Everyone remembers the tales of pirates right? The life of adventure, treasure, wonder, mystery, passion, and glory. These are the words that are associated with the word pirate…usually. Depends on who you're asking.
If you were to ask the average person, in the average city, on the average island today, you may hear words like dirty, evil, vicious, seditious, treasonous, and worst of all…nonexistent.
Not sure you heard about it but, a long while back, some young girl decided to lead our world into an industrial revolution. Some young girl by the name…Elizabeth Vegapunk I think.
Anyways she was apparently the daughter of some genius who was a big part of the Marines.
His daughter however, was an even bigger genius than he ever was.
The things she did…I still can't believe are possible! Did you know that if you press a button, you could speak into this device and have a conversation from somebody on the opposite side of the world? Not like a Den Den Mushi, it was better than that.
She did lots of other cool things too; everything's powered by electricity now, even some people. Some ships now sail underwater, I even heard from someone she's working on vessels that can fly!
But, she's made plenty of destructive devices; guns that don't run out of bullets, massive warships made of metal, bombs that can obliterate whole islands are of common use nowadays. Or so I hear…
Needless to say this woman was with the Marines and they really began to crack down on piracy. But the pirates that do survive just grew stronger to keep up with the new fighting force.
Marines have been claiming territory for a while, which always pisses me off. The sea can't be controlled by a piece of paper. But they did it. Labeled large areas of the water like the East and South Blue, and large pieces of the North Blue and the Grand Line. But the West Blue has been keeping independent for a while now…
Still…I miss the good old days.
Marineford: Capital of Marine Space.
The destroyed buildings left behind in the Great War have long been replaced with skyscrapers and multi-complexes. It's population has reached over 1.2 million since the turn of the decade. Most say it's the central hub of civilization on the Grand Line.
A city ridden with crime and pollution is what it truly is.
A parade is being held on South Street, in honor of Celestial Dragons Meredith and Theodore. Many crowded on the sidewalks just to get a glimpse of the alleged Dragons. I am among them, on the balcony of some maid restaurant, trying to keep unnoticed in the sea of sheep.
Theodore was the one on the right with black hair, crooked teeth and the vulgar habit of picking his nose through his bubble.
Meredith was the one with a long crooked nose and wore enough make up to join a circus.
Just like their ancestors before them, they're truly despicable people. Despite our many advancements in culture they still have the audacity to enslave innocent bystanders on the street. And they have only gotten worse and worse with every new generation, each one more corrupt and spoiled then the last.
There they sit, in their thrones being lifted by enslaved men, looking rather annoyed at all the people staring at them with unease.
-BANG-
Meredith fires her gun into the air, hundreds of people ducking and yelling in fear.
Meredith then pulls out her Magni-Phone to proceed to order every person to cheer and celebrate their arrival.
A Magni-Phone is a device that can magnify anyone's speaking voice depending on the power level. A Den Den Mushi has been put on one end of the device, with a speaker on the other. Usually carried by officials and other Upper Classmen.
"We grace you by allowing you to stand at our presence, and yet you do not applaud our entrance?" Meredith shouts in snoot anger, her voice sounding like that of a cackling witch.
Eventually all the people realize their wrong ways and immediately applaud the high polished scum.
All except me.
I can see arm guards at their sides and platoons parading the streets, their guns flashing in the sunlight.
I can do this. One shot, and that's the end. I'll have proven myself. Then I will see…Katherine…
My palms are sweaty. My hand reaches for my inner jacket pocket.
The parade float is getting closer to my position; I begin to push through the crowd of people.
My left hand is resting on the railing; my right is on the handle of a RR. Pistol.
RR. Pistols fire rifle caliber ammo in a revolver's clip. This is achieved though a mechanism where when the gun is cocked, the revolver extends itself to allow a longer barrel so the bullet may be fired properly. Also, instead of having an iron sight like the traditional guns, this was the first series to have built in short-medium ranged scopes. While more accurate to other pistols, it wasn't nearly as effective due to a slower rate of fire compared to the A.A. Pistols with their automatic firing. Production was discontinued amongst the Marine's line of weaponry.
Its bone handle felt smooth on my palm. I realized once I pull it out I will have little to no time to line up a shot.
