Futuristic Operation Castlerush

[DescriptedEnd]

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​

 

[DescriptedEnd]

The male sat in his cell, picking at the tender flesh around his fingernails. Each small chunk of skin was delivered to his lips as he savored each taste, scarlet blood dripping down his calloused, injured appendages. The color was a drastic change from the slate gray flooring onto which it poured onto, the occasional ‘spat’ resounding through the quiet room as it collided below. He was waiting for an officer, or a ward, to come by; he was in need of a chat, social sense tingling as his mind started to become over stimulated as he was left to his own thoughts.


Kurtis was dragging his feet as he swung around another corner. One hand drifted along the white surface of the wall, his other looped into his belt. He had been hesitating all day to get around to the higher-security part of the facility. After seeing the same babbling lunatics and glaring criminals for the third time, he needed the change. His stomach was starting to spin, though. The very idea of the cannibal, the cell he would be soon approaching, made his soul want to run and find the nearest piece of good in the world and bury in it. But he had very little faith that it existed in the prison anymore. Kurtis turned another corner and passed through another door before the glass wall came into view. Maybe he’d be lucky; maybe he’d be asleep; maybe he’d eaten himself by then and Kurtis could focus his fears on another entity. But there was no such luck.


At the sound of an approaching person, who obviously was not confined to a cell, Paolo felt his lips split into a grin. At last, a person to converse with that wasn’t himself or the bloody paintings he had splattered on the wall during his self inflicted injury. He raised his head up to study the oncoming being and, not too far after, a harsh, rasping voice that was almost as quiet as a whisper came bubbling from his throat.


“Officer Kurtis!” he coed, hauling himself up from the stained bedsheets that he slept on every night to stumble up to the front pane. The very front of his cell consisted of a concrete slab of glass. In this middle of the panel was a square set of iron embedded into the glass, wide enough to get part of the hands through. At the bottom of the bars, there was a slot where food trays could be pushed through. Paolo propped himself up by leaning forwards onto the inside table, interest sparkling in his cold grass green eyes.


Kurtis cringed as his name is called for. If he had been any further, he could have been fooled into thinking it was wind. His feet itched to just turn and run for his life while he still had it, but instead he continued forward until he stood in front of the thick glass that separated him from the cannibal.


“Hello, Paolo,” he sighed. He leaned his back against the wall adjacent to the glass plate, trying to keep as much distance as he could between the other person and himself. His guts felt like they were coiling around themselves, because the floor ,the walls, the sheets and the hands of the cannibal were stained with blood. “Vegetarianism not sticking, hm?”


“Of course not,” he snickered, taking a moment lick a drop of blood off his fingers. They continued to bleed onto the floor, running down the little cracks in the paint on the table. “Never in my life has that even crossed my mind.” He observed Kurtis for a moment before leaning in closer to the bars, taking a solid pillar of metal in each hand tightly, face pressed against the surface. “Come ‘ere,” he whispers, removing one hand from the excerpt and rapidly motioning for Kurtis to approach him. “Gotta tell ya somethin’!”


He stood silent for a moment as Paolo beckoned him. “You can tell me just fine from where we are,” Kurtis grumbled. But he decided to play along with the cannibal. He took a step forward, closing a little more than half of the distance between him and the glass wall.


“What do you need?” Kurtis asks, scrutinizing the prisoner. He tried to avoid looking at the male’s hands, which were clasped around the bars embedded into the walls of the glass. His were continuing to bleed after he licked it away. He really didn’t want to see Paolo repeat the action.


In a single, rapid motion, Paolo reach out and grasped Kurtis by his arm and yanked him forward, barely stopped him before the other male’s forehead collided with the solid bars. “Not close enough!” he rasped, hand moving from Kurtis’s sleeve to the cloth around his neck, grip so tight that his knuckles were turning white. “When I say come here,” he whispered, breath trembling for a second, “I mean, come here!”

 

[Alexandra95]

Alexandra was pretty much alone in her cell. The prison administration had not deemed her a high threat, but was skeptical to having her share a cell with someone. For all that they knew, she could have killed the other person and made explosives out of him. There really were no boundaries when it came to her. Either that, or the fact that all other inmates were males... well, go figure. Either way, Alex wasn't really bothered by this.


Residing in Section A, she was in the low security area. This was the place were minor crimes or criminals with military background were. To this day she remember the administration's arguing about her location. "She's just a young girl, there is no way we need to be worried about her. Have you even looked at her? She's weak! Like all women." The head officer was strict and had cruel views on women. He was tried argued against by the lower-rank officer in charge for Alex, but to no effect. "Sir... you're underestimating her. This girl, alone, have blown up more stuff than our military has the last decade! She's not safe! We need to-" he was cut short by the high-ranking officer. "Are you trying to say, that my judgment, as a high-ranking officer, is wrong?" With a cold voice, the lower ranked officer visibly looked like he was shot down. He went silent and transferred Alex to Section A.


In the next cell beside her, there was another ex-soldier with a rather violent history. She deemed him to be the social type. He often tried to talk to her, even though most of it was cut short by his man chauvinism showing through, conflicting with his desperate desire to talk to someone. Alex never responded.


"Hey, hey, still not wanting to talk?" he boasted across the cell, trying to get Alex to respond. She sat in the same corner she had been sitting for as long as she could remember. "Fucking bitch," he continued with a lower voice, "when they need money they have no ends to be talkative; when someone wants to talk to them they're not interested." On her side, Alex didn't know what he was talking about, and neither did she care.


To pass time, it was common for her to imagine how she would kill the neighboring cell inmate. There were endless possibilities... and all of them made her cold heart feel warmer. She hadn't killed, set fire to or blown up anything for what felt like decades. Slowly she was losing what little sanity she had left. She swore if she ever was released, the first thing she would do was to kill the inmate beside her. Oh yes, what a lovely feeling that would be; to finally once and for all shut him up permanently.


She was feeling restless, but was patient for now. In her corner she had secretly stockpiled some resources she had sneaked with her from the cafeteria. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to make a few simple weak explosives, maybe all she needed to break loose from the cell. Either that, or if by some miracle she was set free; the explosives were reserved for her neighboring inmate. What end could be better than be blown up by cafeteria food? For now, she continued to wait idly by in her cell, looking forward to the day she finally could see other's blood and limbs rain from the sky.

 

[Brax]

Generally speaking, inmates in prison have two separate codes to abide by at all times. One half of these rules pertain to the actual prison itself; authority’s rules for healthy living in such an environment. The other half of the coin is the society’s rules; those locked within either know how to play the game, or they don’t.


When it came to getting what he wanted, Damian knew how to win. Even in a cell block with a bunch of military criminals, Damian found himself strong arming everyone – old and new, regardless of race, for anything that he wanted. For the most part, he created a persona for himself which essentially saw his power within the confines of the prison purely based on a general consensus of fear.


Damian never cared to display it. Typically speaking, the man didn’t care about the feelings of other people within the prison. They were there for performing something wrong. Damian had no problem acting like an enforcer so long as it kept people away. And so, it did. The man was angry, and exceptionally versed in self-defense.


Attacks on the former military men ended in his opponent on the floor, at all times. He had never been attacked with a result of being beaten, or scathed. Even when there were weapons involved, Damian had always been able to disarm his opponent with less effort than it took for him to yawn.


And so, the man enjoyed it as such. Damian never stole money, nor did he steal food. Things he saw as essentials for others, he kept away from. When it came to other things; tobacco, marijuana, or even alcohol in small amounts – Damian was sure to confiscate at his leisure. It was not so hard to get people to fork over their paraphernalia, either.


It was hard putting up an argument with the man. He always had a 'look' in his eyes, as though he was ready to snap a person's neck just at the mere passing of disrespectful words in his direction. More often than not, this happened to be true, especially of people who approached him unwarranted; or always.


There was not one instance that he had attacked the guards. Damian merely wanted to serve his time, as was due to him. The man might have been hard-natured, but he understood the line between right and wrong. Regardless of the circumstances which had landed him in the pen in the first place, he owed his due to society.


This didn’t mean he was against escaping at a moment’s whim, had the opportunity arose. Damian just understood that running from a force which will always work relentlessly to catch him was pointless. Even if he escaped, he would have nothing. Nowhere to go, with no money due to frozen assets. He would be put back in for more time, just as quickly as he left.


If that was even possible, anyway.


Some of the guards were rather lenient. Others, not so much. It was all about who was on staff. At the moment, there was a mix. That wasn’t about to stop Damian from doing what he wished, though. Leaning back in the one chair which was provided with the cell, the man’s feet rested atop of a small desk. Next to his feet, an old radio played music from a local hip-hop station. This thing was ancient, probably from the early nineties. It was a marvel that the technology still functioned.


