Chapter 12
I have thought for long enough.
Time for action.
In my contemplations, I’ve concluded the walls, door, and floor of this cage are all unyielding.
But every building has structural flaws.
I look upwards again, at the tiles above my head. My eyes fix on the centered canister light. Reinforced glass covers the bulb.
A weak spot.
As is the six-inch square ventilation grate set into the ceiling. Achilles' heel.
If I stand under the vent and reach up, even at full stretch, my hand falls short.
I tried jumping, but my fingers barely grazed the metal grid.
Not good enough.
So I will have to use the only tool provided to me; a steel toilet bolted into the concrete floor. It would have been simpler if the vent had been situated above the toilet, but unfortunately, that is not the case.
Time to work.
Bracing my back against the cold wall, I plant my heels against the rim of the bowl and pray for Theseus’s strength and Sisyphus’ perseverance. This is the boulder, and once moved, I will begin the Hero’s Journey.
I drive my legs forward.
My broken ribs scream.
And the metal pot rocks a little.
Reset and strike again.
And again.
Again.
Again.
One more surge of effort, and something gives.
Finally.
Another body blow and the toilet bolts shear away.
The accompanying rush of water is expected and unavoidable. I have no way to cut the supply. But I’d checked and made sure the cell door was sealed tight. No flood will flow into the outer corridor and bring attention.
Move faster, human.
Yes, minotaur.
Though guards have only been down on this level once since my arrival, my beast may sense something I cannot.
I heave the heavy steel unit toward the edge of the room, and step onto the rim.
Good.
Now I need to pry off the vent cover.
I sacrifice two fingernails in the process.
Pushing my hand inside the small egress, I feel around the cavity space.
Ah, as I had hoped. The ceiling tile is filled with fiberglass rather than reinforced wire. Good for muffling screams, but not for keeping monsters secure.
I grip the edge of the tiling then heave downward, bringing a section of the ceiling with me. Dust and insulation fibers fill the air.
I pause.
No alarms that I can hear. And no boots pounding down the corridor.
Continue.
I repeat the action until there is space enough to hoist myself up. My shoulders scrape against the crossbeams as I pull my body up into the crawlspace.
It’s a tight, suffocating fit, but I can drag my body along, slowly wriggling my way from joist to joist towards the girl.
The air is thick and hot. Just how I like it.
Finally, I find the vent above her cell and through the narrow slats, I see her—curled up and unmoving.
I wish I could speak aloud.
Warn her about the noise and debris that are about to happen.
But I can’t, so I must continue and hope she doesn’t get hurt in the process.
To enter her cage, I simply roll off the beam I’m lying on, onto the insulation. The weight of my body smashes through the tile immediately, and I land heavily on the little girl’s cell floor.
She doesn’t scream, just sits up and stares, eyes wide and unblinking.
Hurry now, human.
Yes.
I scoop her up, and boost her into the ceiling, pulling myself up a moment later. The girl hasn’t moved.
I don’t have an option but to tuck her into my body with one arm, and use the other to drag us both through the eighteen-inch-high crawlway. The only illumination is from the holes I've torn in the infrastructure, so my path needs to be moving away from the light.
Now, in this labyrinth of underfloor access, my minotaur finds the means to aid us.
Forward.
Forward.
Now left.
I move steadily.
It feels like many, many minutes pass.
My breath comes out in dry pants, and sweat has soaked through my clothing as my hand reaches out, finding a solid concrete wall.
This is where I’m supposed to be, I believe.
Where the minotaur led us.
My fingers grope blindly until a hollow sound echoes into the space. Metal. I feel around some more. What is this ? A frame with a hinge?
Running possibilities through my head, after a moment I understand and push the small metal door outwards.
A dim light floods into the crawl space, making my eyes water. Shifting forward on my stomach, I stretch my neck until I can see what’s on the other side of the hatch.
A large ventilation shaft.
A vertical ventilation shaft, complete with metal rungs that disappear upwards.
A way out.
Though there is a problem.
I will not fit through this exit.
But the girl can.
Yes.
I pull her up my body until we are face to face, then nod towards the opening.
Look. You can escape.
She stares at me, but doesn’t move. Doesn’t hear my thoughts. Of course not.
Gods.
It’s hard to make hand gestures in this tiny tunnel, but I do my best. At least this time I get a response. Her little body presses harder into mine.
She doesn’t want to go without me.
I cannot go with her.
Running scenarios through my mind, I quickly realize the priority is to keep the girl from being taken away to the unknown location. If I persuade her to climb this shaft, it won’t get her to freedom, but it will keep her hidden for now.
Minotaur?
The dark magic of the cells is beginning to leave my body. With time, I believe he will be able to manifest. But currently—no.
Climb out, child. Find somewhere to hide.
I work to keep my frustration under check, but it is difficult.
She needs instruction.
Speak, Ludo. Just fucking speak.
My mind knows the words I want to say, but can’t connect to my tongue.
SPEAK.
Suddenly, a memory sears into my brain. I shrink down to the ghost of the child I once was.
I am small. Smaller than the girl even.
I remember the smell of sun-warmed grass and the comforting scent of my mother as I watch a flock of birds overhead.
I remember the cold, dark agony of knife cuts on my skin and the stink of dark magic, as the laboratory lights hummed above me.
I remember the place I was taken to after.
The screaming—my own—or others.
The screams and screams until my voice broke.
The phantom pain of those knives and men burn into me.
I cannot let her history become mine. I cannot.
For the first time in an eternity, the silence in my throat feels like danger, not safety.
My mutism is a physical wall I must tear down.
“C-c-c…”
The consonant is a jagged blade, tearing at my throat. It feels like a betrayal of the silence that has kept me sane, but I force it out, along with the rest of the letters.
“C-c-climb.”
Panic flares—but the Minotaur’s voice is steady in the back of my mind.
Be calm, human. Speak.
I look at her again, seeing my own lost eyes reflected in her small, pale face.
“C-climb. Hide. I w-will…”
One last effort. For the girl, I give everything I have.
“F-f-find you.”
I beg her with my gaze and am rewarded with the tiny flame of determination that ignites in her eyes. She’s not a husk, she’s here with me, right now.
Her frail arms move, then a tiny hand traces my face. She gives an almost imperceptible nod and I pull her further along my body to the hatch, then watch as she crawls out into the void. One last look, then she starts to climb.
Sorry, little one, but for now you are on your own.
As I carefully close the access panel, I feel a strange, lightness. I gave her my words, and that gives her a chance.
And so, I begin my journey in reverse, dragging my heavy frame into the darkness.
As I move, I take care to fluff the insulation until it looks like no one has taken this path. Back and back I travel, moving on my stomach, feet first.
Next, I will lead the hunt away.
A place away from the Lumina-sucking spells of our cages.
Then my beast can emerge.
Eastwards, human.
Yes. Eastwards.
I will wait in the shadows until my rage has a monster fit to carry our retribution.