It was a dark night in the city. Pale yellow limestone walls contrasted against the gray stone tile of the roads, which were covered in a shallow but thick tar. We danced through the city streets, jumping between the city street’s stairs and house’s stoops. We held torches and had to be careful so as to not touch the tar.
We approached the exit of the city, a prison island which bought prisoners from the world’s nations to use as slaves. A large cargo ship was pulling into the port and the captain was approaching us at the city’s gates.
We discussed our plans for a short time when other’s approached us from off the ship. They discussed the rights of ownership, and the lady who accompanied me was wanted by another prison island nation.
One of the crew members extended their hand for a shake, but as my hand neared their glove fell off revealing a foot beneath. They grasped my hand with their toes, which curled and wrapped around my hand and fingers, twisting and breaking my bones.