Both hands had been cupped near his stomach. Between each sets of his pointer and index finger, rested the sides of a minuscule sheet of thin rolling paper. The contents of the unrolled apparatus had been tobacco. It took the man but a couple of seconds to roll what he had up into a cylinder shape, applying a small amount of saliva to the edges of the paper so that it would close.


Using a match from the lone book in his possession, Damian lit up. The first drag was always paper, so he avoided inhaling. The second was all substance, providing his lungs with the filling sensation of smoke gathering within. His left hand would move the end of the cigarette from his lips, pausing slightly to hold in the substance before exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. One guard walked by his cell, paying Damian no mind. In turn, Damian had not turned his head to accommodate the other’s presence.


When it came to associating himself with people, there was no interest. Damian had been forced to live with himself, and learned how to do so in a quick manner. There was no time in the military to yearn or need human interaction for validation, or conversation to ease the mind. Rather, he had but his own self to keep him company. And, Damian had grown comfortable as well as quite fond of that. With the understanding of himself, the need of other’s acceptance stopped becoming a worry. Besides, he was sexy. And damn good at baking cookies.

 

[MrWeirdbraxto]

The seemingly infinite and repetitive rhythm of trickling water from a rusted ceiling pipe echoed throughout Eul's containment cell. Eul sat there, perfectly and contently perched upon the edge of his make-shift mattress, watching as each collection of water dripped down and pooled upon his cell floor. There was but no sound besides the faint and shaky exhale of Eul's lungs. Eyes such as his followed each drop as it fell into the collective pool. One. Two. Three. Four. Such droplets fell as the endless hour passed, One, Two, Three, Four. But, such water would eventually dry, cease to flow and drop. The hours did not follow such pattern of life, they themselves infinite.


"Four hundred, four hundred and one, four hundred and two" Such an ungodly twitch came upon Eul that he collapsed upon his bedside, his thin, lengthy fingers encasing his his head. He took the form of what a small fetus might, his mind slowly cracking with a great combustion, induced by his own thoughts. He shot up to his feet, clumsily falling and catching himself upon his cold and lifeless cell door. "Why must thou have forsaken me!? Have I not sacrificed each breathe of mine in the name of you, thy Lord?!"


Whilst in this self-conflicted state, Eul took it upon himself to repeated thrust his fist into his stomach, each cough becoming deathingly worse until such air was filled with blood. "Ulrich, watch thy tongue! Such a Lord has but given you your very existence and you claim that he has but forsaken thyself!? Such is the words of the unfaithful!" As if two men where inside Eul's mind, he collapsed to the floor with the fear and innocence of a guilty child caught by his mother and father. "No! I swear to thee, twas b ut weakness in my own mind! I would never forsake thy own Lord! Please forgive upon this weak and foolish mind of mine!"





The violent sobs of Eul slowly faded to but a soft whimper and il-rhythmic breath. Eul arose from his crippled state with but a few tears of fear still upon his chin. He fell upon his knees, mindlessly praying the same prayer that he had stated a million times perhaps. "Forgive me thy Lord for I am but a selfless servant who's breath and heart beat and pulse only to please thy Lord. My foolish and weak mind has bared it's naked weakness upon you in those moments ago, Lord. But it has regained itself and re-accepted your words Lord, for I know that I am cast upon this imprisonment by Your hand but for a greater purpose. Accept my humble selflessness, oh please accept, Lord."





Whilst the prayer settled into pure silence, the familiar tap and trickle of water once again regained it's place in the sound waves. A stash of bread in which Eul had just barely been able to secure was pulled from underneath his bed, slowly nibbling upon it, crumbs soiling his garments. Such a tricky task to bring in this bread, being in such high risk security area. Socializing was not the way of Eul, being left lonesome in the very corner of the cafeteria, the only moments in which he was able to see and hear other inmates of this facility. Eul carefully placed the tray again beneath the bedding, soft and agile as to not disturb the silence which was both calming his mind, and driving it mad.


"Lord I hope thy purpose and intent blossoms here in the near hours and days, for your servant becomes anxious..."

 

[Kazanna]

Eyes opened slowly.


Thousands of them.


Lily shuddered as she opened her own eyes, her delirium was showing her yet another horrid image, billions of eyes stared at her from the walls of her cell, the tightly wrapped straight jacket she was confined to kept her from doing little more then what she began to do at that moment.


Screaming.


Lily had a few talents, one of them was the volume, and pitch of her voice, it could shatter glass if she tried, but right now, all she was doing was volume, fear stricken volume that wouldn't be silenced beyond her being knocked unconscious again, like she had been every night for the past week. The only issue was, tonight, Lily had placed herself at the back of her cell, her back in one of the corners. To her, she was sitting on a myriad of eyes, she was gazing back at them.


She screamed louder.


Lilys mind convulsed a moment later to protect her psyche, the eyes shifted, moved around, and became bubbles, floating and popping. But then, a moment later, she had clarity, the bubbles were gone, and she was back in her cell, she'd relaxed, calmed down, ceased her screams of terror, the scared emotions were replaced with confusion.


"Where... Why... Mommy!!" She screamed out, but stopped a moment later as the memories flooded back into her mind, she remembered her past rapidly, like watching a movie in fast forward, but being able to pay attention to each fragment.


Lily Kolkas had woken up.


She smiled lightly, "Oh... Yeah... I still need to kill the dragon..." She murmured quietly in the confines of her cell.


Then she began to laugh, hysterically, rolling onto her side, she stared at the door of her cell, her laughter reached insane notions and pitches unheard of from most beings.


Lily Kolkas was awake.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

(WARNING: May contain big traces of swearing)


(Seriously, don't read if you're bothered by explicit language)


Silas sat up from the bed after another long period of sleep. Not another godforsaken day in this fuckin' hellhole... Was the only thought in his head. He started blankly into the wall in front of him for a good thirty seconds, and then proceeded to rub his eyes. The damp stale smell of the closed in walls mixed with the gray foundation and poor lighting could make anyone insane without even trying, but Silas was drawn by... greed? Yes, most likely greed. He was too egoistic and greedy to go insane. He needed his sanity to escape alive after all. Probably.


He pushed himself off of the bed and creeped up to the bars in vain hope that something might come up. Anything at all to break the dull cycle of eating, sleeping and staring into a wall. Maybe even a new neighbouring inmate? Seriously, this one didn't even talk back when he tried to agitate him. He just heard occasional shuffling from in there. What the fuck.


He tried to push his head through the bars to peer down the hallway or something, but was only gripped by a feeling of claustrophobia and anger when he couldn't. Who were these people who thought they could lock him in a box? What right did they have? He worked himself up about it so much he lashed out in his fury, and sent a kick for the bed, only to connect with basically only toenails at all the wrong angles. "Fucking bitch I'm uncultured ass (on and on and on and on)" was heard echoing down the hall.


Just a regular day for Silas.

 

[Flawless]

Christian sat on the thin, uncomfortable bed, chin resting on his palm. His other hand drummed a steady rhythm on the plastic frame, eyes staring into the wall.


So.


God.


Damn.


Bored.


His time so far had been painful. The inmate next to him was a blubbering, babbling wreck that probably couldn't hold a conversation if he was paid. He would spin around for what felt like hours.To pass the time, Christian watched him and envisioned how he was going to kill this annoying little prick. It helped, to say the least.


His fingers stilled, and he stood up, and started to pace the confines of his cell in long, measured strides. One, two, three, four, turn, one, two, three four, turn... His fingers itched. He yearned for blood. He was aching to kill, to spill the warm, crimson lifeblood of another, to feel the sweet ecstasy of murder.


But no.


He was stuck in this damn cell. It was a cage. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since he was caught. But whatever it was, it had been far too long.


Christian was a patient man. He could wait. But this.. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on for without losing it completely.


He just wanted to scream, to smash himself against the door, to break free, to gouge the nearest guard's eyes out with his own bare hands, laugh at his screams of agony as he clutched at his face, blood dripping onto the floor..


'Stop it. You're losing control.'


He took a shuddering breath, and closed his eyes, gripping his wrists tightly behind him. He could feel himself shaking with barely controlled bloodlust and rage.


But he composed himself.


Not yet.


It could wait.


He would choose his moment. A smile slowly curled his lips. Yes. They would know when the Phaodares Killer was free again.


But for now.. He would just have to be patient.

 

[DescriptedEnd]

“I’ll keep that in mind,” The guard replied, sounding almost out of breath. “Now what is it you need?” Head pressed painfully against the iron bars of the cell, Paolo’s grin turned into a gut wrenching smirk. He inhaled a gasping breath, shifting the awkward weight of his elbows around on the tray table.

Kurtis tried to remove the cannibal’s hand from his collar - gently, so as not to awake some sort of crouching beast inside Paolo. For a moment, he simply stared at the other male, almost looking like he would release him. Instead, he pulled Kurtis closer to the bars.

