degree. Often, there was only one person. Seven was already quite a few.

     I was lucky. It made it easier for me to blend in. 

     My movement was silent. I pulled out my lockpicks again, and set to work on one of the criminal's manacles. I quickly blocked his mouth with my arm, holding him in a headlock. He began to flail. 

     I smiled to myself as he kicked another criminal, who shouted in pain. He threw a kick back in the wrong direction because of the blindfolds, and hit yet another man. 

     These were some of the worst criminals Hyrule had to offer, but I was one of the best soldiers. I dodged their inaccurate hits easily and unlocked the first man. The crack of his neck was lost in the noise. 

     Pretty soon a nice little storm of chaos was brewing within the carriage. Noise and commotion rocked the creaky walls, chains rattling, voices raised in anger. The carriage driver was screaming over all of them, whereas the guards were already stepping into the carriage, yelling for everyone to settle down or face graver consequences than the one they were already due for. 

     They left the door open, just a crack, in the mess I had created. I skitted past the edge of the circles of lamplight and slipped into the shadows. 

     And if I quietly threw out a body out of the carriage to roll away into the bushes, who was to notice?

     Finally the hubbub quieted, after quite a few square punches and a lot of shouting. I shoved my lockpicks back into my clothes as the lanterns turned to the door, where the master was coming in to check the names one more time.

     This incident didn't delay my schedule too much, at the most a few minutes, which I could find a way to buy back. I was grateful. There were so many possibilities for this plan to go wrong, fast. 

     Just hang on for half an hour more, max.

     I hastily slipped on the blindfold ripped off of the dead man's face, clasped the manacles on my own left wrist. 

     I felt the heat of the lantern swing past me. My throat bobbed as I swallowed, my face ghostly pale. 

     "Hey, hey." I heard the man jeer at me, his voice awfully close. I could feel his breath hit my face and it took everything in me not to recoil. "What's with your right hand? Why isn't it locked up like everyone else's?"

     "It's broken." I rasped, dropping my voice an octave. 

     "There ain't nothin in the records about a broken hand."

     Dammit! "Got broken just now. Slipped out of the manacles in the fight." I said quickly. 

     I could see the lantern's light glow right in front of my face, even through the rough blindfold. 

     "You look awfully young." The man's voice was quieter, almost a whisper, but not quite.

     "I'm not young. Just good skincare."