Eight - Deep In The Earth
When Willow gained her consciousness again, she found herself in a dark room. For a few moments, she saw nothing but darkness. She couldn't even tell if there was somebody else or something else was in the room with her. Immediately, she knew where she was.
Coldridge prison.
Her heart sank. 'Oh no . .' she nearly whispered, feeling a lump in her throat, a wetness in her eyes. 'Oh no, no, no . .'
She pressed her closed fist to her forehead, tears streaming down her face, her lips bent in a deep frown.
Where did the Overseers even find the Bone Charm? Who had put it in her room? Who could want to see her hanged?
She barely even spoke to people. She never had any friends. She was never particularly rude to anybody either.
What's the use? voice in her head spoke. It doesn't matter who it was. Not anymore. Whoever it is, they got you. You're going to die.
She shook her head slowly, wiping the tears from her face. She sat up with difficulty, and looked down at the wooden cot she had been lying on. A small rat scurried towards her foot in the darkness, and she pulled her legs onto the cot carefully. She looked at the cell bars, and through them she could see a metal corridor, and a number of other cells. She had visited the prison twice before for the Academy, and from her experience she recognized the corridor as that of the second floor's.
She buried her face in her folded legs, her eyes wide open, staring at the darkness. Looking at her shoe, and remembered the note Corvo had thrown at her.
She dug her fingers into her shoe and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. She read the words over and over again, trying to build up hope, telling herself that Corvo would really come and get her.
Tears rolled down her cheek again, no sound escaping from her throat. She folded it up and shoved it into her shoe again, and slowly got up. She walked to the bars and looked outside. On the other side, Willow saw another cell, and inside was a curled up form, rolled in layers of blankets on the cot. She could only see a little white hair, and was certain that it was a man. She wiped her cheeks clean and poked her head out. From the right end of the corridor, Willow saw a prison guard patrolling. He suddenly looked at her.
She pulled her head back in, watching him walk towards her cell. He looked tired, bored.
He used the hilt of his sword to hit one of the bars of her cell, glaring at her.
'So you're the little missy they all keep talkin' bout,' he said, giving her a once-over. His eyes lingered for a few seconds on her silver pocket watch. Willow dug her hand into her pocket, holding it in. She gave him a genuine look.
'Fresh into prison. All dressed in leather boots an' fancy suits,' He shook his head slowly several times, like he pitied her. 'Better be careful at eat times an' play times, missy. A fish out'a water that oughta kick the bucket in seven days, not many folks in 'ere take that as a "keep away" sign.' He looked at her sharply. 'Know what I mean?'
Willow flushed, feeling intensely feminine. 'Yes,' She replied, nodding.
"'Good,' he lingered for a few seconds, looking her over and over again. 'What could you've done,eh?' he said, almost to himself. There was an edge to his words, something that hinted his experience in the prison, his years of seeing criminals of various classes and creeds, being pushed into cells, being hanged and shot. He knew that half of them had been innocent, set into a death trap by the the scumbags that called themselves "Elite".
Looking at Willow, he immediately knew she was innocent. He shook his head in pity, hit the cell bar again, and commanded loudly, 'No poking yer heads out.'
He looked at the other cell, and left.
Willow sat back on the wooden cot. She pulled out her silver pocket watch and unclipped it from the hem of her vest. The patterns on it were beautiful, and to anybody it looked like an expensive silver jewelry. On the inside, it was plain copper. Tying the metal chain into a loose knot, she carefully hid the watch under her pillow. She unbuttoned her vest, and laid it out on the cot beneath her. Her vest was mainly what made her dress look expensive, and she couldn't afford to make that impression on the other prisoners. She slowly undid her bun, letting her hair fall loosely on her shoulders.
Leaning to the wall, she gently stroked a wisp of her hair over and over, watching the dark roof. Another lump formed in her throat, and before she could stop herself, tears rolled down her cheeks again.
'She has been set up, I tell you!' Sokolov exclaimed, walking in large, heavy strides, his hands swinging at his sides showing the full extent of his anger.
Corvo said nothing as he walked beside him, his face gaunt.
'I have known her for three years, and notem once/em did I find her doing any sort of deranged activity!' He yelled, walking down the stairs from the lab.
'Stop, Sokolov,' Corvo said to him, following him in quick paces. 'We have to sort this out carefully. You cannot just walk into court and yell at everybody.'
"Sokolov stopped abruptly and looked up at him, bewildered. 'So I just sit here all day and let it go?!' He shouted. 'You don't understand, Corvo! They have not only insulted my apprentice, but my Academy as well! How dare they sentence her to death?!'
'Stop. I know this seems outrageous, but it will not work like this,' Corvo said to him. 'I consulted you because I need you to defend Willow in court. But if this is your point, it will never work, Sokolov.'
'Oh, is that so?!' Sokolov exclaimed louder. 'What is your brilliant mind up to, may I dare ask?!'
