The Random Adventures of Seth

by Marioland1

Chapter 2: Marioland1

Escape

I was virtually blinded from the light blazing forth from the newly made hole in the wall of my cell, and so I stood there squinting as my eyes struggled to cope. A part of my mind cursed the two that had blown the hole in the wall, as they’d have to know that pure sunlight would be painful after all this time in the grim darkness of my prison. And yet, I felt indebted to them. They did set me free from the fate I had been subjected to, and that is worth what little I have left to give.

My mouth opens slowly as I mutter my thanks to them. I still can’t see anything more than a silhouette of their forms, one male and one female, but I can see that they’re staring at me. I have to wonder why, as an inmate like myself probably doesn’t look very good. Maybe they weren’t expecting someone to still be here? The first and last person I had ever seen here was Thomas, whose limp skeleton still hangs from the rope he hung himself with, and I have no clue if there are other anywhere else in the prison.

My thoughts are disrupted by the mechanical whirring of an automation bringing a meal, a rare and always untimely occurrence in my island prison. It doesn’t even seem to notice the gaping hole in the wall, and instead slips the normal gruel into the food slot and leaves once more to do whatever. For once I can actually see the almost nauseating colors of the meal, but I hesitate for a second. Should I eat this, or do my saviors have something better than this mush?

I take a glance back at the two, the details still beyond my grasp through my eyes. I try my best to ask them if I should eat, and I can clearly see them nod at each other in affirmation. I dig in to the mush for the last time of my life, and for once it doesn’t seem quite so bland and tasteless. And yet, the question flows through my mind as I eat. Just why did these two free me?

I finish my meal with haste, and as I turn around I get my first good view of my saviors. The man is tall and strong, wearing only a pair of thick, brown pants that look rather tattered and worn. He’s wearing a rather thick leather belt, probably to keep his pants tightly secure. A gun holster is securely attached to the belt, and some kind of revolver resides within it. His shaggy golden hair almost makes him look like a shaggy giant, although his smile makes him look rather friendly for his size. His blue eyes gaze into you, and you feel both some security and a bit of concern, but what that concern is about, you don’t have a clue.

The woman has matching blonde hair, and is a little shorter than the average. Her face is dead serious though, and her green eyes are almost piercing. She has an air of command just with that gaze alone. Her dress was rather simple, long enough to go down to the ground without any issues and not revealing too much above, and made of leather with a simple rope tied around her midsection. She sported a black, tri-cornered hat, but it seems to match the overall raggedy décor of the pair and actually looks good perched atop her head.

I finally hack up the nerve to ask who they are, and they both look over at me before the woman speaks. “I’m Jasmine, and this is Judas. There’s little time left to explain the details, but we’re in need of another member of our party, and we happened to see this old, decrepit place they call a prison as we passed on by. In short, we need you to help us, and possibly even redeem yourself for whatever you did to wind up way out here.”

I had to wonder if this was a trick at first, although they were the ones that granted me my freedom, and I really only have two options: stay here alone for all eternity or go with them. I think about the prison. No human interaction, no sense of time, and nothing to look forwards to besides my eventual next meal. It doesn’t take much thought to agree, saying, “Yes, I’ll do it.”

They nod, a smile breaking on their faces as they help me through what remains of my cell wall, the rubble doing little favors to my thin-soled prison shoes. By the time I make my way through the wall, my shoes are pierced with dozens upon dozens of stone shards, and I’m left with no choice but to remove them to stop them from needling into the bottom of my feet. Oh, but the feeling of the grass! It’s a feeling I haven’t had in ages, and it takes a little while just to separate myself from this intoxicating new feeling.

And then the air exploded.

Well, not really exploding in the way you’re probably thinking. No, this was an explosion of sound, a massive foghorn throwing its noise at everything in the area. I could see my two companions looking about for the source, and a sense of panic drawn on their faces as they shouted at me to follow them. I ran after them, headed towards some kind of large, ancient looking wooden ship. “A pirate ship” I realized, and I was completely correct. The Jolly Roger flag was posted right at the top of the ship, waving in the gentle breeze.

What kind of a ship of this kind would be without a rowboat? Not much of one, I’ll tell you. But looks were deceiving, as this “rowboat” was outfitted with some kind of motor, and it took a very short time to reach the ship. The patrol was right behind us though, and I felt a bullet whiz right past my ear as the crewmen above started to lift the small boat up to the deck.

Whiz! Another bullet flew past, piercing a neat hole through Jasmine’s hat, but fortunately missing her head. If they kept shooting at us, I was sure that one of us would be taking a one way trip to the graveyard, so I did the sane thing and fought back with the only weapon I had: my prison shoes.

My shoes sailed through the air, neatly on target with the patrol boat below. One of them was hit from a bullet and knocked aside, but the other one found its mark and hit the gunman cleanly in the face with the stone-studded sole. The yelp of pain could be heard all the way across the ship, and the sight was kind of disgusting, but I wasn’t going to be killed before I could make it to the ship that saved me from my fate.

The woman only laughed at the fate of the gunman down below. “That was a nice throw. That cleverness will keep you alive on this journey”. She pauses for a second, leaning over to check that we were safe from danger. “Just what is your name?”

“Seth.”

Author's Note:

After such a good start, I did what I could to keep the story going strong and adding some personality to Seth and his saviors.

Also, falling shoes make surprisingly practical weapons. Who knew?