A lesson in dying. pt 1.
I woke up in a cold empty cell in a prison much like the ones I’m used to writing about. The stark gray walls were imprinted with the blood, feces and scribbles of generations past, as if the prison had a history and culture of it’s own. Whatever society it had bestowed upon the darker side of the world was gone now however, I was the only one in here. No guards, no other prisoners, no one, I was alone in the one place where it’s impossible to find yourself as such. Realizing this, I jimmied the lock and started to walk around the surrounding area, who the fucks gonna notice right?
All the walls were covered with gang signs and signatures, mementos and fragments of a demented ugly past glorified by those demented enough to abide by it. I’ve never felt so close to home. Every single cell was filled with the possessions of the inmates that used to live in there as well. Old pictures, letters, playing cards, it’s hard to remember that though these people are monsters at times in the end they are people just like us. They all have memories, they all have families and they all crave something. This raises the question though, where is everyone? If the prison was really abandoned then why is this all here, fuck why am I here? These were all very valid questions but now the only main one is how do I get out.
I closed my eyes and began to think, and as I did a voice began to cry out. She was sobbing and muttering something so loud and guttural it was inaudible. I started to follow the voice when I noticed a trail of blood on the floor leading up to it, leading to a door with splatters of blood all over it. Whatever I was looking for, I was going to find it behind that door, but the question was whether I dare take the risk. I peered up to the door and leaned against it to try to gauge what I was up against and the sound of heavy machinery could be heard faintly over her screaming. She was being tortured horrifically and it was up to me to save her.
As I opened the door a man in a white mask was cutting her open on an operating table she was hooked up to, while she was convulsing trying desperately to break free. His face was calm, calculated, stoic, like this was a normal activity for him and it meant literally nothing. It’s terrifying to think that your life could be held in the hands of a person so apathetic and distant as to calculate your demise in front of you. I lunged toward the man and tackled him knocking an awkwardly shaped device from his hand, undoubtedly what he used to harm her so much. As he fell to the floor I stuck a syringe into his eyeball without hesitation and a chemical solution went shooting through his eye and into his brain killing him instantaneously. It was over that easily, and with that I rushed over to the girls side. Her wounds were gaping, she was in extreme pain, but she was alive somehow and everything was safe for now. As I bandaged her up I asked her the only question I could muster not knowing the answer I would receive would haunt me more then the question itself.
” Who was that, and why did he do this to you?”
” I asked him to…”
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