Corvo gave him a meaningful look. 'Go back to your study,' he ordered. 'I'll call you when you are needed.'
'Are you ordering me?!'
'Yes. Go, now. You're not helping.'
'How dare you!'
'I trust you haven't forgotten the kennels back at Hound Pits.'
Sokolov stopped dead for a moment.
'I will call for you when you're needed in court. Make a fair argument,' Corvo said to him, and walked downstairs.
He had to make a great plan. He knew now that whoever had put the Bone Charm in Willow's room had been paid a great amount, and he was suspicious about a few people, mainly Earnest Lacquert who had set up the interrogation in the first place.
He knew that there was a more than fair chance of him getting caught, but it didn't even cross his mind once that Willow could get caught up.
Now he had to get her out, and he had to do it within seven days.
Corvo went into his room and locked the door behind him. He paced the floor again and again, making up a plan in his mind.
He had to get in contact with someone that worked in the prison. He had to make an indirect line to be able to communicate with Willow and direct her.
He could ask Geoff Curnow for that.
He had to get at least two prison guards on his side, and he didn't mind bribing them. He needed to carry out her escape from the inside.
'Corvo?' A familiar voice distracted him, followed by three knocks. He opened the door to find Piero.
He was wearing a brown vest, buttoned up neatly. His expression was monotonous as always, and his glasses reflected the light too brilliantly.
'May I have a word?' He asked.
Corvo nodded and let him in. He closed the door behind him, still thinking about his plan.
'You seemed to have upset Sokolov a little,' Piero said. 'He constantly grumbles on about showing you your place.'
'Did I?' Corvo uttered half-mindedly.
'He probably deserved it, my guess,' Piero mumbled. 'Now about Willow.'
'I'm thinking,' Corvo said, finally looking at him. 'I just need contact with a prison guard . .'
'Prison guards?'
'Yes. Then it'll be much easier to sneak her out of that place.'
'Sneak her out of the prison?'
Corvo nodded. 'I may need your help, Piero.'
'With a plan?'
Corvo nodded.
'Why, Corvo,' he said, shaking his head slowly. 'You underestimate yourself.'
Corvo said nothing, because he knew where this was heading. He had been trying to avoid this.
Piero settled his spects.
'All you need is your mask.'
Willow had a hard time trying to sleep. Somewhere on the cot, there was a small pointy nail that kept pricking her shoulder, but she couldn't see it in the darkness.
She sat up after several failed attempts and simply looked at the corridor.
She could hear two guards joking around and laughing, accompanied by the loud snoring of one of the prisoners. The place smelled even worse at night, with the rats pooping in corners. The stench from the toilet seemed to be getting more and more unbearable.
Her stomach was grumbling, and she couldn't help but think of food.
Not taking her eyes off the door, she dug out her pocket watch and saw that the time was nine. The corridors were darker compared to day time.
Suddenly she heard the sounds of metal plates and cell doors being opened. They were giving out food to the prisoners.
Willow put the watch back in its place and looked at the door in anticipation.
After a few moments, two guards walked to her door, looking inside. Neither of them was the prison guard from before.
'Hello, lady,' The first one drawled, posing a crooked grin. 'We got your food!'
Willow tensed up looking at their faces.
The second guard unlocked the door, allowing the first one to step in. He held her plate in his hands, and harshly put it on the floor.
He looked at Willow and grinned again, looking her over.
'Come on now,' He called, 'We're gonna come back in fifteen minutes for the plate, girlie. If it's not empty by then, it's going in the trash. No second servings, no extra food. Now be a good girl,' He grinned again, and then the both of them left, locking the door behind them.
Willow took the plate in her hands, and saw a stale, rough roll of bread, and a metal glass of dirty water. She could even see something moving in the water.
Putting the glass aside, she devoured the roll of bread, even though it tasted like mud.
Her stomach was still half-empty. She walked to the door, stepping into the light.
Pouring some of the water into her palm, she wiped her face twice, and looked out into the corridor. In the opposite cell, the old man with white hair was awake, chewing lazily on his bread.
He noticed her looking at him, and weakly raised a hand.
Willow was slightly surprised, but nonetheless, she waved at him.
He put his plate aside, and stood up with a lot of effort. He limped to the cell door, and spoke something that she could not hear.
'Excuse me?' Willow asked humbly.
'Why are you here?' He asked her, holding a bar.
She didn't know how to answer that question. She said nothing, looking at him blankly.
'I . . . well, I stole silverware from my master,' She finally said. It was better to lie and give him a valid reason, because the truth was complicated.
'Ah,' He nodded grimly. 'Whatever you say.'
Willow flushed. 'And you?' she asked him.
'I didn't pay my taxes,' He replied, with a shrug. 'Third time I'm in for that.'
'That's it?' Willow uttered, almost to herself. 'For how long are you staying?'