“We need to get out of here,” he rasped, enunciating each syllable that left his lips like the officer was nearly deaf. “You have access to the records, you can tell who we ne-”

The cannibal was cut off by the sound of a large pop; and then, silence. Kurtis jolted, almost standing up straight, but he was held in place by the prisoner. The heating/cooling system shut down with a pained whir and the two were left drowning in complete darkness.

“Ah? What happened to the backup generators?” Paolo coed, releasing his grip on the shirt he had clinged to so tightly before. Kurtis quickly shuffled back from the bars, but focused his attention on his surroundings, and not the male in front of him. He could only barely make out the glass wall in front of him, and the man behind it.

Normally, if there was any sort of outage with the main power, there was a set of backup generators that would supply the doors and emergency lights with enough power to function until the main line was reconnected. However, there seemed to be no such system as of now. This meant that all the cell doors were unlocked and there were no lights. Paolo whipped himself away from the front of the room and scrambled to the door, only to be stopped by emergency lights flooding on.

“Damn it!” he shouted, banging his hand on the door. Roughly, he gripped its handle and attempted to open it. To his surprise, it opened. It didn’t click into Kurtis’s mind until he watched this; the convicted cannibal, condemned to imprisonment, ripped open the door to his cell.

Kurtis was frozen in place for a moment, just watching Paolo move. And then he was back to life, his hand flying to his gun. He didn’t pull it yet, but the safety trigger was off. He wouldn’t unless he was advanced on. If Paolo’s door is open, is everyone elses’? They’ll want to escape. The ones who are smart will either cozy up to guards, or kill them. He hopes Paolo’s smart enough to chose the former. “So how much is your escape plan changed by this?”

“It’s enhanced!” the insane male chirped, rushing out of the cell and rushing up to the officer. Kurtis grabbed the handle of his gun. He didn’t pause, hooking an arm over Kurtis’s shoulders as if they were old pals. The guard paused, freezing at the contact. “Now we can just march up to who we need to go! There are physical records of everybody, right? Not just electronic?” His smile was ecstatic as he attempted to pull Kurtis towards the door.

Apparently Paolo was choosing friendship over murder. This decision was unexpected from the cannibal, in Kurtis’s opinion, but he wouldn’t argue. “Yes, I believe so,” He muttered, stumbling along after Paolo. “There should be some in the main office. I’m not sure how organized they are anymore, and they may be hard to see in the dark.”

“Well, you’ve got a flashlight, dontcha? And some of the emergency lights are on!” he pointed out, almost going out of the door in a skip. He knew they would have to be careful of the other inmates; although, he doubted that anybody would really want to mess with somebody that would, quite literally, eat them alive.

 

[Kazanna]

Lily was slow to react to the fact that the lights had flicked off and then a few moments later, come back on. Slow for the fact that this mere few moments was an eternity of darkness in her mind. She was screaming again, agitated beyond a belief that was not even her own. She was watching as the darkness moved in to consume her, to chew on her, to devour her. She laughed as it came for her, and it's teeth found no purchase on her flesh.


Lily Kolkas was struggling to understand.


When the lights came on, she screamed again, she was in a desert this time, it was hot, so hot, there was too much light, she felt so warm. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes, and she found it was far darker then she had thought at first. It was in fact, a low lighting. She was back in the prison now, back in her cell, confined to the horrid straight jacket.


Lily Kolkas was beginning to understand.


Lily pushed herself away from the walls and carefully pushed her way out of the horrible straight jacket carefully, she'd done this before, thinned herself out over weeks so she could, and when they'd put the thing on her, puffed her body out so she could get it off again. Now, she pushed it over her head with a grunt. The lightweight A shirt she had on offered little comfort, or protection, so she took up the jacket again, and slid it on so that her arms were in the sleeves. She strapped up the buckles on it, so anyone that tried to use them against her would have to take extra time to do so.


"Fasten the armor... make it tight... so the slimy smiley monsters can't get through..." she murmured in a sing song voice, "Tighten it down so they cant squeeze in through the cracks." She continued.


With a careful movement, she approached the door of her cell, and tested it. It opened slowly and she shuddered, smiling she muttered, "I'm off to slay a dragon.... A Draaaaagon..." She said with a singing tone as she padded slowly out the door of her cell, into the hallways.


Lily Kolkas no longer has a grasp of anything.

 

[Alexandra95]

Alex found herself fiddling with a small chemical explosive when it suddenly turned dark. For a moment she froze, listening closely to the outside of the cell, to see if it was imaginary, that she'd gone insane, or whether it was real. She moved towards her cell door and gave it a light push, noticing how it slowly opened. Her pulse rose as she was about to lose it. Is this is a dream? Is she finally free? She couldn't believe the ability to just walk straight out of her cell, like a God-sent gift of liberty.


In the cell next to her she heard a familiar voice. Tightening her palm with her newly crafted explosive, she walked slowly outside and towards the door of the other cell. The male inside was talking but she didn't grasp anything of what he said, for her mind was one-sided, it was thinking on only one thing. She slammed his door open, to his surprise. His uttered words as his expression grew more afraid, as faint as it was in the darkness, went straight through Alex' head.


In a swift movement, she pushed him up the wall, a loud bang from the solid wall behind him echoing through the dark room. You could hear him becoming desperate, trying to yell of all his force in a desperation for his life, as she held his neck trapped to the wall. She forced her explosive inside his mouth, shutting it tight by force. The explosive was reactive with the chemicals inside your mouth, and so would go off soon as he resisted with what little force he had left. "Who's the fucking bitch now?" were the final words her neighboring inmate would hear.


A faint grin started showing up on Alex' dark face. A suppressed, but still loud bang could be heard, probably in the nearest cells as well, as his insides of his head was blown up, tearing his face to rubbish, like a gory horror movie made in the 80s. Blood splattered over her face, and she started laughing. Her manic laugh echoed throughout the cell as her heart was filled with warmth and pleasure, she finally was able to hear an explosion again. What she felt was pure euphoria, and the minute that had passed felt like the happiest eternity she had ever experienced. She crumbled down on the floor, laughing and crying of happiness; the dead, nearly decapitated body fell down beside her.


Alex was free.

 

[Brax]

Damian Porter


_________________________

​

Originally curious to see what it was that people had been generating a ruckus over, the man would get up from his rather comfortable seat with a groan. As soon as he stood up to his feet, he realized that the air conditioning which was once (and usually) blaring on high had been shut off. Immediately following this observation, the lights shut out. Damian had an idea of what was going on, but expected it to be fixed within the next couple of minutes.


When he finally moseyed over to the iron bars holding him in, Damian realized that it was no longer locked. This was not good. Anyone could move about as they please throughout the prison, with the lights off? What exactly had been going on? It could not have been basic procedure. The man looked to search the immediate radius outside of the cell, but had found it hard to see. His eyes needed some time to adjust to the darkness, and it had to happen fast. In the meanwhile, however, Damian would not walk outside just yet; rather, he slowly made way toward the desk and pulled out a small folded-up piece of paper. It was within the lone drawer which the piece of furniture contained.


Within the confines of the drawer, was a litter of various items. Drawings, letters, pencils and scratch-off tickets took up a majority of the space within. It was funny how behaving in the eyes of the officers had granted him such delightful items. A radio, a wooden chair, and a table with a drawer had all gone a long way. Placing the paper on the table, Damian would unfold the item to get to the sticky, leafy green substance inside. When his fingers were able to grasp the Marijuana, they began breaking up the larger buds into much smaller pieces. After it was crumbled up to his satisfaction, Damian’s eyes would move back to the drawer.


He searched for anything he could find, which would be useful for rolling. Regular paper was not the correct texture and would do more harm than good. Receipt paper would be ideal, considering there was not one actual rolling paper left for him to use. Finding the one with the least amount of ink on it, Damian would roll up once more. He lit the joint with matches, taking a deep hit before exhaling with a contented sigh. As he moved away from the table once more, he softly shut the drawer. This was to effectively generate the least amount of sound he possibly could.


Not that it would matter. The sound of an explosion within his ward had sounded off much like alarms. It had not caught Damian by surprise; the sound was quite familiar to him. It was the audible, hysterical laughter which ricocheted through his block that was off-setting. Turning his head back toward the door of the cell, he found that his eyes had been able to make out a bit more of the surrounding area. Damian opened his cell, not wanting to be restricted to merely his block while curiosity as to where the explosion came from had gotten the best of him.


Upon stepping outside, Damian had no protection on him at all. He knew he would eventually run into someone who would have some sort of weapon, but he was not sure when. More or less, the man was banking on finding something worthwhile as he moved deeper into the cell block. Some people had yet to leave their cells. Others were wide open. A group of three man had ran past him, hustling toward the cell located behind his. There were not many females in the prison, let alone on that side. Damian was not a hero, either – but he could guess where most of the men in the prison were headed to. That was something he could not allow, one moral in his sea of personality flaws. The three had moved quickly, so Damian was sure to step out into the hallway. The men had been gathered about the gymnasium’s entrance as Damian shouted in the darkness.


