Morning all, I hope you had a great weekend. It is time to dive into the first writing prompt of the week. Are you ready? Good then wiggle those fingers to get them warmed up and let’s dive in. Timers set to fifteen minutes and off we go…
This was interesting. I like the set up. It is something I will have to research more before I sit down and write it out, but I like it. I think this is also probably not the beginning of the story. I suspect this is somewhere towards the middle or at least after he is forced to leave his home. Unless that part ends up being told in bits and pieces throughout this story. I don’t know. I’d have to sit down and think it through first.
Monday, May 9th: At the first opportunity, he ran.
At the first opportunity, he ran. He could hear nothing behind him for a while and knew that he would likely not be noticed until there was a head count. That would occur as the prisoners were shuffled in through the gates. Each would be clicked off on the tally sheet. They would be marked the same way any other simple count was done, with no regard for who it was that was actually being counted. If someone was substituted in his place no one would notice anything different.
Only when the numbers didn’t match would they be recognized as individuals. They would be lined up and the individual numbers painted on their uniforms checked to make sure the count was off. Then each one would be checked. No names were ever used.
As many of the prisoners were well connected it was a system that oddly enough was designed to treat everyone equally and allow no one to curry favor. The fact that it was dehumanizing was seen as a side benefit. ‘And at least we are all dehumanized equally,’ he thought.
It was only after his specific number turned up missing that a search would ensue. He didn’t think they would search too hard. At least not at first. The prison was built in the most isolated part of the kingdom. It was placed in an area that was never really settled and was left to the wild things of the territory because the wild things defied all attempts at human control. The environment was considered an added deterrent. The only safe passage was the road.
In fact keeping the road as a safe passage was what his work crew had been out here doing today. The fact that the road only led to the prison and was only kept clear so more prisoners could be brought in was often viewed as a joke by the guards. The fact that keeping the road clear often reduced the number of prisoners so that the prison never became over crowded was another joke the guards liked to tell. No one ever left the prison. Guards rotated in and out, each taking a stint at the facility, often as a punishment for wrong doing elsewhere. Prisoners came in, were processed and eventually were cremated, their ashes unceremoniously dumped behind the facility.
While prisoners often thought of escape, any who tried it only hastened their own deaths. To leave the road or prison facility was a death sentence. After his number was noted as missing a swift but not thorough search would be made. Mostly it would be a few guards walking along the road and looking for signs of his demise. Not finding him they would report back and it would be assumed that nothing remained of his body. He would be listed as dead and life would go on.
What no one at the prison knew, and in fact had never been a part of his official file was that he grew up out here in the hinterlands. While it was viewed as unpopulated wasteland. There were pockets of people who still survived. His family and their small close-knit tribe had been one of them. Events necessitated he leave for a time, but his skills had not been lost. Survival was easier in a group, but even thought it would be difficult, he knew he could survive on his own for long enough to make his escape.
Ten til Midnight 