Chapter 6: A Glimmer of Hope

Two painfully long years have crawled by, each day a relentless nightmare. That old man in the same cell, he's like a statue, never uttering a word. I've tried everything to get through to him, but it's like talking to a brick wall.

I've been no slouch during these two years, believe me. I've tried it all – escaping, figuring out the tunnels, even trying to tell these mutated beings apart. I even smuggled some crystals into my cell, hoping they'd spill their secrets, but no dice.

I've run through every idea in the book, from stuff I saw in anime, cartoons, and stories from school and college. Heck, I even got desperate enough to smear my own blood on the crystals and those weird symbols on my door, but nada. I whispered every phrase and shouted to any higher power that might be listening, but it's been like talking to a brick wall.

Each day, I've clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, I'd wake up from this crazy dream. My old life feels like a distant memory now.

But today, today's been different. These mutant creatures – or whatever they are – have been acting all jittery, like they've got ants in their pants. Two years here, and I've gotten so used to their behavior that I can tell something's off.

And then I figured it out. Hundreds of these creatures start marching in formation, led by a big, ugly, tentacled boss guy, with two humanoids flanking him. To be honest, I don't give a darn about their hierarchy. What I do care about is that today, I've gotten more lashings than I usually get in a month.

As they parade past, I feel this burning hatred for them. We're treated like cattle, like we're on display. Some of us get hauled away, while others just get straight-up offed. I can't figure out the rhyme or reason behind it, but it's a harsh reminder that I've got to find a way out of here.

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We're herded back to our mining spots, given the usual rusty buckets and pickaxes. Funny thing, I've actually gotten kinda good at mining, in a weird way. It's like a meditative dance – whack the wall, find a crystal. But today, something feels off.

I didn't even notice that the old man had moved away until it was too late. One second, I'm chipping away at the wall, and the next, I'm flat on my butt. Eardrums ringing, eyes stinging, I realize there's been a cave-in. It's a madhouse, with screams and panic all around. Dead bodies are everywhere, some still breathing, others squashed under the rubble.

But under all that chaos, I know I've got to move. Rocks are still falling, so I struggle to my feet. I end up slamming my head into the wall, and next thing I know, I'm out like a light.

When I finally wake up, I'm back in my cell. The ground's still trembling, and pebbles keep dropping. The old man's missing, I've got no clue what happened to him.

But I can't dwell on that now. This is the first glimpse of hope I've had in ages, and I can't let it slip through my fingers. I walk to the corner where the old man huddled, he was my silent partner in the mad house and he will sorely be missed. I send a silent prayer for the old man, hoping he's in a better place now.

I hope they don’t put me in with one of those slimy thingiies as a cell mate, those guys eat rock and poop everywhere. I was drawn away from my daydream when I noticed something on the wall where the old man sat. I can't believe my eyes. There are words etched into the stone: "Randy was here." I didn't even know his name, and I can't be sure if he speaks English. It's a gut punch, realizing he'd been right here next to me, suffering in silence never saying a word.

I start inspecting the wall more carefully, and in a corner, I feel a tiny bump. I would've missed it in this light, but desperation pushes me and I was feeling every inch with my hand.

I dig, my fingers bleeding, nails breaking, but I finally find it – a crystal, as big as my fist. Our regular crystals that we mine are like a third of my finger, this practically a giant. Under it, there's a message etched in the stone: "Throw, duck, and roll."

A grin spreads across my face. Patience isn't my strong suit, and I can't wait for the next mining trip. I'm going to use this crystal the first chance I get. But then I look at my mangled hand and instantly regret my earlier enthusiasm.