Ahhh hmm never thought I'd be writing something in this genre but that's me for you, why the hell did I never think to watch Tintin before now? The most contact I ever had with it was lil comics in French text books and the writing for the comics was in French... Maybe that's why... eh well anyway.

Enjoy it

How do I always get myself into these messes?

It was dark here.

What little light there was filtered down from a roughly cut window, barred with iron and spattered liberally with cobwebs. In places water dripped down the dirty stone walls, staining them green with algae and mould. Below on the bare dirt floor a figure stirred groggily and shifted its weight slightly; the clank of chains accompanying the movement. Across from the form on the floor a sturdy wooden door provided the only entrance or indeed exit from the dank place. A slot was positioned about half way up the wood and now with a soft shhht sound it slid open, allowing the person outside to peer in at the prisoner.

A pair of sharp eyes stared into the cell for a few moments and then with a grunt of apparent satisfaction the slot was closed again. Over by the far wall the person groaned again slightly louder this and his eyes blinked open. They stared blearily at the door for a few moments before the person managed to focus slightly better and grunted as he tried to move into a sitting position.

Finally managing to get into a more comfortable pose or as comfortable as he was going to get with his arms chained behind him he rested legs outstretched, back against the wall and sighed. He had a sour taste in his mouth suggesting to him that someone had use chloroform to knock him out but he didn't know who. Whoever it was had attacked from behind with such swiftness that he hadn't had time to retaliate and by that time he'd already taken in lungfulls of the stuff as he struggled to breathe.

Leaning his head back against the cold rock Tintin sighed again wondering how things could go so wrong in the space of a few days...

TBC