Their float is just a few feet from being directly in front of me.
I closed my eyes, and counted.
One…two…
I pulled the gun out and looked down the sight.
-CHUCHIK-
I cocked the gun. People began to push away from the sight of my gun.
The crosshairs was right at his temple.
Three.
-BANG-
-BANG- -BANG- -BANG-
The sounds of hammer strokes on metal, perfect way to wake up in the morning.
"Your awake. Didn't think you'd ever 'vake up."
That was my grandpa, poking his head through the doorway with a hammer in one hand and a metal pot in the other.
"Damn it old man, my head hurts enough as it is."
Grandpa laughed. "It 'vill hurt even more in 'bout five seconds vhen this pot collides with your thick skull! Now geet up! We hav' much 'vork to do."
My grandfather's a real nice guy…really.
He came from a summer island in the North Blue, trying to make a name for himself in the big city: ended up with a small scrap metal shop in the Outer-Ring of the city.
Of course he used to be in Mid-town for a few years, and despite not living there for several years, he still brags about being the big shot.
Esteban Cheshire: Big shot Scrap-Dealer in Mid-town. Got kicked back by loan sharks and other crooked business owners after he started expanding into their territory.
And there's his grandson: one Samuel Cheshire, employee of a small Scrap-Dealer shop, no girlfriend, no M.U. Degree and no future ahead of him.
That's me by the way.
The Marines began a nationwide education system exactly seventy years ago. In order to obtain any real worth while career or just one that is funded by the government, you must have acquired a Marine University degree in the respective field of work.
It's not all bad though, I'm better off than most people I suppose. I mean, I'm only twenty one. I've got plenty of life left in me to turn this existence around.
After a few attempts I finally pulled my lazy but out of bed, observed my surroundings.
My bedroom is directly above the shop. It has a bed supported by polished piping, a clothing dresser, a table I built out of scrap when I was twelve, and one big window of South Street.
In Marineford, the city has developed far over the normal landmass it was originally build on. It has expanded into three areas: The most important buildings are at the Core, where the richest of rich and important reside. Then there is Mid-town, where most large corporations and businesses reside. And the largest is the Outer-Ring; the scummiest of poor and those unfortunate to have crossed Mid-town's players reside. Being that the entire city is a perfect circle, there are four main streets that are the respective directions (North, South, East, West.)
I looked out the window as I combed my shaggy blond hair back. Hundreds of people gathered around the edges, as if they were waiting for something.
Must be some celebration going on…good for them.
I scratched my chin in disinterest, I hadn't shaved in forever so I had quite a goatee going on.
I slipped on a jump suit, blue and faded and stained with grease, with the symbol of the shop's mascot on the left chest area. It was supposed to be a little cartoon goat chewing on a gear but the stitching had almost all fallen out.
On the back it had the family last name on the back, but even there the stitching had all fallen out.
"'Vork! 'Vork! 'Vork! The sharks are coming!" I heard grandpa call to me.
It was his little inside joke about our scrap-dealers.
"I'm coming old man! God forbid you may die if I'm not there to wipe your ass!"
I pulled on some old boots and rushed down the stairs.
I don't know how he does it, but Esteban can open up shop faster than I could take a piss.
The shop was small in stature, just like its owner.
He was short, fat, had only a few tails of hair on the back of his head, and wore the same jumpsuit I did but with pants over the legs.
Most of the day we take customers' scrap they salvage off of God knows what, and barter off the scrap we take in. Some times someone calls in need of a spare part and we track it down to sell it for a higher price.
Not the most honorable business but…we all need to live right?
We sometimes even keep scrap and fashion it into more valuable items: rebuilding an engine to a jet waver, tables and bookshelves fashioned out of pipes, lots of neat stuff.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs to an empty store, only grandpa stood behind the counter.
"'Vhere are the sharks?" I mocked him.
He frowned. "They are ull at that damn monstrosity out there." He said in anger.
He grit his teeth as I walked in. "I'll never accept what them Drakes do to our fellow man. We should be shooting 'zem, instead we celebrate 'zem!"
I sighed and put my hand on his shoulder. "Don't rock the boat alright? Don't draw attention…hold out until the ride is over ok?"
