The Mine

The mine was disgusting as always, Ares was dirty and covered in soot already and he had barely started his shift. He briefly thought about quitting the mine and trying to get another job.

The third city was a huge city covering several hundred miles. Ares was unfortunate in his location as he lived in one of the poorest mining boroughs. In his borough the mine was the only real place to get work. Shops rarely employed anyone and the rich had their own slaves for the petty jobs. Slaves took all the work which could be done by the poor; positions like cooks, harvesters and shop assistants were all done by them. Ares was thirteen years old, thin and just above five foot in height hardly an attractive candidate compared to the free labour readily available. He sighed to himself; he knew it was wishful thinking to believe he could get a job elsewhere.

"Stop lollygagging and dig" a deep angry voice bellowed.

The supervisor was a large man easily three times the size of young Ares. A giant by the name of Grant, his obnoxious belly hung at least three inches from the bottom of his tank top. He was always hovering behind Ares while he worked. Grant was the supervisor for nineteen other people but it seemed that the small stature and weak body of Ares was an easy target and he bullied Ares daily.

"Yes Grant" Ares replied biting his tongue from making another sarcastic reply about Grants own lazy work ethic. His last black eye had barely healed from his previous lip.

It had been around five years since Ares had begun work within the mine. At this point it felt like he had supplied enough coal for the entire world. The treatment was awful and the pay even worse.

He had first begun as an eight-year-old; he had been a door keeper or trapper as it was commonly known. This job had required him to wait in the pitch black with a small rope attached to a wooden door. He would then pull the rope opening the door allowing carts of coal to go through and allowing ventilation to the mine. This had been a long and tedious job and it required tiny children to fit in the narrow shafts by the rails. The long waits he had to endure in the pitch black, narrow shafts still gave Ares nightmares. After he had turned eleven he was given a weathered pick and directed to Supervisor Grant; something he had done with initial enthusiasm.

The new work itself was tedious, swinging a pick at some rock for hours upon hours. Despite this and the awful supervisor Ares was happy to no longer be a trapper. Two years had now passed since then and Grant had become increasingly hostile every month.

Ares had been working for several hours today and was subconsciously completing his work whilst daydreaming. As he worked, he could vaguely hear Grant chatting to several other miners behind him. Not paying attention, Ares continued his work and got lost once again in daydreams of a better life.

After a few seconds and without warning Ares was grabbed on his shoulder by a large meaty hand. The hand yanked him around and Ares was spun until he was face to face with Grant. Grant had two other miners by his side; his minions. They all had grins on their faces.

"Hello poppet, I have a task for you." Grant said spittle flying from his mouth. Grant had a look of undisguised evil on his face and a malicious grin spread upon it.

"What's the job?" Ares replied already resigning himself to whatever horrible task he was asked.

Clearly not expecting the lack of resistance Grant hesitated, a blank look upon his face. The oaf had limited intelligence and it was clear that the lack of reluctance had confused him.

"Its Mr. Grant." Grant said slapping Ares in the face with his fat paw. The blow was not heavy but with the clear size and age gap it still knocked Ares to the ground. He turned slightly chuckling to his two minions to check their approval. The two men smiled after being glanced at, nodding fervently.

Ares quickly stood, a large red mark quickly being displayed on his left cheek.

"Sorry. Mr. Grant what was it you wanted me to do? Sir" the final word was added with a sarcastic tone and Ares said it through his teeth.

Not having picked up on the obvious sarcasm Grant continued.

"We need someone to run the line down tunnel 8."

Running the line was the job no-one ever wanted. In the deepest parts of the mine there were often submerged tunnels, these had been flooded and were unstable and dangerous, they were often connected to underwater streams. When a tunnel became flooded but there were still resources of value someone would be asked to run the line. A thin rope would be tied to the chosen miner and he would swim into the flooded tunnel. This was in an attempt to reach the dry or safe part with untapped wealth. The miner would then secure the rope and allow others to get easily to the area.

This job was often a death sentence, the underwater current could sweep the miner away. It also wasn't unlikely that the chosen miner would swim the length of the submerged tunnel to find that there was no dry tunnel on the far side; this would of course leave them to drown. Even without those perils the water was ice cold and average man would die of hypothermia in a matter of minutes.

