ETTING 
OME 
O 
LFANDRA
Anton's Journey chapter 9 - Fortress of Wood
ETTING OME O LFANDRA
Anton
just blinked at the spot where mouse had been. One moment he'd been there...
the next he wasn't, replaced instead by a few air bubbles on the surface
of the water. Hmm...Bubbles on the surface of the water... his mind paused,
before leaping to the logical conclusion that mouse was actually submerged
at this very moment.
"Shit!"
Scrambling
down the rest of the dirt bank towards the murky waters he surveyed the
surface. Taking only a moment to think for his own safety, Anton immediately
launched himself into the swampy murk. It was dark, filled with dirt, mud
and rotting vegetable matter. He could barely see two millimetres in front
of his face, such was the gloom. And no sign of Mouse. Frantically swimming
around, he thrashed in the water. What the hell had just happened? He saw
a few air bubbles drift past his face... then he realised that his own
lungs were rapidly depleted of air. Taking one last look around, Anton
surfaced.
His
lungs burning, his fur freezing, Anton cleared the muck from his eyes as
he inhaled a deep breath. He was not where he had dived in... quite a long
way downstream it would seem, as the result of his blind thrashing. But
in his peripheral vision, he glimpsed a rustle in the bushes as a branch
was knocked aside on the bank. Reacting quickly, he pulled himself ashore
and clambered up the bank. Any sign of movement had already gone, but he
drove into the damp trees and bushes nonetheless. Though the thick damp
air and tangy smell of rotting vegetable matter was strong, he eventually
caught wind of that which he was looking for; Mouse. Locked on the
scent now, he pressed onwards, stepping over branches and pushing through
leaves. Whatever had taken Mouse, it knew the area well, for Anton could
find no sign of any disturbance along this route, though the scent was
present. This also indicated that Mouse wasn't conscious at this point,
as the wiry rodent would certainly be making more of a fuss right now.
Gritting his teeth, he crawled under a low-lying bough, and tried to understand
the speed at which things had just taken a turn. What creatures dwelt in
this remote area anyhow? Malicious ones it seemed. Perhaps they wanted
a meal, and were making a snack out of Mouse at this very moment.
He
hoped saving Mouse's hide would not become a hobby.
Slowly,
the trees thinned and he stepped out into a wide, secluded clearing in
the swamp. Standing in the middle of this was a rickety old shack, the
wood rotten, without windows. The straw thatched roof was full of holes,
and the doorway was hanging off it's hinges. It looked like it had been
made from wood taken right from this swamp! But who would build a home
in a place such as this? And more importantly, what did they want with
Mouse? Casting a cautious look about him, he stepped forwards towards the
structure.
However,
his powers of observation were lacking somewhat, as had he looked more
closely, he would have noticed the vine which stretched out across the
opening of the clearing. He did not however, and hadn't taken more than
two paces when he tripped over it with a
grunt. As he fell down, he was surprised to see
the grass slip away, leaving a gaping hole with large, pointed wooden spikes.
He could guess what had happened. Leaving little time to spare he flung
out his arms - leaving him spread across the pit, jammed in place barely
with his legs and arms. The tip of one of the stakes tickled at his abdomen
when he breathed. Sparing a thought for the ingenuity of the device, Anton
pushed with all the arm strength he had, sending him flying
backwards and collapsing on the edge of the trap.
Now that he knew it was there, he nimbly jumped across it, and found himself
at the doorway of the hut.
Having
learned his lesson from his encounter with the trap just passed, Anton
was more cautious in pushing open the door. Going back to the pit and wriggling
one of the long wooden spikes free, he returned to the seemingly broken
doorway. Holding it at arms length, he gently nudged aside the door.
The
crunch that followed was sickening.
Two
long blades concealed in the shadows swung down and split the stick in
two, and it fell to the floor from Anton's grasp with a clatter. Whoever
built this place, security was their top priority.
Annoyed
now, Anton scouted around the outside of the building, growling oaths.
He found his unliklely entrance in the form of a window, which was actually
boarded over. The rotting wood was ripped aside easily as his talons drove
into them, and he peered inside the damp murky darkness beyond.
He
hadn't learned his lesson after all.
Taking
the merest moment to look for signs of any dangers, he swung himself
inside the hole. But in the blackness, what he didn't see was that the
floor had been removed, giving way to a gaping pit. Swearing and cursing
as he went, he slipped and skidded down a chute, to his landing.
A
dank cell, where he would find his imprisonment.