He chuckled at this. "For me it could be yearz. You still have lifetime to deal 'vith 'zis crap."
"I'll deal with it when I actually give a damn, now come on."
-RING- -RING-
"Phone's ringing." I told him.
He nodded his head and gave me a tired smile.
He picked up the receiver. "Cheshire Chop n' Shop, diz iz Esteban, how can I help you?"
I pat him on the back and went back to the garage area where we kept most our tools.
Power saws, drills, a few motorized screwdrivers. But our most impressive piece of equipment, and my favorite, was the Smelt n' Sheeter.
It had this huge drum that, when full of scrap parts, heats up to over 800 degrees.
Melts the scrap down to liquid metal, pours it into these two giant rollers and BAM!
Fresh, clean looking sheet metal.
I bet that thing is older than Esteban.
In fact…it IS older than Esteban. Was made at the turn of the era.
The year date of this world was reset to 0001 A.D. after the defeat of the current Pirate King, Monkey D. Luffy. Although it was considered a defeat, several records show that it was a surrender more than a defeat. But the Navy was just using the cover of "defeat" to increase their power and discourage new coming pirates.
The current date is 0039 A.D.
"Sammy!" Grandpa shouted. "Ve're going to hav' company in about thirty minutes. Jerry's going to want his new procezzor when he get's here!"
"SHIT! He does know that a faster job decreases the quality right?" I yelled back, setting down the power saw I was polishing.
"He'll pay double!" Esteban yelled back. "Which means you get hhalf of the total pay!"
We set up a certain pay split for every possible situation.
A rush job for me is 50/50, a week long job for us is about 40/60, normal jobs is about 25/75 with Esteban getting the bigger half every time.
I looked through the big blue tool chest to find a PIX stick, and a tiny screw driver to get the rest of the job done.
A PIX stick is the equivalent of a combination of a soddering iron with a blow torch, mostly used for small wielding of wires and melding of circuit boards.
On the desk was a metal device that was about the size of a match book, green with dozens of wires and little dials and even smaller processors on that.
A master processor for an android.
As mentioned before, the use of androids was perfected after the release of the PX series. However, they were remodeled to be used for less violent and more personalized by civilians. They are virtually identical to normal humans, a part from the company's symbol located somewhere on their body. There has been controversy about android use.
Jacque Valentine was kind of a creep: he owned a restaurant near the border of Mid-town but still in the Outer Ring.
But…he has a certain…thing for androids.
All of his waitresses were androids, and they wore…really revealing maid outfits.
How do I know?
Because my grandpa took me there for my sixteenth birthday!
And didn't even bother telling me that they weren't human in the first place!
Especially when I thought that one of them had the hots for me!
…I don't think on it too much but…it still kind of hurt…
Anyways, I flipped on a pair of magnifying goggles and began soddering wires together.
What many people don't know, apart from those who actually own an android, is that they are very high maintenance. Without any work done on them, they would barely last a decade. Processors have to be replaced, they need to have at least an annual check up.
It really didn't take that long compared to the other projects: I finished in about twenty minutes of work.
I screwed in the case and it was ready to go.
This master processor was specifically used for controlling the coordination of the limbs on the androids.
I remember Grandpa teaching me that the best way to disable an android was to go for the lower-central part of the chest, where the breast bone would join. This was where this processor was located usually.
We've constructed quite a few parts for androids, not just for Jacque and his fleet of floozies.
I was putting away the PIX Stick when the bell at the entrance of the door jingled.
-DINGLING-
"Company's here!" That owe-too-familiar voice shouted.
I sighed as I removed my welding gloves and walked out front.
Jacque was a very tall and distinct Northerner with wavy black and gray hair. What I always thought was his defining feature was his crooked nose that pointed upward even with his head pointed straight forward.
He was in his blue business suit: not his best suit but enough to make him look appropriate for a walk through the Outer-Ring.
Under his arm was a woman I've never seen before: About my height, tan skin with straight bleached hair that was cut at an angle so it looked squareish near her neck, a very developed body with a thin stripped dress on that was black and white.
I could almost tell she was an android: she just looked so…not real.
I guess it's in the eyes. Most people claim they can't tell the difference but I can usually tell.
