Ruth's Magpie

Chapter 12: Chains and Chain Breakers

(A/N: I wrote this chapter listening to "Chain Breaker" by Zach Williams, if anyone would like to follow suit. :) )

When I regained consciousness, it was noon outside. I had been unconscious for hours; she must have conked me hard. Edmund was gone. Tumnus was gone. And I was in Edmund's place.

The rusty chains that had held him now held me. The heavy shackles dug into my wrists and ankles, turning my fingers blue and making my feet feel numb. Despite the sunlight piercing the clouds outside, I shivered uncontrollably.

"She took my coat!" I exclaimed angrily. I instantly regretted my outburst. My head pounded from where she had struck me. I lifted my hand, with no small effort, and gingerly fingered the bump on my forehead. Panic seized me. My beanie was gone too! I gritted my teeth in pain and determination, fighting tears over the loss of my beloved beanie. I had to get out of here.

I first tested my range of motion. I could go no farther than a few feet in any direction. Too far out of reach of anything sharp enough to come remotely close to breaking the thick chains. I kicked the place where the chains hung on the wall as hard as I could. The ice didn't even crack. I tried again and again, kicking in different places and trying various methods of gaining force and momentum. Nothing worked.

I lay on my back, heaving for breath. I had to try something else. I examined the chains closely, but I didn't discover anything new. So I began to strain. I planted my feet against the wall and pulled my hands apart and away from the wall. I engaged my core and back and legs and pulled. I let it slack and yanked on them a few times. Then I began to pull again. Then I tried yanking again. All I accomplished after what seemed like eternity but was likely just a few hours was scraping up my wrists and exhausting myself.

"Oh, you idiot!" I chided myself. Hey, no one was around, so I was perfectly okay with talking to myself. It was somewhat comforting to hear something other than the rattling of chains against ice. "You could always run away with your hands still bound. Loosen the chains around your ankles!"

I stood to my feet, my legs wobbly from the effort. I stumbled forward slightly and almost fell flat on my face. I managed to catch myself, and I put my right foot forward, wiggling my ankle back and forth rapidly. When that accomplished nothing, I thrust my foot forward violently, much like I had done with my wrists. I lost my balance and landed square on my rear end. Pain licked up my back and sucked the air out of me. I saw stars.

When the pain passed, some minutes later, I stood up and tried again, stopping myself before I fell. A new idea dawned upon me then. Walking back to the wall, I sprinted forward, jumping when I reached my limits. No avail. I landed awkwardly on the ice, my arms getting caught beneath my torso and the right side of my head hitting the ice.

"At least I'll have matching bumps," I said, trying to make myself laugh despite the pain. It didn't work. I crawled pathetically back to the wall and cradled my head in my hands. I was drained. I was tired. I was hurting. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. I lapsed into a long, light sleep.

When I awoke the next day, my nose was stuffy and my throat burned. But I tried again to loosen the chains by kicking, pulling, yanking, straining, tugging... you name it, I tried it. I would go at it for an hour, then rest for a while, then try again. The skin around the shackles began to crack and tear, but it wasn't until I began to see my own blood pool on the ground that I stopped fighting and sat back against the wall. I felt weak. I felt defeated. I decided I could try to take a nap and get back to it. Work smarter, not harder, right?

🦁

I didn't awaken until it was dark outside. I was gripped by a sudden, despairing panic. I felt sweat break out on my forehead as a sense of fear overtook me. I trembled.