98. All Time Low
"I will go first milady. Just in case a monster's dinner pot awaits below!"
Wait! You mean you don't kno-!?" but Rosella's scream was cut short. Jafar had already grabbed her by the hand and
pulled her in after him. The two of them tumbled down the dark shaft both hearts racing to the unknown fate that lay
below. The drop ended with an uncomfortable thud. One more so than the other. Jafar, in his chivalry, smacked down
first on a crumbly pile of coal. The decidedly "weighty" princess then came crashing down upon him, knocking the poor
pirate out cold.
With a groan, Rosella sat up with a whisper, "Jafar? Are you okay?" Looking around, her soot powdered cheeks
burned a deep red as she noticed she was sitting on the poor hero! Her analysis also revealed streaks of black coal
soiled her royal white stockings. "Oh yuck!" she whined, quickly licking her palms and trying to wash her legs clean for
the second time this adventure confirming that the tumble and landing had indeed not knocked the princess out of her!
Scrambling off the downed pirate, Rosella peered around to see where exactly they had landed, and if there perhaps
might be something to help wake Jafar. The lighting was low, and the heat was overwhelming. Fires burned in various
pits around the open room, while cauldrons brimming with molten metal hung above the flames, bubbling and
overflowing. By all estimates, they had fallen all the way into the basement.
The good news was that they were alive, the bad news was they were not alone. Guttural sounds of chatter echoed in
the large low-lit chamber. Rosella turned her head this way and that sending her long blond hair whipping about. The
voices were coming from all sides and soon the shadowy forms came into visual distance. If they were more of Lolotte's
goons, then they made the ones upstairs appear as royal guard, because the skin was sick with green, boils, and spots.
Their teeth were whittled down from rot, grotesquely spaced out, but razor sharp. The starved creatures' bodies were
hunched over lean in fat, wiry in muscle. Their eyes were frenzied at the sight of Rosella's body. If their heads bore any
thoughts, the princess's imagination was too terrified to comment. It would be better not to know. She felt unacceptably
beautiful in their vile presence, and the feeling scared her to death.
Daring to look down at Jafar, Rosella silently wished he would stir, but he remained fast unconscious. The pressure of
choice was heavy on her sleight shoulders. Run for help, and leave the pirate? Or stand her ground and do... what?
The trembling princess took a breath and...
Run for help
Stand her ground