Now if only there was some competition for being able to tell if someone was an android or not. Then I'd be set for life.
"Well well well," Jacque said with a modest grin, "Little Sammy Cheshire. How's business lately?"
I shrugged. "Fine I guess. And for God's sake I'm 21."
He chuckled. "I don't care HOW old you are; you're still a kid to me."
He rubbed the woman's arm; she seemed to acknowledge it. "Meet Stella: newest member of Fine Dine. Ordered her from that fancy store on North Street. Isn't she a beauty?"
I looked at her; she looked at me and blinked like she barely recognized my existence. Then I said, "Whatever."
He just laughed again. "Don't worry. She's still in the stages of purchase you know. It takes a day for the personality to kick in, among other things."
Grandpa's hand pushed me to the side as he brought out the processor I fixed. "You know you could save a lot of money of you stopped purchasing androids for your little restaurant. With the cost of maintenance, you'd be better off hiring actual people!"
Jacque pulled out a check book. "What? And loose all my precious babies? Not a chance! Besides…they complain when you slap them on the behind!"
Both Esteban and Jacque always laughed at this, like it was just some inside joke between them.
He scribbled out our payment on the check and ripped it out. "You know…that parade out there's really something huh?"
Grandpa grit his teeth. "Yeah…something shitty."
Jacque nodded. "Despite that…I heard on the radio that there's quite a commotion going on. Something about gunfire."
Grandpa chuckled. "The day one of thoze bloated dragons get axed iz the day I sell this store: Unlikely. It vas probably one of dem doing the shooting."
Jacque put the check on the counter. "Just be weary. I need to get this baby home. Delila can't lie around collecting dust all day now can she."
He gestured Stella to pick up the processor. She held it under her chest and they proceeded out the door.
Grandpa looked down with his eyes half open. I could tell he had stayed up all night working on that processor's parts. All I did was assemble it.
I gave him the check. "Why don't you keep the whole check?"
He stared at it for a long time and pushed it back. "No. A deal iz a deal. I vasn't known as a man who took charity. Even from my own flesh n'blood."
He pushed it to my chest and gave a worn smile. "Take it. All of it. I hav' no need for it at the moment. The shop's doing very 'vell…"
-CLANK-
Just as he said that, one of the lights attached to the walls snapped, the wires ripping out of the walls, and fell into a bin that was fittingly labeled junk.
I looked at him; he looked at me with wide eyes.
We both laughed harder than we had in a long time.
"You see?" He chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. "Even the store is supplying us!"
We had our hands on each others shoulders, trying to hold the other up straight as we recovered from the joke.
Then we looked at each other and smiled.
"I know I don't say thiz enough but…I'm damn glad to hav' you here Sam." He said.
I nodded. "Glad to be here old man."
Then I gave him a strong hug.
…I didn't think that touching moments could happen in these times.
The world is filled to the brim with poverty, crime, and anarchical domination. The rich get rich while the most of us fight over the scraps.
And yet…I didn't care about that.
I've got a grandfather who loves me, and a job that will keep me ok for a little while longer. Sure I got no education, or fancy car or androids, or even a girlfriend.
But…it's nice to think that things are in the shitter just yet.
Grandpa looked down at his wrist watch and looked at me. "The scrap's been here for almost an hour!"
"SHIT!" I shouted.
We have a deal with several scrap traders on the docks that deliver us an entire bin of scrap every week; kind of like a reverse trash day.
However, they don't leave the bins locked. And to us Outer Ringers, an unlocked container is like wrapping it in berri bills.
Esteban shrugged. "Oh relax. Ve'll be fine. Might as well go around back to see vhat's left."
I nodded. "You manage the fort, I'll be back."
He nodded and gave me a salute off.
I walked through the garage to the back door and walked through.
In the alleyway you could hear the chattering and bustling of South Street.
Quite a commotion going on out there.
The bin laid next to the door way: all big and blue with our mascot on the door.
I lifted the door to see the contents.
Not too bad: seems only a few folks saw what was in it and just grabbed what they could carry.
Plenty of pieces of broken devices, dials, a few metal sockets and joints, gears, bolts and nails, screws and hammer heads, the usual.