“Where you boys thaaaank you goin’?!”


The southern accent rang through the hallway, causing the men to turn around. One was Spanish, a bit on the shorter side. The other was white and lanky. The third was a man with dog tags around his neck, holding an aluminum baseball bat. He must have been a soldier; his physique correlated this assumption. The two who had been with the bat-wielder neared Damian while the ring leader moved to pursue the female on the ground. Damian had been genuinely upset that he did not move to approach him much like the other two had.


As the lanky man got close, he threw the sloppiest haymaker that Damian had ever seen. Both of the man’s hands moved to grab the other’s arm; his right hand had been pressing the part above the man’s elbow inward, while his left hand pressed his forearm outward. Damian killed the momentum of the man’s attack by slightly ducking under the grabbed right arm and slamming his left knee-cap into the skinny goon’s sternum. As a result, his knees buckled and he fell to the floor face-first, unconscious.


The Spanish man had raised his arms up. Undoubtedly, he was a member of a gang at some point. Damian raised his fists the same, moving past the body at his feet to near the other. His left foot had been slightly bent at the knee, the frame of his foot balancing by the tip of his toes. This was a traditional Muay-Thai stance. It caused the Spanish man to chuckle while attempting to speak. “You gonna get yo’ ass beat, vato.”


Damian crinkled his nose slightly, still inching forward. When he got close enough, he let out a quick right jab. Once his fist had successfully popped the man in the bridge of his nose, Damian knew the fight was over. Immediately following the straight punch was a left hook, which had slammed into the man’s left cheek with ease. As the man’s head bent to the side, Damian threw yet another straight right and immediately spun his body around at a full three-hundred and sixty degrees to deliver a spinning left back-fist to the second prisoner’s head. As soon as the last hit of the fluid four-punch combination landed, the victim was knocked out - stumbling into a nearby wall and hitting it head-first before crumbling to the ground.


The ex-soldier had quickly continued on from that point to pursue the last man.


“I’m comin’ fo’ that bat, boy!”


As soon as Damian turned the corner leading to the final row of cells in that hallway, the aforementioned aluminum bat came barreling horizontally toward his head. The man was able to duck at the very last second, causing the metal club to crash into the iron bars belonging to the cell which contained both a female and a dead body. Little did Damian know, this was the same cell which the explosion came from. He would learn that soon enough.


Hopping back a small distance while showing a bit of nimble behavior on his feet, Damian smirked at the other military man. He, in turn, moved toward Damian and lifted the bat back in attempts to swing it once more. Damian would not allow that to occur; he swiftly slammed his right leg into the man’s left ribcage, cracking a few of his bones in the process. This caused his opponent to be slammed against the wall and yell in pain. Damian grabbed the baseball bat out of his hand, and began slamming it repetitively into the man’s face.


By the fourth hit, the sound of aluminum smashing against mushy, wet brain-matter was loud and sickening. When Damian finally ceased the motions, there was blood all over the floor; on his clothes, and bits of brain as well as teeth on the tip of his bat. Dude’s face was mangled to oblivion. Damian did not react to this in the slightest; instead, he bent over and used the dead man’s shirt to clean some of the gunk off of his newly-acquired weapon. Chest rising and falling quickly due to his adrenaline rush, it took Damian an extra second to turn around and notice the frame of the woman on the ground.


Next to some guy who’s head was blown to bits.


Well, it turned out Damian was right. Those men wanted a bit of action with the closest woman in that side of the prison. The notion was disgusting, but he was able to stop the act from taking place. He took a couple of steps into the cell, first observing the headless body on the ground. Then his hues would move to the frame of the woman. Damian’s right hand helped in lifting the bat up onto his right shoulder, where he would let it rest. His left index and thumb fingers would grasp the joint from his lips. It was not lit, but Damian would make it a point to find some sort of way to do so in the immediate future.


“Get up. We gotta get goin’ to some place safe.”


@Alexandra95

 

[Flawless]

One minute, Christian was dragging his sharp, broken fingernails along the wall. Then the power went out. He froze where he stood, almost not daring to move, the irrational fear that if he did, this would disappear. He couldn't quite believe this was reality. He blinked. Still dark.


Immediately he sprinted for the door, hurling his shoulder against it. In the split second before he hit it, he realised the power had just flickered back on. He braced himself for the impact, and potentially breaking his arm, being unable to stop his momentum. But no such thing happened. He hit the door, and, finding no resistance, fell straight out into the corridor, the door smashing into the wall behind him, leaving a large dent.


He lay on the cold, tiled floor for a few moments. Was he really free?


And he started chuckling. He rolled onto he back, gripping his sides, howling with laughter. Finally! For a while, he just lay there, laughing until he couldn't breath. Joy was the only word to describe what he felt. He was finally out of that cell. He would rather die before ever returning there again.


Once he regained his breath, he stood, brushing himself off, stretching out his limbs. He felt free as a bird. But he knew one thing he was going to do first. He looked up and down the corridors. Nobody else out yet? Good.


He slowly turned to the cell next to him. That crazy bastard hadn't noticed a thing. He was still spinning like a top. Christian smirked, and walked over to his cell, flexing his hands. He opened the door. No reaction.


"Hey." he called. "Merry-go-round. You know the door's open?"


Just more spinning. He was singing a soft, warbling song under his breath. How irritating. But Christian's smirk grew wider. After he was done with this guy, there would be no more goddamn spinning. Ever.


Immediately he was upon him, pushing him against the wall, his head cracking against it. He looked dazed. His eyes rolled about, like he was still in the midst of spinning. He really had no clue, had he? No matter.


Without the slightest hesitation, Christian sank his fingernails into the soft skin on the side of his neck and ripped, tearing out his throat, and nearly taking his head off with it. He let out one last gurgle, eyes glazing over. He let his limp body fall to the floor. Blood spattered Christian's clothes, hands dripping with blood.


He left the body where it had fallen, the dark liquid already pooling out around it, a stark contrast to the pale cell. He strode out into the corridors, confidence in every step, familiar, self-assured smirk on his face. Now that was taken care of, he could do what he liked. Nobody would stand in his way. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty.


This.. Would be fun.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Silas was once again curled up in his bed, lightly tapping the back of his head against the wall out of sheer boredom. He wasn't hurting himself, he was just adding a repetitive action to his dull situation, which helped him stay calm and not scream out in the lack of stimulation. This didn't last for too long, however. He hit his head against the grey wall for the thirtyfifth time, and then thought he heard a sound. Something changed. He jumped out of the bed and rushed up to grab the bars and look around outside his cell again. As he touched the bars, the lights went out and the metal slid away from under his hands. He took a couple of stumbling steps outside his little home, and then froze.


The electricity went out, and the cell door is unlocked? He thought, and slowly twisted his head towards the cell adjacent to his. Not a sound was heard from there. He slowly creeped back to his cell and closed the door silently behind him, and proceeded to have a small panic attack. Unlike other people around here, he wasn't in for anything violent. These people were messed up in the head! Silas couldn't go out there, he would get massacred!


His eyes searched through the cell, hoping that the cracks in the walls would lead to some sort of answer. He spun around blinking and breathing heavily, until his eyes finally stopped on his bed. He went completely still for a moment. I've got to get to them before they get to me... he thought, and dashed for the bed. He started ripping it open, until he got to the matress. Springs... springs... He ripped the first spring he could find, and smiled to himself as he noted that it had an edge to it where he pulled it from the matress.


He snuck out of his cell again, and as quietly as he could snuck into his neighbor's. He'd never actually seen the man, but he wasn't surprised to see him facing the wall in his bed. He only ever heard shuffling as if from a bed in here, so it had been the logical answer. He slowly creeped up on the man, and got no reaction. He kept snoozing happily in his "safe" little bed. Silas smiled as he raised the spring above his head.


A long line of red was drawn across the wall outside the former convict's cell, where Silas had dried the blood from his right hand. Cutting someone's throat up resulted in way too much blood, more than he'd expected, but that didn't stop him from smiling to himself. It had been oddly satisfying to crush a possible threat like that, even if he could've been considered about as dangerous as a kitten, lying there asleep in the sad excuse of a bed. The stained spring rolled after him from the momentum given to it when he dropped it, and he stopped briefly to kick it back towards the cells. It wasn't going to do him any good against anything but sleeping opponents. He wasn't a fighter.


That's when it came. A sudden movement in the shadows ahead of him caused him to duck down and back away. It sounded like somewhat of a struggle ahead of him, and he shivered as he heard eriee noises that sound scarily much like what he'd imagine a person getting mangled sounded like. It went quiet, and Silas dared sneak forward. Some guy, spared the title of "poor", was crushed on the floor. Not completely, but there was no doubt that Silas wouldn't want the same treatment. His face didn't exactly qualify for a face anymore, and he was most certainly dead. Silas quietly wondered what kind of psycho would do something like that, when he realized that whoever had done it hadn't left yet.


