Day #13, by Amber Averay (a continuation from day #12):
Pressing my palms flat against the flimsy door, I gave a gentle, tentative push. It did not move, but the rickety frame around it creaked and groaned, as if even that slight pressure was enough to cause it distress.
Hope flared in my chest, and I shoved harder. The tortured wood gave a pained squeal, and I braced my legs on the floor, relaxed my arms, sucked in a deep, fortifying breath, and choked down the coughs that threatened to erupt. Then – I pushed, putting the strength of my legs, back, and shoulders into it. It wasn’t much, weak as I was, yet was enough to cause the door to grate open, the warped frame near disintegrating into a shower of splinters.
Without the doorjamb supporting it the door itself fell to the floor with a muffled crash, a cloud of gritty dust billowing into my face and wrenching a sneeze from me.
Dammit, who heard that? I’d landed on my knees beside the rusted hinges, and with a frantic glance I scrabbled to my feet – nearly tripping over them in my haste. Clumsy fool! Be calm, be cool – believe you’re getting out of here!
On the far side of the narrow room gleaming embers glowed in a dying fire, offering little illumination – only enough to have the low light glint off metal hanging on the wooden walls.
Oh, no…
I gulped, slowly turning and taking in each glimmering sheen. Sharp hooks, sinister machetes, claw-tipped whips, glittering spears…
My heart plummeted to my feet, and I felt sick.
Where am I?
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