He moved his fingers weakly in the air, and said, 'Three months, maybe.'
'Three months?' Willow repeated, appalled. 'Three months for not paying taxes?'
He shrugged again. 'Not that me staying in prison affects anyone. I have no family and all that, so basically for me prison is . . free food, I guess.'
Willow's lips curled into a wry smile.
'What about you?' He asked. 'Any family?'
Willow shook her head. 'No one,' she mumbled.
'Back into your beds!' A prison guard yelled from the end of the corridor, ringing a very noisy bell. 'If I find anybody out'a their beds, they goin' for and extra round of cleanin' tomorrow!'
'Good night,' The older man said to her, getting back into his bed. Willow smiled, lingering at the door for a few seconds, thinking about her mother, her childhood days with her.
Then she slowly retired to the wooden cot.
Corvo opened the very familiar metal door to the hound pits pub, and stepped in. It was already past closing time, but he had sent Samuel a message through one of Curnow's guards asking him to leave the door open.
The place smelled too cozy for him to match the memories of his time spent there.
There was a soft yellow flame in the fireplace, and the whole air smelled of burning wood, wine and cooked meat. Usually the combination of the three odors would be too strong for any place, but in here, the fragrance of the polished wood and fireplace seemed to mellow down and mingle with the sweet smell of wine, together making an odor that relaxed his nerves whenever he inhaled. The place was dim, with two lamps lighted on the counter. There was another small blob of golden flame, which came from a white candle on one of the tables. Samuel sat in front of the candle, smoking a cigar. He turned back and looked at Corvo, and put out his cigar in the ash tray.
'Well, I'm guessing you're in trouble again, huh?' He said, standing up. Walking to the bar counter, he said, 'Want me to fetch you a drink?'
'Yes,' Corvo replied, sitting down at the counter.
Samuel went behind the counter and pulled out a half-full bottle of whiskey. He pulled out a glass, occasionally looking up at Corvo.
'May I ask what you're here for?' Samuel queried. 'I'm guessing it's something illegal again?'
'I need to get someone out of prison, and I have six days,' Corvo said, taking the glass that Samuel handed to him.
'What are they in for?'
'She was set up,' Corvo said. 'Someone put a bone charm in her room and the Overseers found it.' He drank his whiskey, keeping his eyes on one of the lamps.
'So what d'you need my help for?' Samuel asked, resting his elbows on the wooden counter.
Corvo put his glass down, staring at the mark on his hand.
He could feel blood again, see people dying. And he knew that more of them were going to die soon.
He folded his hands on the counter, and looked at Samuel. His face was firm, but something in his eyes hinted fear, hesitation.
'I need it,' He finally said, unable to bring up any more words.
Samuel looked down, and Corvo knew that he had understood.
'You got a proper plan you'll carry out anytime soon?' Samuel asked.
'No. I still need to plan it out,' Corvo answered.
Samuel nodded.
Corvo's secret was buried deep under the Earth, safe in a wooden chest in the backyard of the pub. It was behind the shed, and looked just like a clean piece of mowed lawn.
Samuel led Corvo to the patch of land, and dug in with his shovel. Corvo watched as every handful of mud fell away, and his eyes flashed a twinkle when the shovel hit a hard surface.
It was a new moon night, so the entire place was pitch dark. The only source of light was the lamp that Samuel had brought with him.
Samuel bent down and cleared the mud off of the wooden surface, and brought the lamp above it. The golden light revealed a deep brown chest, and Corvo bent down on one knee, his eyes fixed on it. He pulled the chest out, and put it down beside the hole.
'Here,' Samuel said, handing out a rusted key. Corvo hesitated for a moment, and his hand stopped in mid air.
Samuel observed his expression, the strange darkness that hovered in his eyes.
'Sometimes, Corvo,' he said aloud, 'We all have to confront our inner demons.'
Corvo looked up at him, listening intently.
'People have different ways of doing it,' He continued. 'Dark times require desperate, dark measures. You, my friend, ought to know this better than anybody else.'
He handed out the key again, and Corvo left his hand there for a few seconds. Then he nodded, and slowly took it in his hands.
He unlocked the chest, and opened it.
There it was, staring blankly at him - the darkest part of his soul molded and carved to look just as terrifying as his inner demons. It seemed to be mocking him somehow, making fun of all his weaknesses that it chose to ignore.
It was laughing at him - a cruel, meaningless laugh laced with power and invincibility.
His inner evil.
He took it in his hands, and stood up.
'Thanks,' He said to him.
'When should I expect a headline?' He asked.
Corvo looked back at the mask, and shook his head slowly. 'Not anytime soon,' He mumbled. 'I need to leave. Goodbye, Samuel.'
Samuel bowed his head gently.
Damn it people, I seriously need some reviews here. If you guys don't like it, there's no point in publishing more chapters.
Btw, thanks for reading, love you guys.
xoxoxo