He let out a yelp when he noticed the man carrying a metal bat of some sort ahead of him in the darkness, and fell backwards onto his rear. His jaw was involuntarily shaking out of fear for the man, but he followed where he was looking with his eyes, and saw the scene within the cell. Some woman was lying on the floor, but that wasn't what caught Silas' attention. The guy who looked significantly blown up against the wall was what really intrigued him. His eyes grew wider and a wicked smile appeared on his face. He almost instantly forgot about what had just happened, and let out in a cheerful tone "Oh, sick!"


@Braxnond


@Alexandra95

 

[Alexandra95]

Alexandra felt her euphoric state deteriorate as it was interrupted by loud noises in front of her. With teary eyes she looked in front of her, witnessing a blurred vision of a violent encounter. She could make out three men... no, two men, fighting for life and death. One of them was pulled up to the cell wall and beaten with a bright-looking bat, eventually dismissing a loud crack and blood from his head. The brutal murder in front of her woke her up from her floaty state.


Looking around herself, she was reminded of her dark surroundings. The man in front of her stopped his motions as the dead body fell to the floor. He walked calmly towards her, pulling out a joint from his mouth, telling her, "Get up. We gotta get goin’ to some place safe." Her expression grew serious and she got herself up on her legs, wiping off some blood on her face and cracking her fists. The man turned around and started walking out. Alex hazily followed after, taking a look over her shoulder to the dead bodies all over the place. This place sure got messy quick.


A faint voice was heard across the hallway. The man stopped for a second, as if he was thinking about something, took a brief look at Alex, before starting to walk along the hallway, Alex following idly by. As they walked through the corridor, she was thinking of what just happened. She was ashamed by being saved by a guy like this. Even with her almost non-existent knowledge about human behavior, she realized that some men were after women in a certain way. She knew this because she had been a "victim" for this... at least until she violently broke their personal parts into pieces. This situation clearly troubled her pride.


It was silent. The grown man walked firmly through the hallway with a joint in his mouth and a bat in his hand. Slightly behind him was the younger, tall girl with a pouting look; like a small, spoiled girl who's been refused the candy she wanted. Neither of them said anything. Together they looked like a badass duo from a modern action movie. Anyone witnessing this was sure to be at least mildly afraid.


When they reached the end of the hallway, they stopped and turned to their right. A pale, skinny boy was sitting there with a mix between fear and admiration in his eyes. The muscular man in front of him held an aluminum bat in his hand, which easily could home-run his life for sure. At the same time, the boy seemed interested in both of them. When his gaze met with her, she just gave him a cold stare back. This is the kind of boy who's played too much video games, she thought to herself, not noticing the river of blood along the floor in the darkness.


She left the talking to Mr. Badass beside her.

 

[MrWeirdbraxto]

Silence, such silence that could taint a soul and drive a mind mad, flooded and consumed the world in which Eul resided. Such as blood might fill the heart of a man much like any other, the silence fills the mind of Eul wish madness. Madness that might only to be described as a plague, leaving no survivors breathing once more. Eul, unfortunately, was at the mercy of such a plague. Biting the end of this thumb, Eul intended to draw blood from the finger and he had such succeeded. Taking his thumb upon the wall, Eul wrote his sacred prayer upon the surface. 'For if thy self-sacrifice furthers thy Lord, then it furthers thyself. For in the blood in thy veins flows for the refreshment of thy Lord, topping of his drink of existence.'





A definite and booming thud broke the silence that plagued the air about, ending the visible light within Eul's cell. Sound an echoing sound was followed by the collapsing noise of Eul's body dropping to the ground, for writing such a lengthily prayer in thy own blood takes quite a bit out of you, bringing Eul to a very lightheaded state. When he regained his composer, Eul spread his eyes wide open, only to see the pure darkness as the lights were powered off. Immediately, Eul expected the worst and began to scream in extreme disappear and anguish.


"For what is such punishment upon your loyal servant, to curse such selfless hands with the burden of the loss of sight?! For what have thy done to be cursed to such a degree thy Lord?!" While going into hyperventilation, as most of Eul's fits did, he froze to see his cell door slightly sliding open on it's own, a gleam of light peeking through the crack that had created. Instantly, Eul became angry at such an outburst from his short-tempered mind. In this quick rage, Eul took both of his fist and crushed them in to the wall of his cell, feeling as if he broke the bone and definitely the skin open. "Gott verdammt verdammt!" He yelled at such a loud volume the echo hurt his ears, but such pain did not compare to his newly bleeding fist. Carefully but still grumbling his swears, he ripped off pieces of his bed--sheet and wrapped his hands up tight.


As the final curses escaped Eul's mouth, the last bandage was tightened around his hand and knuckles to stop the bleeding. Though, the pulsating feeling of swelling and broken bones was overwhelming, but yet relieving, allowing a mentally tortured man, experience a little bit of mortal and physical pain. "Verdammt, guards are going to question my 'safety' and yet again increase security over me, such a burden.." Eul regained his composer and went to investigate the now ajar cell door, which had slid open due to the now lack of power. Sliding a hand in between the gap, Eul slowly but skeptically slid the containment door open, emerging into the lightless and seemingly lifeless hallways of the 'special' containment hallway. With great paranoia, Eul frantically peered in all directions, searching for any signs of security. "Gone... The security is gone! Lord of thy above, thy have sent me a blessing for suffering though thy torturous trials! For now you have given thy servant the freedom to serve thy once more in the freedom of thy's created existence!"





With great haste, Eul made his way to the lesser security hall, a place he had only heard through the stories he managed to managed to overhear during the cafeteria hour, being restricted to the specialty part for the 'mentally unstable'. Emerging in this unforeseen wing of the facility, Eul cautiously made his way around this unknown and hostile environment, hearing many strange sounds of fighting and even the occasional thunder of an explosion. Even through the many multiple years had tolled on Eul's mental sanity, he was instantly able to recall and call forth his technique with the shadows that surrounded himself. Noticing a struggle and conflict ahead, Eul seemed to have faded into the darkness, sneaking up within a few feet of a man wielding quite the barbaric bat, and pathetic child who seemed on the verge of tears. He examined the duo's outfits, noticing if there was any opportunity to swipe a quick item. 'Damn, no pockets, what luck is of this, to be free but with no riches to please Him..."





Conflict, such conflict was not in Eul's interest or specialty, he felt uncomfortable, but strangely alive once more. The smell of fresh blood consumed the halls, contaminating all of the air that was willing Eul's lungs, such sent made him feel ill. He tore but another rag from his clothing, covering his his mouth and nose, as to not contaminate his soul any further. 'But such a waste, such sustenance could go to growing and feeding thy Lord's soul, such ignorance one who does not believe'. Excitement and adrenaline began to fill and course in Eul's veins, consuming him as much as his blood did. As what seemed by sheer impulse and stupidity, Eul kicked in the large man's knee, causing him to fall with an awkward grace. As the child stared with sheer fear and astonishment, Eul cupped her mouth and pulled her in to the shadows, consuming them both.


Eul pinned the girl against the wall, allowing her the freedom to speak once more, a bloodshot look consuming his eyes. "For I do not intend to waste thy time that thy Lord has granted to me, you will be the one to give me the knowledge that I seek. What is thy name, thy purpose, thy higher calling, and why has thy Lord allowed such infidels to roam free along with thy's servant?!"





@Alexandra95

 

[Brax]

[ Couple of curse words in here. Nothing too bad. ]


Damian had heard this kid from a mile away, even as his feet led him straight to the source of the crumbled mess. He had not necessarily been too much younger than the ex-soldier himself, but obviously the two had led completely different lives. For starters, the kid was about the fourth of his side. Damian knew he did not pose a threat, but he was not sure about it. All he knew was that as soon as he got close to the person, the boy had not reacted similarly than most of the other inmates had.


“I ain’t gon’ hurt ya. Relax. The hell you doin’ whimperin’ all up in here anyway? You realize there a riot goin’ on?”


Noticing that there was blood beginning to run around the sole of one of the shoes on his feet, Damian had instantaneously been curious as to what had happened previously. Before both he and the female had made their way over and found him. The sounds throughout the prison were both horrifying and loud. People screaming at the top of their lungs, others fighting. There were absolutely no officers in sight. Where the hell could they have possibly been? Someone was definitely not doing their job.


Placing a hand onto his forehead, Damian let out a loud sigh. This was a huge mess, and fighting for the life of his own as well as a few others was not what he had originally intended at the outbreak. He had absolutely no reason to help them, but the truth was still unknown – was Damian really here because he did something wrong, or not? Saving the woman was one thing; she was a female in a place filled with rabid dogs. This smaller man, however? As it seemed, the only thing he could do was not fight. Maybe looking after the weak, however, didn’t require motivation at all. Maybe it was just the right thing to do.