Ares looked at Grant and shuddered to himself, to say he was unwilling would be an understatement. He looked to his left and right to see if there was anyone else who was watching him being sacrificed. All he saw was the other miners staring blankly at the rocks in front of them and continuing with the work.

"Scum" Ares thought to himself, he had been working with these men for two years and they wouldn't even look at him being given a death sentence.

Grant once again clamped down his hand on the shoulder of Ares and began to push him towards tunnel 8. Ares stumbled and then began walking. The path led him past the other miners like an awful funeral procession in which no-one cared. Grant followed closely his two minions behind him.

"It's going to be a long swim, let's see if you have the lungs for it ey" Grant chuckled to himself nudging his minion with his shoulder as he commented.

His minions laughed in response.

Tunnel 8 was in the deepest part of the mine. On the way down to the tunnel Ares continually looked for chances to escape. Unfortunately, Grant had his hand tightly clamped on his shoulder prohibiting him from running, he wasn't clever by any means but Grant had strength in his overweight body. The group of four finally entered a small cavern after around fifteen minutes of descent into the Mine. The earth was darker here verging on black and the silence within the tunnels had become deafening to Ares.

The cavern containing the tunnel was dimly lit by torches mounted on the wall. It wasn't large probably around thirty men wide and there was only one entry or exit to the room. In the centre of the cavern was a pool, the edges of the pool were raised and there was about a metre drop before the water began.

By the pool was a small sign mounted on a post.

TUNNEL 8. -DO NOT ENTER- RESTRICTED.

Ares could read a little; his heart leapt to his mouth as he saw the sign. He grimaced to himself.

Grant smiled as he saw Ares face.

"Well poppet it seems that you drew the short straw today, off you go."

At this point Ares had already realised there was something very wrong. Why would the tunnel say restricted if it still had resources, and why was there no rope anywhere near? Ares knew that neither Grant or his minions had any and there was none in the cavern.

"Where's the rope?" Ares asked, a sickening feeling seeping into his body.

"What rope?" Grant smiled back.

There were a few seconds of silence as Grant let go of Ares shoulder and pushed him towards the pool.

Ares fell by the edge of the pool and turned and looked back at Grant. Grant was stood between Ares and the exit tunnel and was beaming to himself. His two minions were stood behind him with their hands crossed.

"Poppet, you just jump into that tunnel there and start swimming. If you don't, ill break every bone in your body then throw you in." He crossed his wide burly arms.

There were a few more seconds of silence. Ares stared daggers at Grant.

One of the two men behind Grant suddenly piped up.

"Hey Olly this one seems to have more spirit then the others, I wonder if he will make it out the other side. My bet stands at forty-five seconds." He commented to the other minion Olly.

"Gary you are sick." he said Olly replying to the first man before continuing.

"Trying to give him false hope won't help your cause. He will be the thirteenth so far and he's one of the weakest; my moneys on twenty seconds." Olly continued. Both of the men were chatting openly and Ares could hear what was said. He paled.

Grant cracked his knuckles.

"You have another ten seconds to make your mind up."

He then began counting as he stepped towards Ares.

"Nine..."

"Eight..."

At this point Ares was aghast at the situation. He knew that he was going to have to enter the pool one way or another. He was trembling with both anger and fear at the situation. Grant started reaching for Ares, there was only about a metre between them.

"Seven..."

"Six..."

Ares leant backwards and fell into the pool. There were a few seconds before his head broke the surface and he was submerged in the water, he instantly started kicking his legs vigorously and his head pierced the surface. The water was ice cold and there was a feeling of stabbing pain setting into his muscles already. He could swim but he wasn't a strong swimmer; the fatigue of earlier work was already burning his muscles. Floating in place Ares could see Grant.

Grant had approached the tunnel edge and was holding a brick; the brick was red contrasting with the black walled setting.

"Swim little fish, or ill bash your brains out and teach you how to sink." He juggled the brick from one hand to another.

Ares took a long breath; glaring at Grant.

I'll get you back, you will see. If I survive this, you will suffer. Ares thought to himself. He knew that hesitating any longer would likely end up with a brick embedded skull; not willing to take the risk he began to dive into the abyss.