The muzzle of the rifle pushed me a step forward. I pressed my bare feet against the ground trying to keep my balance.

‘Five minutes or I’ll shoot you,’ said a freezing voice, devoid of any emotion, “encouraging” me to start walking. “Get to the end of the maze and you’ll be free. If not, you know what your fate is.’

I tried to contain a cry. They had blind-folded me too well, I couldn’t make more than a few distorted shadows around me. I stretched my arms up allowing my hands to look for obstacles. My feet slowly groped the ground around them. It was moist and crumbly under my toes. I took a careful step forward with my right foot and much to my relief, no trap viciously sank its teeth around my leg. I sighed, trying to summon whatever courage I had left to give another step. My toes scrapped around and this time they found something cold and smooth, yet sharp. Glass? I took the foot slowly further and bent down to catch this object.

‘Yes,’ my brain told me. ‘It’s glass.’

I threw it away moved the left foot towards the right where I knew it was safe.

‘Four minutes,’ the same voice announced.

I swallowed hard, trying to stop the lump that was forming in my throat like a snake swaying around its prey and enveloping it in its deadly embrace.

I ventured another two steps which thankfully brought nothing worth noting. Another two, after my toes carefully inspected the ground and my hands touched the invisible air. Then I reached the end of that path and was forced to turn right.

‘Three minutes.’

The tears flooded my eyes, unable to roll down. My blindfold was soaked. Unpleasant but I had no time to waste thinking about it. I realised I had to walk faster and risk whatever they still had in cards for me. I had less than three minutes to avoid a bullet in my skull. That’s when my both feet found nothing beneath them. I cried in sheer horror, believing I’d crush my bones against the far away ground or end up in a pit of fire. But my landing came just after my shout left my mouth. I feel on my left arm, the weight of my whole body on it. But it didn’t break. In fact, the landing was sore but nothing compared to the horrors my overwhelmed mind had imagined. Something had stung my arm and even my face. It stung harder on my hands when I got up, a nasty heat spreading all over the skin it had harassed.

‘Nettles...’ I murmured.

‘Two minutes.’

I had two minutes to figure my way out, the strength of an inevitable death finally winning over me. I didn’t know how long that maze was but if I had just fallen, how could I get back to my path and carry on?

I tried to shake away the itchy feeling from my skin and the gloomy thoughts from my terrified mind. I took my arms up again and tried to figure out if there was any way I could follow through. The only thing stopping me from removing the blindfold was the certainty they’d shoot me right away. A sardonic voice rose from the depths of my brain.

‘Maybe that’s a quicker and more pain-free way of dying.’

‘One minute.’

I was doomed. I pressed the blindfold against my eyes, trying to wipe the tears. My left arm was now burning from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders. In an ultimate moment of courage, I told myself I wouldn’t give up. I would not give those bastards the pleasure of shooting me nor would I stay there crying like a coward. If I had to die I’d die trying to earn my freedom.

I walked faster. And faster. I was suddenly in what I thought was a forest or jungle, thorns cutting through my arms and cheeks. I stepped on roots and fell on a muddy puddle. I just wished there were no crocodiles or snakes around.

‘Twenty seconds.’

I crawled my way out, mud flooding my mouth and nose. That would be my death for sure. Choked with mud. Then I reached far more solid earth and got up.

‘Ten seconds.’

I got up and started running, only to realise my cuts were aching more than ever. The itchy feeling, fueled by the mud, was unbearable.

‘Five.’

I ignored the pain. Run, I demanded to myself.

‘Four.’

Just keep running.

‘Three.’

I stepped on something again but didn’t fall.

‘Two.’

I cut my foot on a sharp stone or maybe that was another piece of glass.

‘One.’

My body and face crashed again something solid right in front of me, the impact throwing me backwards. Blood spurted from my nose and my forehead burst in pain. I landed on my back and hit my head against the ground. For a moment I thought they had shot me and I just laid there, motionless, not even sure if I was still breathing.

‘Take the blindfold off.’ the voice told me.

They probably wanted to look at me in the eyes and gloat as they took my life. So be it.

I forced myself to a seated position and took it off in one go.

The thing I had crashed against was nothing more nothing less than a massive wooden door, solid as a mountain. I took my hand to my face, realising how it should be looking like some kind of gross cake of mud, leaves and blood. A bump on my forehead. It throbbed like a heart.

Slowly the door opened, scrapping the ground underneath like an old woman squeaking. The noise pierced my ears. My body ached terribly but I was determined to keep my head raised and die with dignity.

The sun beams flooded the area and shook the darkness away. I twinkled my eyes to get them accustomed to the light. I saw a figure approaching.

‘This is it...’ I murmured.

I stared at its face staring back at me. I saw neither guns nor blades. Would he strangle or choke me with his bare hands? Would I have to fight him? In such a state I knew I couldn’t. He wasn’t tall or bulky but there was no way I could kill him.

‘You are free,’ he announced.

It was that same cold voice that had been counting the minutes and the seconds.

‘What?’ I babbled.

He had dark, expressionless eyes as if he were blind.

‘You are free to go. Must I say it again?’

‘No...’

I tried to get up. He didn’t help me. Not that I had expected it.

I couldn’t walk properly, my right foot had been cut. As I looked at the bloody footprints I was leaving behind me, he grabbed my arm and made me scream. There we go, he was going to kill me. It was a trap.

He stared at me with his lifeless eyes. I panicked.

‘Well done,’ he said. ‘Many give up and die like cowards.’

I dared not speak.

‘Go heal your wounds, woman. At least your eyes survived.’