The larger man had not been aware of the threat in the dark. If anything, he was relaxed. There were two people beside him to point out any possible issues while he kept his eyes fixated on the hacker. Well, he didn’t know the boy was a hacker… But he was. That was the exact moment when Damian got a nice little wake-up call. To say the least, this would remind the man to stay on his guard. A rather large bang would occur to his leg, causing him to fall. The kick had not hurt; all the nerve endings in Damian’s shins had been dead for a rather long period of time. Training in martial arts made it so.


It did not stop the fact that Damian was not aware of this move. So, being caught off guard would end with his leg being kicked out from underneath him. Damian fell to the ground, but immediately jumped back up with his eyes fixated on the culprit. Moving to the shadows? It was not that hard to even guess where the man had went. Within the three second span the entire action good place, the crazy man would not be left with a whole lot of time to both escape and take the girl without a sound. No one was that good, not even Damian.


He tip-toed into the darkness, the bat still in his hand. This was after he rose a hand to the younger man he was speaking to, telling him to wait. It literally took an entire minute to locate the man who had kicked him, but Damian did so successfully. As the man was in mid-sentence with the woman, Damian continued to creep up slowly. As soon as the man finished his sentence, it was go-time.


Crouching slightly, Damian’s left foot slid up further on the ground than his left. Then Damian jumped into the air. When he reached his peak height, he twisted his torso violently. His right leg rocketed into the side of the man’s face, causing his head to slam into the left-hand wall. The force of the impact actually would cause his head to slightly bounce off of the cement. Damian landed on the ground and immediately changed his position to send yet another right leg smashing into his side.


Once the body of Eul bent over, Damian dropped his bat and moved so that both of his arms could wrap around his neck. This was known as a guillotine choke, or a front naked choke. The ex-soldier continued standing as he applied pressure, until Eul’s body would go limp. Once Damian knew he was unconscious, he dropped the man’s body. It crumpled to the floor like a ton of bricks, much like a person-sized wooden dummy would drop without the assistance of being held up.


Hues remained fixated on the unconscious body. He had contemplated whether or not he was going to let the man live, or take him with the group. Damian picked his bat up off of the ground, prior to grabbing one of the man’s legs. He slid the body out, back to where the hacker had been located. Then he dropped him right beside the younger man. “You take this guy, and follow me. Y’heard? We gon’ take the office over. That’s prolly the safest place we could be at. Hurry up.” And with that, both Damian and Alexandra would recruit Silas to the team. If Ulrich was a good boy upon waking up, he would be number four.


Damian did not think that Alexandra needed to be asked to keep an eye on Silas, so he did not try to pull some shit. He was not trying to get shivved. The door to the office was locked, but that mattered very little. After lifting up his leg, Damian kicked it in by placing most of the momentum and pressure of his leg into the middle-left hand side of the wood. It flipped open, smashing against the desk all the way to the wall behind it. Damian would take a couple of steps in, looking around the small-sized enclosure. He would eventually grab a pair of handcuffs, and a straight-jacket. He tossed them both into a small pile on the ground in front of the door. “This’ll be good, for now. Both y’all get in here. Take that unconscious douche, put the straight jacket on his ass, and cuff his feet together. Tight. I’ma guard the door so no fuck-shit happens.”





@Prizzy Kriyze


@Alexandra95


@MrWeirdbraxto

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

(Still, Silas likes to let them curses fly)


“I ain’t gon’ hurt ya. Relax. The hell you doin’ whimperin’ all up in here anyway? You realize there a riot goin’ on?” The first words were fine, but the following ones made Silas' even shorter than usual fuse light up. "Who the fuck are you to call me whimpy? Every retard in this prison knows it's a riot." He quickly retorted as he leaned forward from the wall and placed his hands on the ground in case he'd have to get up and run away. The guy was much larger, stronger, most likely trained and more armed than he was, but that didn't stop him from talking back. A lifetime of luxury didn't teach tactfulness by itself, not even remotely.


He recoiled when someone came out of the dark and gave the large man a kick to his leg, causing him to fall over. The man disappeared in the darkness again, and seemed to have abducted the girl who'd been with them momentarily as well. Silas just kind of sat there shocked for a moment, until the larger man stood up again and started heading after them, where ever they went. He signalled for Silas to stay, which Silas responded to with a fake smile and a middle finger to the man's back as he left him. He got up from the floor and brushed his pants off. Another couple of convicts came running past him to god knows where, but they didn't stop to attack or talk to him.


Before Silas had made up his mind on where to go or what to do, the man came back again, and more or less threw a corpse at him. “You take this guy, and follow me. Y’heard? We gon’ take the office over. That’s prolly the safest place we could be at. Hurry up.” While all of Silas' gut feelings told him to punch the man in the face, his smarter side took over for once, and he realized he might end up like the guy next to him, and the plan wasn't anything less than what he was planning to do anyway. "... Fuck it. Alright." He gripped the unconscious guy's collar and started sliding him after himself as he followed the girl and the big dude.


He stopped when they got to the office, and looked at the door. "Well, shit. Now how do we..." He was cut off by the loud noise produced when the large guy kicked the door in. "(What) The shit, dude? It's not so goddamn secure now, is it?" He said, but dragged the body in nontheless.


“This’ll be good, for now. Both y’all get in here. Take that unconscious douche, put the straight jacket on his ass, and cuff his feet together. Tight. I’ma guard the door so no fuck-shit happens.”


The words fell flat on Silas. He'd seen something entirely different that caught his attention. He went quiet for a few seconds, then dropped the body, letting it fall on the floor with a loud thud. "Yeah right. Like I have a clue how to do any of that. Let bomberchick to it instead." He slid over to the computer, and practically threw himself in the chair. He lowly whispered to himself "Sweet, oh sweeeeet technology." He started messing about with it, and kept chanting to himself constantly. "~Ooooh, someone left their things unlocked~!" He was pretty much chirping all the way through.

 

[Alexandra95]

Alex was irritated, although it wasn't easily noticeable compared to her usual grave serious face. In just one night she had been saved twice by this big man in front of her. Being the tough girl she was, she had always taken care of herself. This had hardened her to who she is today. She wasn't used to having someone take care of her, like a guardian angel. Frustration went through her mind, but she kept quiet about it.


Being a bit distant after what had just happened, her heart skipped a beat when Damian broke in the door with a bang. He and Silas went in and she followed quickly after. A seemingly dead body was dropped on the floor. “This’ll be good, for now. Both y’all get in here. Take that unconscious douche, put the straight jacket on his ass, and cuff his feet together. Tight. I’ma guard the door so no fuck-shit happens.” Silas went straight to the computer and left the straitjacket to her. She took the lifeless body and him into the straitjacket, finding herself able to easily fit it despite never having done it before. She made sure to tighten the belts extra tight, squeezing the body. The handcuffs were left overs. After taking a look at them, she hooked them to the back of her pants, for future use.


As the muscular Damian was guarding the door, Silas had his eyes hooked to the computer screen. Come to think of it, she didn't know the name of anyone here. She wasn't social and hadn't spoken a word, but her mind told her knowing people's names were customary regardless. Her mind drifted off, thinking of the manly man in front of her's past. For some reason there was something about him that intrigued her. She couldn't help but wonder what the story of the man was. He was brutal, being easily able to kill people, yet calm, and unlike the other guys in the facility he hadn't thrown insults at her or tried to do anything to her. In fact, he had saved her twice. Why?


Alex' look was way off. She stared emptily into nothingness, and her eyes were cold and emotionless. Usually they were hidden by dark sunglasses, but she had no such things in this place. In the office were no caps, no sunglasses, nothing. Inside her mind however were thoughts and confusing feels she'd never experienced before. They weren't serious, but puzzling to say at least. She took another look around herself. It seemed like they had become a team now. Judging from the looks, the strong man was the muscle and the head of the group, Mr. Gamer over here the computer nerd, and herself... other than a pyrotechnic, she wasn't sure what role she had in the group. What could she do without explosives or fires?


The silence was broken off by the dark, coarse and sharp, but low, voice of hers, cutting through the room. "Your names." This was the first thing she had said since she was put into the facility. She wasn't a known talker, so she only said the bare minimums of a sentence. It could be hard to catch what she said, but repeating herself was not an option.


"I'm Alex."





@Braxnond


@Prizzy Kriyze

 

[Kazanna]

There were goblins, and ghouls and all kinds of trolls, and odd creatures in her path. But Lily didn't mind. They were ignoring her mostly, running about, doing what they wanted. So she could do what she wanted. They snarled at her, and made strange noises, some reached for her, but she just kept moving along, not minding them.


Lily Kolkas was in her own little world.


