I asked Chat-GPT to give me a prompt in the format of Character, Situation, Prop and Setting, using only one word for each. Here is the suggestion.

Character: Wanderer
Situation: Chase
Prop: Key
Setting: Labyrinth

A’Maze’ing Twist

The Wanderer struggled to his knees with a groan. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up to the edge of the cliff he had just rapidly descended – not entirely intentionally – and grinning at his pursuers with a bloody, toothy grin.

He gave them a salute as they withdrew from the edge of the precipice. He didn’t know how long he had until they were on him again. He was a stranger in this land, and clearly not familiar with their laws, so a minor thing like some friendly larceny really didn’t go over too well.

In his defence, the person the Wanderer was drinking with was very chatty. He was bragging about the labyrinth in the valley, and the treasure it held. He even described how the key hanging at his belt was the only way into the door at the centre of the labyrinth. What lay behind the door the Wanderer did not know for sure, but it was a labyrinth after all. You don’t keep your good cutlery at the centre of a labyrinth, behind a door.

The Wanderer rocked back on his heel and spit blood from his mouth.  He tried to shake the pain out of his arms and shoulders, one of them making him wince in pain. That was going to swell up, he thought to himself.

Gingerly getting to his feet with a groan, he reached into the pouch sewn into the waistband of his rough trousers and retrieved the heavy iron key he had stolen from the man in the tavern.

He weighed it in his hands, turning it over and over. Despite being iron there was no rust visible on any part of it. The head of the key was intricately crafted. It depicted a snake, wrapped around a rosebud. The shaft of the key lead down the detailed blade. Far more detailed than the Wanderer had ever seen. The lock would have far too many tumblers to pick. Even if he was able to make it to the centre without the key, there was no way he was getting through the door without the key.

The wanderer brushed the dust and pebbles from his coat, stretched his neck from side to side and headed towards the entrance of the labyrinth. Luckily the short way down the cliff face put him right near the entrance. His pursuers would need to take the path down. Given they were on horseback, the Wanderer assumed he had about a 10-minute head start.

The Wanderer made his way through the labyrinth. He found himself doubling back and retracing his steps many times. It was almost as if sections of the maze were reconfiguring themselves as he passed. Fortunately, it sounded like his pursuers, the militia of the town were having the same trouble. Over the course of several hours, he thought for sure he was going to be found. The sounds of dogs, footsteps, and shouting came dangerously close at times and he found himself pressed against the wall with his eyes closed and holding his breath, waiting for the moment to come. But it didn’t.

The Wanderer estimated he had been negotiating the labyrinth for almost 6 hours, going by the position of the sun. He was hot, thirsty, and sore from the fall. He was about to give up and just sit on the ground where was and wait for the militia to catch up, when he heard the silvery babbling of running water. He rounded the corner and saw it, a large intricate fountain. Statuette of fish and water nymphs seemed to spout water from every orifice. He ran to the edge, plunging his head into it. The water was cool and clear. with wet hair in his eyes and cold water running down his neck, he rinsed the dried blood from his mouth and drank deeply from the fountain.

Washing his face and hands again, he sat for a moment, catching his breath and readying himself for the next part of his adventure. It was then he noticed the door.

This was it! The centre of the labyrinth! The sound of men and dogs got louder as he approached the door. His pursuers rounded the corner to the clearing where the fountain was as he pushed the key into the lock and turned.

The door gave way as the men caught up with him, grabbing his arms roughly and holding them behind his back. As he fell to the ground he looked up and saw the faded sign above the door which opened to reveal not treasure, but machinery.

The sign read “Pump Room”.