Awakening

In the middle of nowhere, lies fields filled with a numerous variety of flowers… only a forever extending flower field appears to be when the landscaped is viewed from the sky. Fields of flowers cover the dirtied soil… occasionally remnants of wreaked and rusted armour lay scatter across the fields.

The fragments of these armour… is a reminder of the land’s chaotic past…

***

Within these fields hides something virtually hidden to the naked eye… almost buried in the fields which extend beyond the horizon is a small rectangle barred opening.

This opening is almost completely covered by thriving vegetation. The area surrounding the opening indicates that the opening itself is more descended into the dirt. Thus, somewhat forming a drain that collects water and produce from the vegetation when it rains…

The vegetation produces strange, oval looking fruits that glows yellow… perhaps due to the absorbance of the sun’s radiance. Yummy.

The small, barred window situated in the roof of the cell-like room underneath the fields, which produces the sole source of light for the prisoner trapped within. Thin rays of sunshine pass through the gaps and dimly illuminate a ragged figure.

There, inside the cell lies a pitiful prisoner of war. He sits motionlessly against the bricked wall with his head drooped low. The overgrown hair cover his lifeless eyes. Signs of beatings marked by distinctive scars are printed across his body. He wears a dirtied white shirt loosely, it’s smudged with excrement and other accumulated waste. No other clothing exists… Just his ragged shirt. Finally, on the bricked floor lies a round, flaky and orange metal ball that is connected to multiple chains which binds the prisoner’s wrists.

A accurate description of a dead prisoner one may think…

However despite his initial pitiful appearance, it is clear that his physical muscle physique is maintained well. His body is yet to rot, which indicates persisting life against initial impressions of what he appears to be. He lives. Then he speaks.

“Legacy.. oh how I miss you…” he whispers in a rasped voice. This he reminds himself everyday since his imprisonment.

Eerie silence descends once again. He remains alone in this cell. Perhaps alone in this extensive structure that he is in.

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Abruptly, the rattling sounds of the corroded shackles shatter the silence as he strains his cuffs. His wrists inflamed discoloured from months of imprisonment and countless attempts of escaping from at least the shackles.

Another day of struggling in the hopes that these rusted shackles break apart and thus, fulfilling the first requirement in his long awaited escape.

He puts his weight into the chains and heaves with all his might. No change.

He then tries using a method he calls ‘Wrist Breakers’- perhaps exactly what is sounds like. He pauses his struggling and loosens the chains. Next, he takes a deep breathe through his nostrils and prepare himself for what will come next- sudden, powerful and subsequent tugs.

“May the gods grant me strength and fortune in ventures for freedom. Regus.”

Due to the injuries inflicted from the ‘Wrist Breakers’ method, he only attempts it at most, once a month. Otherwise, his wrists inflame in agony… a feeling he is much too used to…

He grunts and clenches his teeth- he hopes for a miracle…

But miracles do not happen without reason, nor are they plentiful. Conversely, to the receiver of the miracle, it may seem as if great fortune had been granted by a higher being. Perhaps someone who is lucky will possess greater luck. Therefore more chances to receive this blessing which he craves for.

“Ok. Have faith in the gods. Three. Two. One… pull!” He exclaims.

In response to his pulls, the chains recoil back and blasts him back into the concrete wall… back to his starting position.

Upon impacting with the wall, he slides and sits cringing from the agonising pain that swells in his wrists.

“Ah.. such nostalgia to feel this sensation again… god damn it… another bust attempt!” He lashes out at his chains.

The pain in his wrists exponentially surges due to additional damage.

“Argh! Ok! Ok… I’ve got it. No more for now. No more.” He reassures himself.

He retreats to lying slack against the wall. To ponder what to do… how to escape from this desolate prison.

A sudden side thought distracts his train of thought, he gazes through the thin gaps in the ceiling and already, the sky has darkened greyish blue. A chilling, but calming breeze passes through the gaps. The wind, to the prisoner, is akin to applying ice to his inflamed wounds.

He rejoices while it lasts.

A moment of requiem to reflect on what has happened thus far… On what has been lost for all eternity…

Tears dare to leak as he relives the multitude of flashbacks of his friends’ death and others which he could consider close. There’s never a moment when he does not recall their gruesome ends.

“May the gods bless them in the afterlife… Regus” he repetitively chants into the night. He slowly dozes off into deep sleep and while doing so, remembers to eat his daily fruit and drink from a puddle of water near him. The puddle created by breaking enough floor to create a crevice for water storage purposes.

He begins to descend into a slumber. To recover energy for tomorrow’s goals of breaking free…

‘Crack-’

He feels something loosing…

‘Thud’.

Sluggishly, he shakes off the lighter feelings and proceeds to make himself as comfortable as possible. His sleepy brain gradually enters rest and he tucks in for the night.

“I’ll check tomorrow… Zzz.. tomorrow I will try methods... and for the tomorrows after that as well. ” He murmurs to himself mentally.

All for tomorrow. All for tomorrow…