The only way out was down. The cages were lifted high and straddled the ceiling, with some prisoners still stuck inside on the tipped over metal holders. The chains were lifted, pinned to the wall. There were already attempts made to climb them. It had spread so fast that it was hard to believe just an hour ago I was going to be lashed. Before me, a row of men knocked on a metal door. Some with axes or swords chipping away at the logs that had been set down as barricade. Other doors were easier to manage, they were made of steel and seemed to be features of the Veil itself rather than a hodge podge after thought. It would be a while for me to go up. Needing to climb, needing to see how the prisoners did. Instead I opted to go down, going for the nearest hallway and setting down the path outside. Doors leading to a spiral stairway that wrapped around the corona of the Veil. Or at least one of them. There were archers. There were light keeps with flames wavering from left to right. There were wooden scaffolds set up, barricades behind them and men behind those. These waited outside. A small group of prisoners were already pushing down the stairway and towards the men blocking access to the second floor and to the rest of Shrieker’s Veil.

The choke points after all would be the most guarded. This included the center pathways, the outside stair cases and of course the roof top platform. Outside looking down at the confrontation, I spotted the workers out by the dock and artificial shore. Wardens were being torn to pieces. Some were being whipped to death and drowned in the shallow waters.

It always had to be this way. These prisoners, these wardens, this way.

He walked down the steps. A group of half dozen pushing down on a wooden barrier, slowly tearing at it with their make shift weapons - kitchen pots, some swords, some daggers. Men behind the barricades lunged their spears. Archers aimed and hit shoulders, or bled arms, or missed.

None of them were trained well for this. None of them were prepared for it, but the prisoners had more hunger. Certainly less to lose. They pressed and I came up behind them and squeezed where a body had collapsed. I wrapped my shirt around my hand and watched the gaps in the barricade. A spear lunged out that I grabbed. It yanked back and ripped at some of my shirt, but I held it. Put the long pole under my arm pit and stepped on the spear. It broke. I jumped over the barrier. The man still had his blade retracted. He was looking at its as I stepped over. I stabbed him in the neck and he collapsed. There, I cut down the archer further back. The wardens scrambled to catch me, leaving their posts.

It was overwhelmed in seconds. And I didn’t even need to fight. The prisoners behind me were too intent on killing every warden, they ran down the steps and mauled the few to death.

Not that I was surprised at anything of what was happening. A prison so large, hosting so many thousands of captives. With the few men they had to actually maintain peace. I counted the number some ten to one. It was never going to last. None of it was.

I went down to the second floor. The escapee’s were already there. Men climbing down the cobblestone, some breaking down the doors and others coming in from windows or from the few chains remaining from the middle gap. Dead man’s crossing. Bridges were thrown down. Some destroyed with flaming boulders, others raised up once more.

The defenses were tight here, especially approaching the storage room. The second floor after all had a nice side entrance into the storage room further off into the island. And it was located some opposite end of the prison cells (there weren’t many torture chambers on this one). Most of the bulk of prisoners were held here. War criminals, escaped noble slaves, actual criminals. I wandered about the halls, watching doors slam open. Little holes where two curious eyes looked back. Some shocked, smiling as they came out from their cages. I passed the mess hall. Tables were thrown over. One criminal was sodomizing a warden. I hesitated for a moment, on the open door frame. Two other prisoners were eating goop out of a couldron. A fourth was bashing someones head. Things like that gave me pause. This almost casual violence.

There was no time for it though.

I walked past them. The brutality worsened as the escape furthered. Wardens were getting their faces slammed against the walls. Others were being dragged around with rope, nude.

Upon the storage door I saw the soldiers. A dozen with spears out, threatening a large group that surrounded them. We were close to dead man’s crossing, you could hear the waves below. Men were climbing down specifically to join the ring around the steel door.

“Back. Back.” The Warden Captain said. He stood center. The only one with a sword that he pointed from one side to the other. A crazed look upon the prisoners.

He couldn’t save himself. Though he must have thought it for a split second. I took out a torch out from its socket by the walls. I threw it against their wooden shields. It hit and sparked. Several other prisoners began throwing rocks. One came in with a pick axe and got it stuck in the shield before being stabbed in the throat. I took to the side and crab walked closer, squeezing into the group.

“Five of you. Behind me.” I said.

