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“It was rather foolish of them to leave so many things around for me to get into,” Snow whispered to her partner, shoving materials from the random stuff that their jailers had left laying around into her backpack. “And even more foolish of them to take my clothing and tools, but not my backpack.”
Malroth snorted, whispering a response. “They probably aren’t expecting you to be as much trouble as you are, Miss ‘Helpful Builder’. But I know you- you’re going to drive them crazy, and we’ll get the hell outta here as soon as we get the chance.”
“Get back to your cells,” a skeletal jailer yelled at them. “This area is off-limits to prisoners.”
The pair scurried away, back to their cell block, but rather than returning to their cells, they began to pull apart crates, Malroth tossing the wood he collected to Snow, to be tucked away in her seemingly bottomless bag. The pair even managed to pull up some floorboards before returning to their cells when they heard the telltale rattling of bones that warned them the guards were coming back.
She stowed some of their findings in various holes in her cell, and left the rest in her bag, knowing that storing all of their things in one place would be a terrible idea- after all, what if their jailers decided to take her book-bag? If their materials were spread out, they'd be safer.
After hiding their materials, Snow opened her book, reading back through the mix of neatly printed text and her own scribbled notes- her handwriting was atrocious!- on monsters. She didn’t have anything to write with, but she committed what she wanted to add to the page on skeletons to memory- hopefully she wouldn’t forget.
‘Well, at least we’re alive,’ the young woman thought, laying down on the pile of straw that was her bed. ‘I hope they didn’t destroy my armor, I really liked that armor- and those dragon scales were a pain to get.’
Exhausted from working the farm and getting into trouble all day, she fell asleep within minutes.
———
On waking up in her cell on the second day, she thought for an instant that perhaps it was all a dream. Maybe she was sleeping on the pile of straw she had used as a bed in Furrowfield, maybe she had actually made it there and Skelkatraz was just a nightmare…
But then her thoughts were interrupted by the bone-rattling screech of one of the guards, yelling for everyone to get moving.
She exited her cell and did as she was told, watering the cabbages she had planted the day before and silently plotting, waiting for an escape opportunity to appear.
No chances came on that day, but Snow and Malroth stuck close together, and she shared her plans with him when she had a bit of down time.
Snow slept restlessly, and early in the morning of the third day, storms rolled in, preventing the prisoners from doing their normal work.
Instead, they were told to clean their cell block top to bottom, which gave the two the opportunity to pocket a few more random things, but not to escape, and they were shooed to their cells as soon as the area was clean.
They both slept restlessly, the booming thunder and flashes of lightning keeping them awake.
On the fourth morning in the prison, the storm had finally ended. She woke up, stretched, and paged through her book, considering if it would be worth attempting to make lock picks with the wood she had. She hadn’t made tools like that before, and it probably wouldn’t be worth it with how easily broken the wood she had was.
As the guards unlocked their cells, she scurried out as soon as they weren’t looking, Malroth following after, just as the two had planned.
They climbed around, sneaking over to different parts of the prison to collect things.
In one area, Snow found an axe, which she tucked into the void of her bag, knowing that it would be too suspicious to give it to Malroth. Mal found a small pouch of medical herbs, and tucked it away in a pocket before the pair met up once more, making their way to roll call just barely on time.
After roll call, the pair headed to the farm, where Snow was given a torch and told to light the hay in the center of the cabbage patch on fire.
Though she kept her face emotionless, inside she was cackling as she lit it on fire, knowing full well what would happen. She had always been a bit too fascinated by fire for her own good, and it was worth it to get her hands on the torch- it would be useful, if they didn’t take it back.
And really, fire was one of the most useful tools they could have foolishly given her- it was so very powerful and multifaceted, useful for both creation and destruction.
Trotting back over to the priest, the robed monster congratulated her, ever so pleased with the destruction that she had wrought.
Though some may have felt bad, she knew that creation and destruction went hand-in-hand, and you couldn’t have one without the other. If she had to destroy some stuff to get out of here alive, then she would- she’d do whatever it took to get herself and Mal out of this place alive.
She cheerfully argued with the priest, explaining that she could always plant more cabbages. They laughed, commenting about how bold her words were, before telling her to take the rest of the day off. Specifically, to spend it staring into the darkest recesses of her soul. Lovely.
She grabbed Malroth’s hand, tugging him behind a rock to discuss what they could do with their time.
He complained about the stupidity of the Children of Hargon before saying that they should ask the old lady- Molly, that was her name, Snow remembered- about what the heck was going on here.
Snow agreed, and the pair went off to search for the veteran prisoner.
When they found the old woman, she took a single look and knew exactly what had happened. “They made you burn your cabbages, didn’t they, dear.”
Snow nodded.
“That’s what all this talk of ‘rehabilitation’ and ‘rebirth’ boils down to: making you see how futile all your acts of creation really are,” Molly explained. “Creation leads to attachment, which leads to fear, which leads to hate, and then, suffering. It’s why they believe creation to be evil, and why they’re so determined to spread that belief.”
Malroth growled. “Ha! Well, if they’re so big on destruction, then how about we smash their skulls in and get the hell outta here?”
Molly sighed sadly. “It won’t do you any good. I told you before that nobody’s ever escaped this place alive, right?”
The pair nodded.
“That’s because there are only two ways off this rock: death, or selling your heart and soul to the Children of Hargon.”
Mal snarled again. “If I ever meet this ducking Hargon guy, I’m going to have a word with him about his damn kids! Who the hell is he, anyway?!”
“The High Priest Hargon is the father of all destruction,” Molly explained. “Though they say that no one in this world has ever seen him in the flesh…”
“So you’re saying these damn monsters are so dumb that they worship someone they’ve never ever seen? That’s ducking stupid.”
“That’s enough ,” Molly said. “Stop asking questions and just accept things for what they are. Eventually you’ll get used to it and become numb to everything… just like me…”
The pair rested on a bench for the rest of the afternoon before returning to their cells, hungry and bored. Snow curled up in her straw bed, swearing to escape as soon as possible.
On the fifth day, it began much like most of the others with roll call, and then farm work (planting more seeds). The pair were given free time after planting, and they asked around about escaping, but learned nothing from their fellow prisoners working on the farm, so they went to speak to Molly.
She told them it was hopeless, and to give up on escaping, but then aided them in befriending a slime that had interest in joining them.
The slime was small, blue, and, well, slimy. It wasn’t really any different in appearance from the slime monsters you might see elsewhere.
Snow named it Rimuru, and gave it monster munchies to cement their friendship.
The two humans and the slime headed back to their cells.
Before they separated, Malroth whispered to Snow that tonight would be the night. They’d escape, and if the slime was helpful, then so be it.
(This was where I involuntarily found myself going “time to hyperfocus on getting the heck out of here, this is mildly interesting but I want Freedom™️ . Hence the abrupt ending. )