Marlton's PoV

"Johnson, why can't you accept the fact that you're not going anywhere?", Bertram chuckled at me. "You and the others are too precious to let go of."

Before any of this, I used to consider myself a well-mannered pacifist, until the apocalypse happened and I met that beautiful maiden. I believe that was the reason why I felt the need to strangle Officer Christopher Bertram. His German accent mocked me, as I balled my hands into fists.

I ignored my violent thoughts, as I paced my cell back and forth, lost in my subconscious. The escape plans laid on the floor neatly, as I began to quietly whimper.

Oh, Misty...

Where are you, my fair sweet maiden?

"Misty...", I mumbled to myself, as I clutched my hair, quite tightly. A few tears began to slowly make their journey down my cheeks. Everything that had happened changed me, physically and emotionally.

I didn't give a damn about it. At all.

"The slut's dead, Darlington!", the voice of Samuel Stuhlinger yelled out, completely pestered by my behavior. "My buddy is gone because of her!"

I snapped my head towards the cell across from me. Furiously, I wiped my pathetic tears away, narrowing my eyes at the man, who insulted my lady.

Stuhlinger sat up on his untidy bed, narrowing his eyes back at me. Currently, he held a piece of raw meat in his hands, taking another bite from it. I scrunched my nose in disgust, as I walked closely to the bars that held me.

"Misty is still alive, Mr. Stuhlinger!", I spat, releasing my contained anger out on him. "She is capable enough to survive in that godforsaken environment!" I felt brave enough to be a little cocky. "Unfortunately, Russman cannot match her durability."

Stuhlinger arose from his bed and headed for his iron bars, gripping them. The fresh blood from the meat dripped down from his mouth to his chin, giving off the impression that Stuhlinger looked like a bloodthirsty beast.

A beast, if it wasn't contained, would have possibly killed me.

"Say that again, Marlton.", he growled, his eyes clicking from behind his thick glasses. He showed off his canine-like teeth at me. "I dare you."

"Bertram, you better shut 'em up.", a cold voice, containing a thick New Jersey accent, suddenly spoke up. "Or do I gotta do it?"

Bertram, who had been enjoying the dispute between me and Stuhlinger, now frowned at a dark cell, which was two places to the left of Stuhlinger's. I craned my head to the left, just as the flicker of a small fire ignited from Billy Handsome's lighter, casting a faint glow on his dangerous features.

A chill went down my spine as I backed away from my bars, wanting to avoid Billy's deadly stare. Not to mention the smoke coming from Handsome's cigarette.

"You know the rules, Handsome.", Bertram walked towards Billy's cell, taking out his batton, as he left my field of vision. I didn't need to go to the bars again to know that Bertram had struck Handsome. The sound of a loud smack, along with a pained groan, told me. "No talking."

I heard footsteps fade away, as the sound of a heavy metal door opening pierced my ears. "Lights out!", Bertram ordered loudly. At his command, all the lights on our hall faded away. I looked up to see my cell light lose its own.

"Damn...", I muttered, as I went to lie down on my bed. The air had begun to get cold, just as Handsome began cursing to himself. According to Handsome himself, he 'brought the feeling of death wherever he went.' Any idiot would believe him, but my intellect reminded me that the heater was broken.

As it got colder, I hugged my shivering form, ever so tightly. I dared not use the unwashed blanket, which was most likely a breeding ground for germs.

As my body grew numb from the air, I began to flutter my eyes closed. That is, until I heard Stuhlinger speak again. However, it seemed that he wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, in fact, I could hear the soft scribble of a pencil.

Quietly, I stood up from my bed, as I scrutinized my eyes closely at the cell across from mine. Taking small quiet steps, I made my way toward the bars of my cell to get a better look of the middle-aged man. Stuhlinger sat on the floor leaning against his metal bedpost, with a book in his large hands. In the dim light from the candle, I was able to spot the pencil that I heard a while ago. From where I could see, I noticed that Stuhlinger's glasses were off and his eyes were closed. What on Earth was he-

"I know you're staring, Darlington.", Stuhlinger whispered loudly. He opened his eyes and turned to look at me. Instead of the usual glares that I received from him, his eyes held something less expecting.

Was he about to cry?

He seemed to notice my shock, as he scoffed lightly. He looked down at his book, indicating that he no longer wished to talk to me. I respected his wishes and began to make the small journey to my bed.

Stuhlinger's PoV

I sighed, wanting a bit of company after so long. Russman was dead and so was 'Bitchy Misty'. Marlton, even though he annoyed me to no end, he was the only surviving member of our group. He lost someone close, like I did. Or did we? After so long, I keep thinking that we're just in a dream. A terrible dream. A dream I wanted to wake up from. The voices no longer talked to me, but there was one thing that made me more delusional than the voices.

