The Tower

This morning, as I stared at my computer screen, the curser blinking at me and the blank page taunting me, I remembered a photo I had seen a couple of days ago. Soon, I was typing away, thinking up a story (not to mention earning points for my team on CWW).

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and I think that perhaps I should continue it (and post it on here, of course). What do you think?

The tower rose into the mist, on and on for as far as Mia could see. A small glow shone through the darkness, at the top of the tower, but the light did not comfort her. It was not the light of the lighthouse she had left so long ago, but the broken, wicked light that was twisted into something horrible—the kind of light that an angler fish used at the bottom of the sea, a trap to lure you in until you realized that the light was evil, and you were never coming out.

Mia shivered, and the frigid cold of the very ground beneath her seeped through the thin leather soles of her boots until she could barely stand the weather. The thin cotton tunic she wore barely provided any protection from the wind and fog, and, for a moment, she almost turned away.

But no. Jason was in the tower, and she would not abandon him now.

Built into the hard, gray, gravel ground of the beach, a set of stairs spiraled around the base of the tower once, then twice, until they stopped at a small front landing in front of the door. Again, the haunting thoughts asked her if it was really worth it. But Mia shook her head, and with a deep breath, she started forward.

She would not abandon him now.

***

“What do you want from me?” Jason whispered. His eyes traced the windows, trying to find some hint to his location. But only fog swirled outside, and a pale, ghost-like reflection of himself stared back at him.

No iron bars caged him in, but the fact did not comfort him. Indeed, Jason felt that he would have been safer if there was a cage around him, for although he could not have escaped, no one could reach him, either.

“That is the question of the day, isn’t it?” Damien sighed from the center of the room. “I suppose you would like me to answer that. It would be handy, wouldn’t it? But, no. And, in case you are wondering, Mia is not trying to rescue you, and you will not receive any help for a long, long time.” Damien turned to his prisoner and smiled, but Jason shivered when he saw it. “Oh, you will not be helped for a long, long time, Jason.”

***

What do you think? Should I continue writing this?

Until next time,