Maid 27 walked down the stairs to the kitchens, then going past the work areas, found the small, isolated door at the far end. It was dead silent in the kitchens, and even though it was well lit with bright lights, it didn't help the goosebumps that slowly formed on the back of her neck. She didn't know exactly why she was feeling so jittery, and blamed it on the cold air.
She was just going to see a fellow worker, going to a place that she had rightful access to — well not really. In fact, it was only because she had gotten on the right side of a certain cook, who had permission, and transferred it to Maid 27. The thing was, that cook just happened to be the mother of who she was meeting up with, which of course filled in the gap of how he knew the place.
As she turned the small silver keys into the door, a darkness flooded through the room, like as if it were draining the light out of the kitchen. She shivered at the immense coldness that flushed out from the small, unused basement. Walking down the small, creaky wooden steps that descended into the darkness, she blinked her eyes quickly, several times, trying to adjust to the dimness. It was pitch black, and she wouldn't have seen a thing if it weren't for the light behind her. Straining her eyesight further int the gloom, she spotted three doors: One labelled 'Out', another labelled 'Cellar' and the last, 'Laundry.'
She shivered, and completed her last step, allowing the darkness to finally consume her. Palming the box of matches she held in her hand, she gritted her teeth and shut the door behind her, making sure that it was locked.
She couldn't get caught, ever, as one of the serving rules was to never be late after curfew (10pm) and another important one, 'there will be no allowance for interaction between a servant and a maid.'
Right, that was why she had felt so jittery before. She was breaking two — no, — three rules by doing this. Trespass, infatuation and curfew.
Her hands trembled as she took out a single matchstick, and struggled to stick the flammable tip to the side of the matchbox, Trying once, twice, three times, without success. Each time, the match sparked out for a second, sending a flash of light into the room, but not like as if it actually offered any comfort.
The final and fourth time, the match finally caught alight, and Made 27 gave out a great heave of relief. The small flame made things feel better, and comforted her with its light and the tiny heat it offered. It may not have been much, but at least she could now see more than just nothing in front of her. Giving her a rough view of what was two metres ahead of her, she put her determination back in place and approached the 'Out' door.
Taking out a second set of keys from her maid's uniform pocket, she fumbled for a second, trying to select the correct key with one hand, whilst trying to keep the light in front of her at the same time. After finally unlocking this door, she pushed it open with the keys still gripped tightly in her hand.
Once the door had opened, it immediately stopped in a square stone area looking around close to one metre by one metre, which wasn't that big, mind you, but still large enough to give Maid 27 the room to just barely stretch her arms out. Closing the door behind her once again, she started to feel that the match was nearing her fingertips. Instead of panicking, she slowly set the the matchstick to the ground, hoping desperately that the cold stone floor wouldn't extinguish the flame. Opening up her little matchbox again, she slid out another match and relit it, then crushed the one on the ground with her foot. Content with how she was going, she finally took the time to put her keys back into her pockets, then returned her gaze to the staircase that was in front of her.
Which, of course, started in a deep spiral upwards from the small metre by metre square area. Taking the rails with her spare hand, Maid 27 began the ascent, making sure to check the steps beneath her. Some of the steps seemed to be very old, made out of wood that had began to rot. She knew that this passageway hadn't been used in a long while, and that it was only part of an abandoned set of rooms that nobody was aware of anymore. They had built in new cellars, laundries and passageways to the outside elsewhere, all modern and openly connected to the main kitchens, instead of resting behind closed doors.
She continued on for a while, actually, the climb being long and arduous. The surface was what felt like miles away, due to the fact that this entire organisation was built underground. Being subterranean had its advantages when in war, especially since it kept the base unnoticed, and safe. Uneasy to infiltrate, too, as there are several false tunnels that were built away from the main entrance, helping to not only lead attackers astray, but if there were any tries of gas bombs, the toxins would all ventilate down those shafts. Maid 27 didn't know exactly how that worked, but she was just simply happy that it functioned.
After another while, she stopped and took rest for a moment, trying to count out how many matches she had left. Exactly eighteen, which meant that she could only use six more if she were to have enough left to get back as well. She had already used up four. Due to the fact that she was ten when she was first taken, she had already gathered enough knowledge from school to learn how to count and read. She was also educated enough to know how common sense worked. Glancing at the watch on her wrist whilst holding the candle near it to shine enough light, she saw that the long hand was becoming closer and closer to joining the show hand at number 12.
Sighing, she continued on.
⚙ ⚙ ⚙
After twenty minutes, she finally saw the glimpses of a soft light, peeking out from a trapdoor. Reaching upwards, Maid 27 was only just tall enough to grasp the handle, and fit in the oldest brass key she'd ever seen vertically into a small keyhole on the door. Finally hearing it click, she pushed it open, finally allowing there to be a light just bright enough to see. Fresh air swooped in from the outside around her, carrying the faint scent of rain and plantation. There was also a faint scent of flowers sweetening the air around her as she crawled out, her foot catching on the extendable ladder that came with the trap door.
Springing herself out into the open, she took in a deep breath as she lay there on her stomach, a slightly delirious giggle escaping her lips. She was finally on the surface again!
She hadn't seen the surface in a while, maybe only glimpsing it clearly the few times she went to the Oriole Mountains, but then, it was far harder to enjoy the air and sights around her when she was about to be sent into her worst torture. The air had always seemed too sharp, too cold, the snows always helping the temperatures bite your skin as you were shoved harshly outside, arms drooping with chains.
The grass surrounding her was overgrown and long, but she still enjoyed the way they scratched her face, green, lush and most of all... natural.
YOU ARE READING
Gears (NaNoWriMo 2017) (#1 Below the Machines)
Science Fiction"When I awoke, all I could see was the white ceiling. The blinding light seared into my mind and made me squint. But I couldn't see them anymore. The thoughts that floated in my mind were not of my own. My mind was empty, like a blank slate, all thi...