She was on a quest now, she needed to find a sword so she could get past the guard that was guarding the path that would lead to the dragon. Without the sword, she'd never be able to defeat the guard, or the dragon, So she had to find a sword.


Lily Kolkas came upon a short dagger in her own little world.


She had stumbled upon the gleaming dagger, and reached down to pick it up. She spun it in her hand and muttered, "This will do until I find a suitable sword."


In reality, Lily had exited her cell, and was walking along the cell block's upper walkway, walking past other prisoners who were just as crazy as she was while they screamed at her and shouted various lewd comments about what they wanted to do to her. She had stumbled across a shiv that had been dropped during the chaos of the power outage. Now, she'd tucked the shiv into the hem of her pants, and was continuing her way through the cell block, ignoring everything around her.


Lily Kolkas was trapped inside her own fantasy.

 

[MrWeirdbraxto]

(Not much to say here really, sorry!)


Such a large amount of time has past since Eul has fallen to the unconscious state that was not brought upon by his own hand, or that of his Lord. Such darkness engulfed Eul's mind, tainting his rather fluid and vigorous thoughts. These thoughts and nightmares were suddenly silenced, such silence may have tainted his mind further then the darkness itself had. For, in silence held a glimmer of peace; such pure peace that may only be rivaled by that of death's ultimate darkness and silence. Eul could not decide upon this most ultimate of choices, for is he driving thyself to madness, or is thy silence driving him mad even farther? Though, thy blissful silence was fading. Such an escape did not come for long, nor close to permanent. Light glimmering from the mortal world began to shine it's gleam in the mind of Eul though the mind's personal portals, a mortal's eyes. Accompanied by the gleam of yet another substance, but what was such substance, blood?


Eul let out quite a sickly sounding and struggling cough. " Ekhm ekhm ekhm!" Eul attempted to grab his throat, hoping to sooth the pulsating pain from being strangled in to darkness, but alas, his arms were disabled at the time being. Still dazed from just returning to consciousness, Eul was astonished at the strait jacket that now encased his torso. "Was der Fick?! To be imprisoned even after thy Lord has willed thee to be free! Such actions that thyself might only expect from such lowly nichtgläubigers... Thy brutish bastard, for you are the one who has done such unjust things to The Prophet! May thy Lord above bring harsh and merciless punishment and smite upon thy head!" With quite a pathetic struggle, Eul was but unable to escape the cloth prison that encased him, for giving his escape all of the energy that was encased in his body was not sufficient.


Eul glared to the beast and the woman in which he had ambushed just a bit before, barely making himself to stand upon his own legs. He walked up to a rather secure distance behind the duo, not wishing to start a rather physical contact in his current impaired state. "Would thy bodies care to free thyself from such embarrassing prison wraps, for I have not wrong to the point of harm!" Eul could not help himself but to become infuriated, being constrained by mortals and being other than his own Lord was not just to such man of faith was humiliating. Eul would such tear apart thyself before a mortal man would encase him in yet another prison where he is not able to take the will of thy Lord.


Eul peered to the woman apparently named 'Alex', the woman in which he had taken during his mad rant to the excitement of blood and freedom. "To answer thy petty question, thou may know me as Eul; For, to call me by such other than said name would to recommend that you actually know myself."

 

[Brax]

A twitch of the nose gave way as Alex simply said two words. Originally, Damian had not understood what the woman had said, so he simply let it go. There was no point in trying to answer something, statement or question, when he had no idea what it was. Honestly, Damian definitely did not care enough to answer such, either. In the faint background, blatantly audible in the moments of silence which surrounded the four within the office, the man was able to hear the sound of keys tapping. The person whom they had picked up along the way was using a computer. This automatically meant that he knew a thing or two about such; well, Damian put it together as such. No one really had such nerve to check their social media webpages – especially in the middle of a potential prison break, right?


“You good with them thangs?” Damian asked, implying the use of computers. “You thank you could do somethan’ ta benefit us? Or you thank we sittin’ ducks?” In the midst of awaiting the answer, the man whom Damian had previously rendered unconscious would stir, before making a couple of interesting sounds. He… Was coughing? Damian was standing halfway through the door, occasionally looking back to check on the status of the rest of the ‘crew’ he had seemingly gathered up. Half of the unintelligible dribble that had flowed from the lips of Eul had passed Damian completely, but it did not stop the man from offering a reply.


“Ain’t never been a man of God myself. See how far it got you?”


A small smirk would cross the man’s lips, half-taunting the other who had been bound to a straight jacket. His right hand held onto the grip of his baseball bat, the tip of which would be dropped into his other hand every couple of seconds. As far as he could tell, the group would be clear at their current place for a while. No one had bothered getting into their spot, or trying to – which was a plus, obviously. When the crazy man gave his name, Damian raised his eyebrows before shaking his head from side to side.


“My name ain’t important, but it’s Damian.”


At the end of it all, Damian felt that it was no harm to tell these people his name. After getting out of the prison, it was not like he would see any of them again. He did not enter with the intention of making lifelong friends, nor did he think he would by the time he exited. Now that it was increasingly plausible that he would be able to escape earlier than his punishment foretold, such ideology continued to run in full effect. Leaning back against part of the frame belonging to what was once a door, Damian would not listen to hear the names of the others. He still did not know what the female’s name was. He had not been told; either that, or he sure as hell was not listening. Obviously, the latter was true.


“If only, anyone gave a shit enough to let us know what the hell is goin’ on. I ain’t surprised, though. If it were me, I wouldn’t wanna come here deliverin’ no news.” This statement was offered under his breath, but he expected at least one person to catch it.

 

[DescriptedEnd]

Spoiler

Paolo continued to drag Kurtis along, completely ignoring the screams of the other insane inmates. It surprised him that more of them weren't escaping, but at the same time, it was expected. These were truly insane criminals, and they probably didn't even realize what was going on as of this moment. He smirked, feeling better about his position. Paolo was smart, Paolo was brave! He chanted this in his head, the thought echoing around his skull until it made it’s way to his mouth, at which point he started to chant it in a low, singsong voice. For a moment, he felt weightless, all powerful, a maniacal grin coming to his face. But, that all came to a stop when the prisoner at the last cell came rushing at him. All at once, he came crashing down from his make believe as a set of clammy hands wrapped themselves around his throat. “Shit!” he rasped, clawing at the offenders face.


Kurtis’s anxieties were starting to creep in – not at all helped by Paolo’s rhythmic chant – and he nearly jumped out of his skin when the prisoner shot out of the cell. A split second hesitation set in – was a cannibal worth this? But that thought was gone in the same moment it arose, and the guard lunged forward. His gun was not an option; it was not necessary – yet. He struck the attacker’s face with his elbow, and then kicked out the prisoner’s knee. He rounded on Kurtis as he stumbled, and caught himself on the guard’s waist, driving them both into the wall.


Paolo hissed when the guy was tackled off of him, throat stinging and lungs desperately gasping for air. That guy had a grip, he ha


d to admit. But he was outnumbered; and Kurtis had a gun. Grunting, he pushed himself up and crouched in a primal stance, looking like a panther about to pounce upon its prey. The look in his eyes was something beastly too; narrow, filled with anger. “Mad!” he screamed - as was a habit of his, yelling out his extreme emotions - and grasped the other prisoner by the back of the neck, wrapping his arms around said body part.


He started pulling back, yanking the criminal off of Kurtis. Don’t be confused; he wasn’t trying to help Kurtis at this point. Rather, he was trying to get revenge; and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted flesh other than his own. The maniacal grin returned to his face as he made the other male lay down flat on the ground, squirming and hissing curses at the cannibal. Paolo knew he was weaker than him, so he acted quickly. Grasping at the spinal cord in his neck, he dug his nails in. They were long and ugly, but sharpened by careful practice. Efficient enough, they were, and while he could feel his nails breaking and the pain searing up his fingers, his enemy started to bleed. Paolo felt bone under his fingertips; getting the best grip he could, he pulled. As he was pulling, the other guy screamed and reared up, providing Paolo with enough leverage to pull out a bit of the spinal cord.


His opponent stopped moving. Paolo could feel the raw vibrancy of adrenaline coursing through his veins and felt absolutely invigorated. All he could hear was blood rushing through his ears and the pounding of his heart. But Paolo found himself not hungry. Glancing over at Kurtis, he sighed. That man was his only way out of here, so it was best not to scare him off. He stood up, simply watching the guard and waiting for a reaction.


Kurtis, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. His brain was fighting against itself. On one hand, Paolo had saved him. From what? He didn’t know. He doubted that he actually wouldn’t have been taken out by this prisoner, so he was saved from having to shoot the man – if it came to that. On the other, Paolo just ripped his spine right out of the back of this poor man’s neck. But then there was this one fact: Paolo did not hurt Kurtis. It was purely for his own survival, but he did not hurt him.