I found a pretty good data dial inside that no one spotted: lucky us. Those are super rare to find in the scrap.
Those are the dials that are used in every android: they supposedly store electronic frequencies and charges that activate certain parts of their movement and behavior.
Don't ask me how that works, I'm not a programmer.
-BOOM-
Something echoed in the alleyway.
I looked out from the bin and looked at the corner: it wasn't even three meters from the doorstep.
The sound changed: then it sounded like…foot steps.
Running foot steps.
I reached for my back pocket: I kept my trusty crescent wrench there.
I wasn't going to let another bastard steal my scrap.
In almost an instant, a figure turned the corner and collided with me, almost knocking me to the ground.
I swung my wrench instinctively and knocked his hat off.
He pushed away and our eyes met for about a second.
A grown man: scruffy beard, blond hair, brown eyes, and a scar that looked like the letter W on his cheek.
After that brief second, he said one something.
"The revolution has begun…few must die to save the many."
Then he ran as fast as he could down the alleyway and turned the corner.
At that moment, I had no idea the full impact of what he had just done to me.
I looked to the ground at his hat, and at something else he must have dropped.
It was…a gun.
I recognized the model from an artillery guide I used to own: a Rifle Revolving Pistol I think it's called, or R.R. for short.
Gray steel with a bone handle. They don't make those anymore.
The chamber was empty, no ammo had been inside. Yet the muzzle still felt oddly warm.
Then I heard even more foot steps, what sounded like a whole legion of them.
"Oh for God's sakes!" I said and closed the bin door.
"FREEZE!"
In almost an instant, the entire alley was filled with Navy soldiers.
Several of them seemed to have appeared from the roof tops, and roped down on the opposite side of me.
I suddenly realize what was going on.
Shit! That idiot was running from the Navy! I should have caught him!
"Officer! That guy was just…"
-BANG-
One fired a shot at me, hitting me in the leg.
"YEOW!"
That was the first time I had ever felt such pain. I fell to the ground in pain, holding my shin.
"WHAT THE HELL?"
"Another word and we will execute you on the spot!" One of the gunmen shouted.
I looked up in pain and saw one of them walk towards me. With one hand he grabbed my head, pressed me against the scrap bin and put my wrists in hand cuffs.
"You are hereby under arrest for the assassination of Celestial Dragon Theodore. All of your rights have there for been taken away. You will have no due process, no trial, no chance of parole."
…I couldn't even process what was going on.
Me? Kill somebody? How…why am I…
My sight trailed to the ground. The revolver with the bone grip…
I'm…innocent.
"I'm…innocent…"
The officer halted his speech and looked at me in disgust. "You are at the scene holding the weapon. You match the description; northern man with blond hair. You have zero chance of escaping the law."
"No…NOOOO!"
I started struggling even more. He barked an order for back up.
"GRANDPA! GRANDPAAAA!"
I screamed frantically, which might have been my biggest mistake.
I couldn't see anything. I was pressed to the ground.
The only noises I could hear were the sound of the back door slamming open.
Then…
-BANG- -BANG-
Then…it was dark.
And cold.
And I lost consciousness for God knows how long.
I awoke to a hazy and unfamiliar setting.
I felt the sensation of rocking from bellow me; swaying.
I was on a ship: that much I could tell.
I tried to rub my head with my left hand, but my right hand came up with it.
My hands were bound together by metal bands: cuffs.
My legs were in chains as well.
My leg was pulsing from pain. I could see the bullet had been taken out, and they just wrapped it in faded bandages.
I was on a cold, metal floor with my back to a wall.
Metal bars formed a wall in front of me.
I was in a jail cell: that much I could tell.
Beyond that was an empty room with a metal door with a porthole in it. The walls had the insignia of the Marines: two blue half circles with what looked like a skinny wrench underlining it.
My life was fucking over: that much I could tell.
-SLAM-
The door was slammed open, and a huge menacing looking man walked in.
Big upper body, long slender legs, a face that looked like a bull dog. He wore a green suit with a black tie and a ruffled shirt under his suit jacket. And he had the usual Marine jacket/cape with hat like most of those officials wore.
His eyes were dark. Then he tilted his head and showed me his beady black eyes.
