I banged and banged, yelling, "Open the door," but no one answered. Though I held several keys, I was trapped in that corridor like my prisoners. There should have been another guard standing just outside, ready to let a superior or me in or out of the hall. There should have been guards walking the spiral steps patrolling to ensure no one had escaped. But it seemed I was alone. Was I abandoned, or had my peers been sent to another place of existence?

"Let us out before we die!"

"Please!"

"Lord help us."

Perhaps I was not alone. My prisoners could see; they could feel how the barrel rattled. 

"Guardsman! Bastien!" Quill spoke but not in a yell like the others. 

I had only turned my head slightly and found he was standing at my side, somehow escaped from his cell. He was a witch. 

"We need to let everyone out. They can help us break the door," he pleaded and grabbed for the ring of keys on my side.

Refusing, I pushed him away and yelled, "Go back to your cell."

"We'll die, Bastien!" 

We resisted one another until he'd had enough. With a single hand, Quill mushed my face against a wall, and with his other, he forcefully plucked the keys from my belt. Malnourished or not, he was stronger, at least at the moment. 

"We'll die," he repeated and stepped back to give me space to breathe as stones fell killing many of those who remained trapped behind bars. 

Irritated or not, I knew he was right. Regardless, how might I have fought him and managed to escape? Quill didn't move until I ordered him, "Quickly then." 

He ran to open cells while I continued to shout through the wooden barrier keeping us trapped. Amid my fruitless action, I was joined by our nude elder and our city's succubus. They, myself, and Quill fought the reinforced door together, but it wasn't enough. We worked united in ramming our shoulders against the splintering wood. It would have taken too long to earn freedom. 

"This isn't working," I said, stepping away before speaking to myself aloud, "This isn't working. We're going to die here. I'm going to die here."

"Now isn't the time for doubt, Bastien! We can't stop," Quill yelled without abandoning his trial.

Despair set into my quivering nerves, but the others continued without stopping to berate my neglect. There must have been a better way, but as the ceiling continued to crumble, I couldn't see. It had grown so dark already. Candles had faded or were snuffed out by powders floating.

And then I saw. A crack in a wall adjacent to the reinforced door grew wider with each thunderous bang coming from higher ground. Through it was a glimpse of dim light I might have imagined. 

"Quill!" I shouted, but rather than waiting for an answer, I tugged on his arm and dragged him away.

Pointing to the weak section of the wall, he immediately understood. 

"That's better," Quill said.

Together we rammed the structure and made better progress than we had on the door. Our arms bled, but we persevered through the numbing pain. The others soon joined us, and after sacrificing our flesh for several breaths, we had broken through. It was a small jagged breach, but large enough to squeeze a body beyond. 

Our hole led to a section of the spiral steps, but we were elevated so high the drop might have crippled us if we moved too hastily. But we had no choice but to proceed as cattle chased by flame.

We helped Prim climb down first. Despite being a woman, she might have been the heaviest of us with her overdeveloped breasts and plump back side. Brisk was more manageable but also a far more uncomfortable peer to assist. His refusal to wear so much as a cloth meant we all had to feel his shriveled skin for too long to discuss again. By then, the corridor was packed with fallen structures and the floorboards from levels above us. Quill and I hadn't any time to climb down carefully. 

We jumped, and I nearly broke my leg on impact. 

The pain punched air from my lungs just as I meant to whale, but Quill relented and refused to let us sit still. With my arm around his shoulder, he helped me to walk, and then run. 

From there, it was a sprint till we made it to the Barrels spout and out of it. Even then, we continued to run without looking back because we could hear everything collapsing in on itself. 

We didn't stop until Quill and I tripped and fell over one another in the sandy grass. Our bodies rolled till momentum was lost. Out of breath, I could have passed out, but his weight on top of my lungs kept my eyes from folding.

How many had been crushed under the weight of fallen stones? As Quill rolled off of me, I sat up on my forearms to look back at what we'd escaped. I found remnants of what should have been bodies. Hands, heads, legs. The smell of death hadn't permeated the air just yet, but the sight was ghastly. Had anyone survived? 

Quill stood up, and following his movements with my eyes, I couldn't help but glance up at the sky. The man responsible for the catastrophe was there. He floated on a purple cloud adorned with white ash from the rubble. Why had he remained in that spot? Was he enamored or pleased with his work? In either case, he soon vanished, and I was left marveling at the absence of what should have been. 

How hadn't we died? If anyone might have, it should have been us. The structure held up far longer than we deserved.

"Here," Quill said, offering a hand to help me return to my feet. 

Sadly, before I could accept his help, he was knocked unconscious. Gallow struck him with a blow to the back of the head. 

"Bastien, you're alive?" my superior spoke while Quill fell to the sand face first beside me. 

My shift had ended.