The prisoners turned to me, their mouths agape. The wardens too who began to shuffled behind the shields and barricade.

“Grab plates off the corpses.” I said. Wardens were plenty dead. Stripping their armor wasn’t hard.

We grabbed the plates and tied the leather straps around our wrists. We inched closer and closer to the huddled men, the spears striking the armor and sliding off. Slow inching, eyes on the spears coming through.

One warden dared. He left the circle and charged. I threw the plate onto the floor and slashed through his throat. Half his head hung. My sword was interred in him and I grabbed his sword as he died on the floor.

“Breach!” I spun the new sword in circles in the air. The others charged.

There were just too many. Always too many.

Past ran past me, bumping my shoulder. We were all screaming. The wardens especially, who were dragged and lifted up into the air and surfed the crowd out into little gaps in the crowd especially spaced for them. There, in the rings, they were beaten. Presumably to death. I didn’t stay long enough to watch. I can’t expect it to have been anything good. I grabbed another torch. The door was unlocked, though chains were set up with key-less locks. A deterrent that lasted two minutes. All it took was one sword in between the hinges of the lock and the grease of two men to snap it open.

You don’t stop the mob.

Familiar yet new. The blood on my body, the twitch of my muscles. The heat in the air, the salty smell of sweat. Ocean waves trying to hard to mask the scent. It’s strange what the body remembers. Even old pains in the wrist started to feel nostalgic. I took the steps down, the torch over head. Men scrambled past me. The stairway lead out onto a large bridge, out into the shores and up the second tower where the floors of storage were. The old gentiles playing gambling games from behind their secret room. They weren’t prepared. They were huddled with bottles, with their marbles, with their cards. The animals came through.

I sighed and stepped through the halls - straight for the armory. The rooms beside me filled with screams. Death ubiquitous. Traitors, scammers, rapists, murderers. Wardens. Prisoners. All died. People were dying just separated from the large mob, in the veil of isolation wherever there was. I opened the rusted doors out in the back of the storage tower, down on the first floor where the bulk of things were. At least, that’s what I’d been told. Two men rushed screaming like hyenas. One of them was stabbed in the head by a warden hidden behind the post. I ran forward, slashed his arm clean off. The sword slipped from my hands, wet with blood. No matter. I caved the soldiers head in with my heel, the helmet popped out.

The other prisoners ignored me, seemed more entertained than concerned. All of us split for weapons. I knew where I was going. Out to the corner where the mannequins were. A lanky looking knelt over a chest, drooling as he scrounged through the armor inside. He had a leather gauntlet on. Red trim.

I grabbed him by the hair.

“Take it off. Now.” I said.

He turned. Wide eyed. Smiling. Drooling almost.

“All right.”

They kept it. I don’t know why. Not my daggers, of course. But the armor I’d come in. Kept in a little chest. Not that it mattered, I would have just used any leather they had. But it was nice being back in. The red trimmed leather, the short cape. I grabbed the crow insignia across my chest. On my shoulder, touching them like they’d conjure someone. Nothing happened. They weren’t buttons, certainly not magic.

I grabbed a set of knives and slotted them in my straps. Five on each side, hanging by my ribs and going down my sides. Sword on one side. Two large knives on my lower back.

“It’s the general, look at him.” A prisoner said. He was fitting armor on his chest, toothless smile. “Remember me?”

“No.”

“We fought against each other. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I remember you.”

“Where?”

“In the pass. My friends were torn to maneaters. You captured me. Said we’d be free if we surrendered. Remember?”

“Somewhat. Yes.”

“Well I’m here now. Strange, huh? I surrendered and they put me here.”

“If you’re mad about it, we can settle it here.”

“Mad? Towards you? ‘Course not.” He said. “You set us free. Didn’t you? How could I be mad.”

I didn’t stay long with the mob. I split the first opportunity I had. Leadership was established. The groups were formed and the seize was all but guaranteed. Six of the nine floors were accessed completely. The seventh was in the middle. The eighth and ninth were all that was left. And that’s where I would go.

I hesitated of course. The boat was surely in exhaust hole, in the ocean, tied to the rocks. I didn’t need to go up there. Truth is, I probably never even needed to destroy the prison. But things needed aren’t things wanted.

I needed to escape. But I wanted to kill Hannibal.