"You've caused us quite a problem for us you know." He said, like he was scolding me a little kid. "Did you really think you could have gotten away with it? Was it worth your own life?"
"Please sir." I pleaded weakly. "I'm innocent. I work at a scrap dealer shop…"
"Cheshire's Chop n' Shop yes." He said. "Owned by Esteban Cheshire, a man who was previously held accountable for several debts to several corporations, and fled to the Outer Ring to escape them. Quite a risky move; guess it runs in the family."
I was on the verge of tears. "Please sir! I saw the man! He ran past me! He did! He dropped the gun! I'm innocent!"
He slammed his foot down; the whole ship began to shake.
"Enough. The more you speak of it, the more it upsets me."
He got close to the case, but did not touch it.
"Do you expect me to be able to do anything about this? That you can just give me an excuse and you can go home? To your dirty little shop and sell trash and live happily ever after?"
I got even closer and glared as evilly as I could. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"
He looked into my eyes as I did his. His intense look began to fade.
He stood back up and turned around. "It's out of my hands. The Nobles want the head of the man who killed their Theodore. You are the prime suspect. Even if you had an alibi there's no evading the wrath of the Celestial Dragons."
Something horrible occurred to me in the back of my head.
I crawled back to my original position. "My grandpa's dead…isn't he…"
The man paused before saying, "Yes. The firing squad that apprehended you shot him when he attacked the officer."
I swallowed back a sob, and looked at him.
He turned his head so he was looking at me over his shoulder.
"If what you say is true, you're only alibi is resting at the bottom of the ocean."
Then I couldn't hold it back anymore.
"My grandpa…didn't wanna be buried at sea…he wanted to…be buried with his best girl…at the cemetery around the…"
Tears streamed down my face.
"WHAAAAAHAHAHAAAAA!"
I screamed at the injustices of the world. I yelled for the end to come. I cried in memory of my beloved grandfather.
The man turned his head and left me with these final words.
"We are taking you to the max security prison Impel Down, where you will be held until you will be executed by forty nine gunshots of the forty nine remaining member of the World Nobles. Reflect on your actions until judgment day."
I lost track of when I passed out from the exhaustion, and exactly how long I was out.
It wasn't until I was rudely awoken by the whack of a wooden staff that I resumed my tears.
"The little murderer's crying? Aw, how sad." The soldier taunted me.
There were two of them standing outside the cage laughing.
"No way this loser could have killed a Celestial Dragon. Those are locked up tighter than Admiral Chizurru's virginity!"
They both shared another laugh, I just looked at them in sadness.
Then one of them opened the door and grabbed me by the shoulders.
"Let's go."
I was forced to walk across a steel battleship: although apparently they had finally removed the bullet from my leg.
It still pained me to walk.
Six men with guns followed me from front and behind off the ship.
I walked down to the docks and looked in the distance.
A humongous gray and blue building was in view, like a giant cylinder of despair.
Impel Down.
One soldier nudged me forward to make me move.
My shackles jingled and shook as I stepped towards those humongous gates.
I remembered that the law dictated that anyone who harmed a Celestial Dragon got en entire fleet of Government ships and a Marine Admiral sent after them to bring them in.
I could only dread to think of what they were going to do to me.
-CLANK- -CLANK-
The sound of metal being banged against the floor sounded, making all the soldiers stand at attention and salute.
"Welcome…to my Impel Down." The voice of an old man said.
There was an old man in a purple robe standing at the gates, accompanied by two other guards.
He had a strange striped cap on, a old withered face covered in scars, and held a long metal pitchfork that tinged with blue on the tips.
His face however was very strange: with a very wide brow that stuck out on both sides and a long tube-like chin pointed to the floor.
He coughed and wheezed for a moment. "You know, I've waited several decades to say that, and yet it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth when I say it. But what do I know; he's only been dead for a month HEH!"
"That sort of behavior is very inappropriate at this moment, Warden." The guard to the right said in distain.
Just by looking at him I could tell he was more important than the rest of them: his guard uniform was dark green instead of the regular tan that most of them were wearing.
And his face showed signs of battle as well: several stitched scars across his nose and forehead.
