The Prisoner - a blurb, part 1The steps leading down to the dungeons were worn smooth at the edges, the stone sleek and slippery in the ill-lit dankness below the guardhouse. Further down, I knew, were cages for the most dangerous of criminals. Murderers, rapists, kidnappers... the sort of filth spawned all too often in overcrowded cities like Kingsvale, they were all in the ordinary prisons of the guard's tower. It took something truly vile to end up in the windowless pit below.I'd known what I was getting into by signing up for the guard. I'd spent my whole life in the less-savory parts of town. Already in the few weeks I'd spent on duty there had been brawls, break-ins, and a brothel full of very young girls. That last had left me more than heartsore, a badly twisted knee relegating me to orderly service in the prisons until I was well enough to once again patrol the night streets.Staring down into the gloom of the descending passage, though, I somehow felt that my time spent here would be even more
in hindsight......and the silly part is that I never learned a thing about love.No great revelations for me, no sudden insight, no ah-ha!I just knew it all, all along.
Key and Coward -FlyffHiki- 1There's nothing like cold terror to start off the day.Flyffux knew this well, having developed a keen sense of impending doom to precede the arrival of his worst nightmare. It had been some time since that particular shiver shot up his spine and he supposed he had it coming. The past months spent holed up with stacks of intelligence reports and his own writings had been suspiciously peaceful.The chubby Nobody's eyes flew open at the first tingle and he shot out of bed as if pulled on strings. His cramped quarters were full of the usual shadows in the thin early-morning light streaming in from under his door but he knew they held no peril for him. Oh no, what had frightened him so was no creature of darkness, but rather very much of "light," so to speak. Flyffux shuffled toward the door of his windowless room and peered out, pointed ears pricked for the tell-tale clink of chains. With baited breath he waited, stomach churning and a trickle of sweat running down his temple.