 | The Dungeon of Terror A daring and clever teenage girl runs for her life through an abandoned amusement park attraction. Will her desperate plan work? |
| Contest: | Flash Fiction Challenge 2020 |
| Round: | 2 |
| Genre: | Action/Adventure |
| Location: | A Dungeon |
| Object: | A Child's Doll |
| Results: | 11pts - 5th Place |
Sixteen-year-old Cora Jenkins slowed to catch her breath outside the abandoned amusement park. Those two brutish goons had chased her for nearly twenty minutes, all the way from the darkened city streets, through the overgrown field, to this decrepit old park. Scrambling over the fence, Cora noticed her pursuers gaining on her. No time to lose. She gave her backpack a quick pat making sure her prize was still safe and sound. Satisfied, she sprinted through the park towards her one best hope of escape: The Dungeon of Terror.
Cora raced to the entrance of the dungeon. The wooden facade was badly weathered, but the door remained firmly locked. She heaved her shoulder into the door to no avail. Glancing back, she saw the two men closing in behind her. In a burst of desperation, Cora kicked the door with all her might. The door crashed open and she dashed inside, disappearing into the gloom.
- - -
Frank and Harold reached the entrance to the Dungeon of Terror moments after Cora. Frank, the older of the pair, peered through the pitch-black doorway. "Got a flashlight?" he asked impatiently.
"Yeah, yeah," answered Harold, digging through his pockets.
"Well hurry it up, or we're gonna lose her!"
"I'm hurrying! Look, it's right here." He shined the light directly into Frank's eyes.
"Gimme that you idiot!" Frank snatched the light from Harold's hands and pointed it into the building. A monstrous, disfigured face stared back at the two men, staggering them both and causing Harold to let out a surprised yelp. Frank composed himself first. "Get a hold of yourself! It's just a...dummy or somethin'."
Harold seemed unconvinced. "Are you sure it's safe in there? This joint's pretty run down."
"You know what's not safe? Going back to the boss without that doll. Got it?"
Harold's eyes went wide as understanding crept in. "Right. Let's go."
Frank and Harold pressed forward through the derelict dungeon, their flashlight revealing rusty shackles, implements of torture, and grotesque images painted upon the walls. Cobwebs and dust covered everything. Animatronic torturers and victims, frozen in time, appeared even more frightening than when they were fully functioning. A chaotic pattern of rat tracks covered the floor, along with a single set of human footprints leading away.
"There! She can't have gotten far. Come on."
It was simple enough to follow the girl's tracks, and the men quickened their pace. The tracks led them into a small torture chamber with no exits, ending at a closed iron maiden. All too easy.
"We've got her now. Harold, open that thing up." With that he drew a snub-nosed pistol from his belt and pointed it at the iron maiden.
Harold grinned and stepped over to the iron maiden. He flung open the door expectantly, turning to grab the girl. But she wasn't there. The iron maiden was empty.
"Wha--what the hell?" Frank hastily searched the inside of the device. They'd been tricked, but had no idea how. Just then, another sound caught their attention, a loud "thump" somewhere through the maze.
"Come on!"
Leaving the iron maiden behind, the thugs raced through the halls of the Dungeon of Terror, abandoning their earlier caution. Frank knew they had the advantage of light, making their progress much faster. But the girl had obviously been here before. They had to cut her off before she found a way to escape. They hurried through the ruined corridors and chambers, looking and listening intently, until Harold stopped in his tracks.
"Frank, wait!" said Harold urgently.
A few steps ahead, Frank stopped and turned. "What? What is it?"
"I thought I heard something. Listen..." A moment passed.
"I don't hear any--"
The creaking of wood sounded faintly from the floorboards a few yards behind them. Frank started forward, scanning the area cautiously. And there it was. The subtle outline of a secret door in the wall.
"There!" Before the duo could react, the door burst open and Cora made a run for it.
"Get her!"
Cora scrambled through the darkness, praying she wouldn't stumble. The men chased after, only a few feet behind. The corridor emptied out into a larger room with high ceilings and a long, tattered tapestry hanging from a scaffolding above. With no time to think, Cora took a running jump for the tapestry and started to climb. Harold reached her first, climbing up behind as Frank shined the light on her. The tapestry strained under their weight, stitches ripping audibly. Cora had only moments before tragedy would strike. She struggled to pull herself up, arm muscles burning from the effort. Just a few inches more. She shrieked as the sound of tearing intensified. Finally she managed to get one hand on the scaffolding above, but at that very moment she felt Harold's hand grip her foot.
"No!!" Cora tried to kick the man's hand free but couldn't make such a violent move without losing her own grip. She strained to pull herself up. But there was no chance with the added weight of Harold's grip. Just as she knew she could hold on no longer, the tapestry gave way completely. Harold dropped to the ground along with the torn tapestry and Cora's right shoe, falling on Frank's head. But Cora held on. With the last of her strength, she hauled herself onto the scaffolding, running out through the fire escape and out the back of the building.
- - -
Safe at home in her bedroom, Cora plopped herself down on the bed and removed her backpack with a weary sigh. From inside, she withdrew the object the thugs had wanted: a simple child's doll. Cora grinned. "There, there, Miss Sally. All safe and sound now." She admired her childhood toy for a moment before turning it over and unzipping a hidden pocket. She reached in and pulled out a large, glimmering emerald. "That's a very good girl, indeed."