Kurtis let his arms drop to his sides stiffly, from where they were protecting his face and chest. He tore his eyes away from the man, blood still spilling out across the floor from the hole in his neck. He looked Paolo in the eye, and silently prayed that he wouldn’t have to ever watch this man eat another. “So, the office?”


“Yeah,” Paolo nodded, heart starting to beat slowly. He resisted all temptations to start consuming the now dead man and instead, wiping the blood onto his already stained pants and holding it out to Kurtis. Paolo may have been insane yes, but he was insane because he wasn’t afraid to go over the limits of what was deemed okay. He could still think, plan, figure things out. Averagely smart but still insane; and it had gotten the better of him before. He wasn’t sure if the officer was going to take his hand or not, but nonetheless, he continued to stick it out. “We need to get going.”


Kurtis kept his eyes focused on the cannibal’s face when he took his hand. He could feel his long nails graze against his palm; he could feel the blood staining his fingers. He pushed away the urge to flinch; to shiver; to run. He hummed in agreement, forcing his voice to not rise too high. “Before anyone else joins, the party, yeah?”


He dropped Paolo’s hand. Kurtis stepped over the man’s body and walked away without hesitation, leaving his lingering soul behind. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead of visibly wiping the blood off his pants. He didn’t wait for Paolo; he knew he would follow.


Stopping in front of the Special Containment Office at the end of the hall, he fished around until he pulled out a keycard from his pocket. “I’m not sure what we’ll find in here,” He said to Paolo, unlocking the door and pushing it open. It creaked on its hinges – it hadn’t been used a whole lot to begin with – and the room inside opened to darkness. “If there are any files in here, they’re probably about you and your mates.”


Paolo nodded - which he quite obviously knew that Kurtis couldn’t hear - and followed him into the office. There were no emergency lights in here, so the cannibal started to blindly fish around the drawers of the desk his hip had clipped when he’d entered the room. His fingers brushed against a small box and he yanked it out. It was a match box - the textured strip on the side was a dead giveaway. Opening said box, he pulled out a match and blindly struck it against the strip. The first time, the wooden stick failed to light - so, grumbling, he tried again. This time, a spark flew off and a small flame erupted at the top of the match. It didn’t provide much light, but it provided enough that he could see what was in the drawers of the desk he was looking through.


Kurtis pulled out his flashlight before he started to explore the room. It was small – just barely bigger than the battery it contained. It only lit up a circle the size of a dinner plate, but it lit up enough for the guard to not run into anything – unlike Paolo. He began searching through a file cabinet against the wall and he started flipping through the contents. Most of them were old reports, and old prisoner files. Since no one was a fan of the Special Containment block to begin with, its mini-office was treated a little bit like a warehouse. Most of the names he didn’t recognize.


Kurtis then swapped to the next file cabinet. This one had more current happenings within the Special Containment Block, and in the second drawer, current Special Containment Block prisoners. “I found you guys,” He said, pulling out a wad of the files and walking over to Paolo. He tossed them on the desk, and shined the flashlight on them. His eye caught the sight of “PAOLO STIMAC” written across one of the files. His eyes then switched to cannibal’s face for a moment, lit up in the match’s light. It added an ominous glow, and the flame made his nerves wind up. Not only could the papers catch fire, but its wielder could do anything with it. “Anyone in here spark your interest?”


While Kurtis did that, Paolo managed to find a couple batteries in the normal drawers, but the drawer labeled ‘confiscated’ was the most interesting. Inside was a small switchblade - how odd, Paolo had thought, that somebody had managed to get their hands on that - and a makeshift weapon founded from a pen. He ignored the coins and other objects that were in there and ignored anything but possible weapons. When Kurtis tossed the files on the desk, he paused. “Hey, that's m’ file!” he gasped, picking it up.


He didn’t bother reading a whole lot of it, just looking around to see what all they’d written under behavior. Nothing really caught his eye, so he set down the file. “Not really,” he rasped, lighting another match and snuffing out the old one. “I’m gonna need new clothes…” Looking down on himself, he saw that he was covered in blood - which wasn't something he minded - but the brown jumpsuit he was wearing was hideous and, to be honest, uncomfortable. He glanced around at the shelves, looking for anything else that was interesting.


“Dunno what you’ll find for clothes, I hope you aren’t picky,” Kurtis mumbled under his breath, picking up a few of the files Paolo had ignored. Counts of kidnapping, counts of property destruction, counts of self-harm, counts of murder – it took a high level of insanity to get locked up here. One of the files sited fifteen first-degree, “unconventional” murders. Kurtis flipped over the paper to find a picture of a small brown-haired girl, labeled “LILY KOLKAS”. He wondered where she was in this chaos. Was she curled up in her cell, or did she have enough mind to walk out?


“There might be a few guard uniforms around here,” He commented, tossing the files back on the table. “You could put on one of those if you find it.” It crossed his mind that there could be a keycard or something in the pockets of the uniform. He considered telling Paolo to let him inspect it first, but kept it to himself. He didn’t want to push the cannibal. “And when you’re done, let’s go to the main office. We’ll find more files there.”

 

[Kazanna]

Lily encountered yet another Goblin, her dagger came to bear swiftly and she cut the things throat as it charged at her. It was heavier then she expected, but it meant little as she let it roll over her shoulder. She turned and let the thing flop back, she took her dagger and pushed the thing onto it's back. It wasn't quite dead yet, so she began stabbing it, just above where she knew it's heart was.


Lily was gathering supplies.


"Kill it dead but not the head don't stab it in the eye, for if you do you shall surely die. Slice it's stomach and spill it's guts and it will scream aloud, make it know that you are nuts and it will..." She paused, running out of things to rhyme with, "Feed it lice.. Yeah... Lice..." She muttered as she killed the thing.


She carefully slashed open it's stomach, and cut out it's heart, followed by it's liver and it's stomach. She cut open the stomach, tying one end shut, she poured the icky icky acid out of it's stomach, shaking it out. She took a moment, and then shoved the liver and the heart into the stomach, before she tied the other end off, and added it to her slowly growing collection, she had three so far, so this was her fourth, she tied the stomach to the backpack she had acquired earlier, and dropped it into the sack like pouch.


Lily was quite good at gathering supplies.


Lily sat back, and glanced up and down the hallway, it was dark, and she knew at the end, there was a sphinx, there was always a sphinx, so she'd bribe it with livers and hearts, rather then answer the stupid riddles.


"Off to see a sphinx, to get into the... rings... things... clinks... Ah!! I don't know!!" She muttered, rubbing her head with her bloodied hands. She sighed, and pushed herself up, continuing her bloody path down the hall.


Lily had gained quite a few supplies.


In reality, Lily had killed another one of the psychopaths, and cut him apart. She backpack she had acquired, was another straight jacket that another denizen of the prison had converted to a bag. Now she'd filled it with guts full of livers and hearts. She was coated in blood, wandering down the hall, there was blood dripping off of her, and her footprints were a deep crimson as she began to hum.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

"Your names."


Silas stopped, got a disbelieving look in his eyes, and looked over at the girl. "Eh?" He arrogantly asked. "Whaddaya care?" He said with a sarcastic frown on his face. "I'm Alex." He looked back at the computer screen and sighed. "Silas." He said before resuming his search for... Well, whatever, really.


“You good with them thangs? You thank you could do somethan’ ta benefit us? Or you thank we sittin’ ducks?” Silas did another brief pause to look at the big muscular guy - who he was quite thankful wasn't currently breaking his skull against a wall, so that's nice - who'd just asked him the question. In the little respect he had for not getting murdered combined with the distraction provided by the computer he didn't respond with spitefulness for once. "Yeah, I'm pretty damn good with them, but that doesn't help when the hardware ain't functional. The power's out, so this laptop is going to run out of power eventually too, and I can't do anything to the prison itself." He looked back at the screen and sighed. He could at least gather as much information as possible.


The big muscular started talking to the crazy guy they put in a straitjacket, and Silas let go of the short conversation. The tip of his tongue stuck out of his mouth as his brain worked. Little could be done here, but what exactly should he find out? What would be useful? He closed his eyes and leaned his head forward. Think. Think. He opened his eyes and stared at the keyboard in front of him. It was like the keys spelled a message for him. A map. A map. A map would be awesome. He looked back up at the screen again and started clicking away.


He gave out a brief chuckle, leaned back in his chair and snapped his fingers as he'd made a habit out of whenever he made any progress. He looked over to the girl and smirked maliciously. "You. You blew that guy's head up, right? What can you do with some real explosives?" He said with a diabolical expression. He turned back towards the laptop and continued. "I've only got a map of this floor, but some of these files hint at an armoury that's in the basement. There's a flight of stairs just out that door we just came in leading down to there. Want to check it out...?!" Excitement could be heard in his voice as he pulled the cords out of the computer and picked it up, holding it under his arms.


(All canon added in the post confirmed by Des ;P)