Reality. Or was I in a dream?

"I'll wake up soon.", I softly whispered, nodding. "I'll wake up to the smell of Misty's bad cooking. I'll wake up to hear more annoying words from Marlton. I'll wake up to see Russman, my only friend."

I smiled big, letting my tears fall as they stained my rough cheeks. I cried because this could be my reality, forever using my delusions to make me feel better. I smiled because this could all be a dream and I'll wake up anytime soon. Until then, I began to cry more. My smile never faded away.

Marlton's PoV

I sighed in my bed, pitying Mr. Stuhlinger. I wondered if Mr. Handsome was getting irritated by the older man's breakdown. A part of me wanted to go back and reason with Stuhlinger, but it was no use when it came to his emotional breakdowns. The apocalypse broke him, too.

Knowing that it was too late to stay up any longer, I whispered loudly to Stuhlinger, quoting one of my favorite stories. I just hoped that it would lessen his mood just enough for him to go to bed.

"In a Wonderland they lie, dreaming as the days go by, dreaming as the Summers die. Ever drifting down the stream, lingering in the golden gleam life, what is it but a dream?", I closed my eyes after that, hoping to sleep again in this dreary facility.

"Shut up, Darlington.", Stuhlinger replied gruffly in the dark.

No one's PoV

Even if the citation from Alice in Wonderland didn't help Samuel J. Stuhlinger down, it did calm a far more dangerous beast. Billy Handsome. He had eavesdropped on the conversation, in order to ignore the painful bruise that had formed on the side of his head. It wasn't the first time he's eavesdropped on a conversation between Marlton and Stuhlinger, but this one was different. This one actually had meaning. Earlier that day, he listened to Marlton's shenanigans about numerous escape plans. If he was delusional like Stuhlinger, he would've mistaken Marlton as Weasel. That wouldn't be good for the fragile nerd. Tonight, behind his cell wall, Billy could feel the hopelessness in Stuhlinger's tone and the pleading in Marlton's quotation. Those idiots, Billy thought. He knew that prison wasn't the place to give false hope to anyone. So, why didn't he stop Marlton from lecturing Stuhlinger about it in the form of a boring citation? He'll admit it, it sounded hilarious at the time.

Billy shook his head, snapping back into reality, as he took a puff from his cigarette. Thank God, he thought. They didn't confiscate my pack. While he smoked, he listened to their loud snores. How they were able to find sleep in a place like this, was beyond his comprehension. He hated to admit it, but he actually missed Alcatraz. At least there, he had his boys to feel a bit better in their situation. Now, Finn and Weasel were long dead. Sal was somewhere here, probably still awake, but also in despair about everything that had happened before their new imprisonment.

As Billy's mind started to get a buzz-like feel to the nicotine, he started to contemplate on every detail of his past. Living in New Jersey in the 30's was no laughing matter. With no businesses to provide work, most of the boys began to rob every man, woman, and child to survive in a broken era. Billy could've been like the others, he could've been another young adult robbing others to keep himself fed, but he didn't. His mother was a kind Christian woman, and she was determined to shield her only son from the sins that plagued Jersey. His father was a hardworking man, one of the few that actually had a job still, but it wasn't enough. His father had said that he would travel up North to look for another job. Billy remembered the day that two police officers from a small town in New York came to their house. They had found his father's corpse, horribly mutilated by the wheels of an oncoming train to Maine.

He had jumped at the wrong time.

After that, his kind, Christian mother wasn't the same. At all. She had lost her rosy cheeks that he once found lovely, her blue eyes had lost their sparkle, and her strawberry blonde curls faded into a horrible pale color. The most beautiful woman he had ever known was slowly fading away from his eyes.

He could still recall the days that his mother would spend most Sundays out of the house, doing things that a religious woman would find disgraceful. After his mother's sudden death, he decided to get away from New Jersey for good. There was nothing there for him anymore.

Although he would never tell anyone, he had dreams of being a big-time actor. He had the looks and he knew ways of getting what he wanted. He moved to Chicago to start his career, but after that one rainy night in that sinful city...

Billy growled low, as he snapped out of his high haze. That was enough going down Memory Lane, he snorted, as he threw his faded cigarette against his cell wall.

Billy huffed out a long sigh, reaching a hand up to his bruise. It no longer bothered him, which he was thankful for. A shame memories couldn't be the same.

Damn, I feel...sad now. 0.0

I'm sowwy Billy ;-;

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed! Be sure to vote, comment, and follow me! Bye