Redeemers

Chapter 1: the Prison

Earth, 2128, Orsinon

Annora is getting tired of waking up to a pail of ice water to her face. So far this is the fifth time and that is still five too many. The dark figure of a man looms over her in a stance of great impatience, "Get moving if you still want to walk." She was starting to get tired of this man's empty threats. At least threaten her with something that was't so tempting, not being able to walk is not being able to work, and that would truly be a blessing.

The water show doesn't do much for intimidation anymore, not for Annora anyway. She would be the first to admit the first time you get caught the water works wonders on your resolve, freezing the heat of rage in to fear. She would laugh if she could see how fast she was on her feet the first time. How naive she was back then, only nine and forced to face the darkest changes in her world.

Now her only reaction to the chilling wake up call is a role of the eyes. She would love it if she slept with her mouth open to capture some of the valuable cold water, and any water period, but she still had that petty fear of swallowing bugs. Some habits seem impossible to escape. Fear of authority was a whole other thing. She knew that she had never feared authority as much as she should.

Just then it occurs to her that she should be acting like this was the first time that this had ever happened. She lets out a delayed yelp followed by a pathetic faked whimper hoping the guard would fail to notice her defiance. She lets her clumpy, died, black hair fall into her face, obscuring her bright blue eyes already surveying her surroundings. She slumps, her slim, lean figure in faked submission, attempting to hide the lean muscle to show only the protruding bone of a helpless beggar.

The guard sneers at her faked weakness and Annora wishes she could deliver a fierce sneer back. Alas, she knows that would only cost her. To show defiance would put her working in the mines deep below the earth, making it extremely hard to escape. She had done it before, but it was not an experience she wanted to repeat. She would have rather not be stuck here for the fifth time, but she had always known that it was only a matter of time in her line of work.

The guard roughly grabs her arm yanking her into an involuntary standing position. Lowering his head to her ear, "If you know what is good for you, you will get up the first time I tell you to." Annora shudders and nods, if only he knew that she could easily knock him out and run as far away from this place as possible. The only thing that stops her is that she isn't sure exactly which prison she is in. She can attest that each is very different on the inside.

The guard shoves her into the wall, face first, pinning her arm to the small of her back. The moan that escapes her lips is real. That hit will leave several bruises, but if she let a couple of bruises stop her, she wouldn't be here. The guard slaps on some electric cuffs and yanks her through the door into the annoyingly bright hallway, or would one call it a catwalk? One could think that they kept the walkways that way just to shock the prisoners, or to bring the massive structure into stark contrast with its never-ending pit that seems to be lined with thousands of cells. Annora wouldn't dare put it past them.

With every corner, curve, and step, Annora counts. She doubts that there would ever be a time when she needs to get back to her cell, but there might be time in which she needs a way out. The guard keeps a firm grip on her arm, never loosening his grip in the slightest. She would have to work hard to get away from him, or at least put some effort into it.

As her eyes adjust more fully to the light she notices all the other prisoners being escorted around. None of them bother to lift their heads to look around, already resigned to their fate. She can't help but wonder about the stories behind the faces. She almost always tries to quench the feeling, but she also knows that to do so she would lower herself to the same level of the guards. So, she wonders, she cries, and she attempts to break out as many as possible in her elaborate escapes.