I’d never seen fire.

Locked in a hospital room my whole life, I’d never seen the tiniest glimpse of a flame. Not even a harmless candle.

I’d always wondered what it would look like. I knew the basics, like it was orange red and yellow, like the sun. I knew that it quivered in the wind and died when put in water. I knew that it could burn you; it was very hot. Sometimes I would imagine it branching out like a tree, or perfectly straight, or fading into the surrounding air.

But it was incredible seeing a flame flickering to life before me.

My eyes stung in the newfound light. I had been stuck in darkness for who knows how long, in this underground colony. And it was getting worse by the second, as the small flame grew and grew until it was big enough to fit on a torch.

It was also relieving to be able to see what was around me.

The walls were a light brown, and it was the same on the floor. The rocks poking out of the walls were a dark grey, like a storm cloud.

Finally getting over the relief, I cautiously took a look at the two Mardaugs, now staring at me, terrified.

I had seen the Mardaugs before, in the lighter part of the colony. But now, seeing them in complete detail. . . It was just horrible.

Now they were even more disgusting, if that was possible. They were so ugly I began wondering if the Medusa stories were true.

Now I could see that lumps formed in different shapes all around their skin. Pimples showed themselves in strange places, and warts seemed very popular among the Mardaugs.

Horrendous. Hideous. Awful. Grotesque. Horrid. Monstrous. Misshapen. Frightful.

I could go on forever listing words that described the creatures. But to sum it all up, the Mardaugs were ugly.

But now they looked scared. Scared of what, though? Was I scary?

That was when I recalled that I was holding a root on fire. I quickly snapped back into reality.

If the Mardaugs were afraid of fire, like I’d thought, I had a massive upper hand. They were obviously afraid of fire because they hate light. For creatures who live underground, that was normal. Their eyes were tiny, because they barely had any use for them.

But how could I use fire against them? That was the tricky part. If it hurt their eyes, then I could go past the Mardaugs without having them wanting to follow.

Well, I couldn’t be sure about that. Which was more important to them, their prisoner or their health? These creatures were smart. They wouldn’t hurt themselves. . . right?

I really didn’t know.

Maybe I would have to take a chance? Just assume that they wouldn’t follow?

I looked back at the now whimpering Mardaugs.

Yes, maybe I would have to take a chance. Even if it was just these Mardaugs that were conveniently afraid of fire, and the others weren’t, I had no other option.

So I turned my attention to the Mardaugs.

They were slowly backing out of the room, trying to do so quietly.

“Please don’t hurt us. . .” one whispered. The other clamped its hand over its companinon’s quivering mouth. They continued backing away until they were out of sight. So these Mardaugs were so afraid of fire that they would abandon their prisoner? It seemed almost unrealistic, but then again, everything here was unrealistic.

I stood up shakily.

Everything was going eerily good for me. Well, aside from the big picture. It was just little things. Small things that made fear creep up my spine. For example, the water. I could’ve sworn that it was dirty, and then suddenly it was drinkable. And running away from the Mardaugs. I was so tired, and they kept gaining on me. But somehow there was always a distance between us. And somehow I outran them. And now there was the fire.

I was so weak, I could barely do anything without draining all my energy. I had barely been rubbing the roots together, and then there was fire. It happened right after I thought about it. Could that mean something?

I shivered, even though I was sweating from head to toe.

It was time to go.

I left the old room, and down whatever passage my gut told me to. With the light to guide me, I felt a bit better. At least now I could see.

I kept close to the walls, just in case a Mardaug were to see me.

I turned left, then went straight for a while, then spotted a path leading upwards. I made for that one.

It curved every metre or so, but never branched out. The path just kept straight, going higher and higher to the surface. Not by much, of course. Slowly, ever so slowly, it crept upwards, crawling towards the surface.

Rocks poking out of the ground cut my bare feet. They came out of the walls, too, that were now narrowing. Inch by inch the walls closed in. In just minutes they were scraping my arms.

When I was starting to have to squeeze, with difficulty, through the path, I decided to turn back.

Again guiding myself on the walls, I made it back to where the path started. What a waste of time.

I chose another path.

Like the first, it went on and on straight. There were no other places to go but forward and backward.

