Ficly

Not All Entrances Are Exits

Jordan watched, in the warm glow of the lighter, as rat tails disappeared down a hallway blanketed in darkness.

She sighed and looked around at the small room she was in. Most of it was taken up by two large crates covered in cobwebs and dust. A pizza box lay on the ground next to her. She pounced on it. There were two slices of Hawaiian pizza inside. It was probably what had attracted the rats. She stuffed the pizza into her mouth as fast as she could one-handed. The other held the lighter in front of her like a sword.

She felt better after eating, not full, just not as hungry and even though she hurt all over and was afraid, she was ready to do something now.

The trapdoor was a visible square on the ceiling and one crate was under it, more or less. Jordan climbed on top of it and reached for the trapdoor. Even straining, she couldn’t quite touch it. She jumped and tried to push the door open while in mid-air. Each time, she felt it move slightly. On her fourth attempt, the crate collapsed under her.

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