Maybe I had stepped back into the same path? But this one wasn’t closing in. It just went on forever. . .

I spotted something ahead.

The path widened dramatically. As I got closer, I could see that it was a large round room.

Ten holes to crawl into. Which to choose?

It was like a book I once read. At one point a guy was in a room with five doors to choose from. Four led to death, and one led to escape. But in the book he had a riddle to help him.

Here I had nothing.

No, not nothing. I had what seemed like a Mardaug’s greatest fear. Fire.

Could I use that in this situation? How would it help me? I could look into each hole and see which one seems the safest.

What did I mean, safest? I didn’t know if only one was safe. Maybe all of them led to death, or none? For all I knew, an invisible Mardaug could be waiting in each of the holes.

In this place, whatever this place was, anything could happen.

But standing around thinking was doing me no good. I had no clues, hints, to guide me through this. My best option was to guess.

Four. I cautiously stepped towards the hole. Carefully holding out my makeshift torch, I took a step forward. And then another, and another. I kept going, trying to distract myself from the fear curling through my spine.

The passage continued straight, but then changed destinations and veered left. Soon it realised it had forgotten something, and curved back. But then, annoyed, it shakily returned. It kept going, and took another left. Then soon it split into two different paths, both dark and spooky.

Even with my fire, I felt enveloped in darkness. The shadows of the fire danced on the dirt walls, shuddering at every rock that made its way out of the wall. Every time it did, I thought there was someone else there.

The path was narrow. I’d never been claustrophobic, because I lived in a small room practically my whole life. But now, in a small space, with my only options forward or backward, I finally understood that feeling.

Forward was black emptiness, and backward was black emptiness.

So I continued on the trail, not daring to look back at where I’d been before. It terrified me, knowing that every step I took led to the exact same scenery as before.

I had a horrible cramp in my stomach from hunger. Oh, hunger. Now that I thought about it, I realised that I hadn’t eaten in who knows how long. I couldn’t see the sun. It seemed like I had been here a few days, but it could’ve been hours. I had no idea.

I was gradually given more space to move my arms. In around half an hour (or what felt like it), I had stepped into a massive pit.

It was similar to the one I had come into at first. There were little platforms below all the holes, except that here that all ended abruptly around five metres above the base. There was only one hole there, and that was where I had come from.

I was now in a round room, about as big as a hockey arena.

It was completely empty.

But then I spotted a figure above, coming through one of the holes. A Mardaug. And then more slowly piled out of the holes.

I held my burning root high, hoping to scare them off. But they just came closer. Closer and closer, and soon I was completely surrounded by the ugly creatures. It was extremely loud. All of the Mardaugs talked at once. Imagine the end of the day on the last day of school. Imagine how loud that is. Now multiply that by ten. That was around how loud it was now.

But the talking ended suddenly. The Mardaug Queen had entered, with her two guards at her heels. She looked around at her followers carefully, and then turned to me.

Descending her platform, she proudly announced:

“That was far too easy.”

The crowd mumbled in agreement.

“So easy that it wasn’t fun.” she continued. “I say that we need something more. . .interesting.” she pronounced the word slowly for suspense.

Everyone was on pins and needles waiting for her to explain further.

“Perhaps we can have a battle?” one Mardaug squeaked.

“What a great idea!” The Queen said, delighted. “We’ll have a battle. I need a strong Mardaug.” she eyed the crowd, looking for a suitable contestant. She found one in no time. Pointing at a buff Mardaug, she said “You.”

It stepped forward, smiling proudly. Then it strode into the middle of the arena, and stopped, waiting for orders.

“Now, my fellow Mardaug, do not kill the prisoner. Simply hold it down, and that will be the end of it.” announced the Queen.

I shivered. The monster was way taller than me, and definitely stronger. It swept its eyes over my fire as if it were a feather.

The Mardaug smirked at me, knowing the best for itsPersonio. It probably didn’t see any way that I, a sick, weak, small, trembling human, could win. Maybe that was a good thing for me? Maybe the creature’s own pride would defeat it? I had no idea, and again, I could only hope.

“Are you ready?” cried the Queen. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Three, two, one, fight!”