The Marines shouldered their guns and bowed to him before stepping back.
The humongous man with the bull dog face appeared behind me, and walked passed me.
"Here to transfer the prisoner to Level Six, where he will wait until his public execution tomorrow." The man said unemotionally.
The warden nodded. "Well take good care of him Admiral Barros. Guards, escort the prisoner to the decontamination chamber."
Two guards gripped my chains and pushed me forward.
I looked at the bull dog man with awe.
So he's a Marine Admiral?
He didn't look at me as I was pushed through the gates.
Most of the building was solid gray stone, with black metal bars everywhere.
The gates were controlled by huge metallic devices.
One look and I could just tell which panel would open up to the main power line.
Not that I would ever plan to escape…I mean I'm no Pirate King Luffy.
I walked underneath the second gate. The sounds of screaming and yelling could be heard echoing towards me.
They led me to a strange part of the hallway that was covered in metal. A single red circle was painted in the center.
"Step on the circle." They said, pushing me forward.
I obeyed.
-SHUNK-
In an instant, a metal container enveloped me.
Then it started spewing incredibly hot steam in all directions.
For the next minute I couldn't do anything but writhe and scream as incredibly hot steam built up in the small metal room. I couldn't even bump into the walls or my body would be burned.
-SSSSSSSS-
It stopped.
The room was lifted up and left me on the hot metal floor, breathing heavily.
"Sterilization Complete." A woman's voice said.
Two guards grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me forward.
The screams could be heard clearly now. I was blinded by the cleaning process, but I could hear.
Dozens, maybe hundreds of prisoners were being tortured, beaten, maybe even killed in the cells near me.
"We've increased the level of brutality by another 5% in the last month since you've taken charge, Warden." One of the guards said.
"As it should be." The old man said. "We don't want to risk anymore prison breaks since that last fiasco Magellan caused. How long was it? Maybe three years ago. I told him to separate those two pirates, in case they scheme something. But no matter!"
I was dropped to my knees; my vision still hadn't improved.
"In my younger days I dreamed to be in charge of this prison, and now that I'm almost a century old, things are finally starting to…"
He just kept talking about his life and how he wanted to rule and…I didn't really care about what he was talking about.
The floor from bellow us started to descend slowly.
I could hear gears grind: an elevator. Old model, the pistons needed some work.
I don't know how long we were on that elevator, but it seemed like hours.
I tried to open my eyes every now and again, but it was either the pain was too great to open them or the images were too horrible to witness.
Forests of blood…monstrous breasts…bubbling lakes of fire…the howls of wolves…
I felt hot, then burning, then freezing, then…it all seemed to stop.
My vision returned to me, but everything still looked fuzzy.
I could only hear the voices of idle chatter.
"And here you are!" The warden concluded. "Level 6."
It appeared to be quite…plain looking.
Gray walls with dozens of cages of stainless steel studded bars.
The cages were of various sizes, one of them was absolutely humongous. I mean it took up the entire back wall from floor to ceiling.
I was pushed forward, and stumbled a bit past a few cages.
I couldn't see anyone's faces, only vague shadows of who inhabited the cages.
The guard with the green outfit walked past me and pulled something out that jingled.
-CHUNK-
He opened a cage door and held it open as he gestured me in.
I stumbled forward, trying to look at his face as I walked past him.
There was no emotion on his face: in fact, it seemed rather uninterested in what was going on with me.
But, in a split second, my sight seemed to improve just enough for me to get a clear glimpse of his eye.
There was no doubt in my mind that he was an android.
I stepped into the big, dark, and rather empty cage.
"You will remain here, in my cage for the next 24 hours until you will be put to death before a crowd of people." The Warden said rather snidely. "Pleasant dreams, HE!"
He cackled a bit, then coughed a bit, then gestured the guards to follow him out.
Then I was alone; standing in a big dark cage, with only twenty four hours left to live, before I was executed for a crime that I didn't commit.
I fell to my knees and looked down with despair.
Grandpa…he's gone. I'm the only Cheshire left…oh God…
The thought of my entire family line being erased made my stomach turn in knots.
I cupped my hands and pressed them against my face, still sensitive from the initial cleaning.
I cried silently for…I didn't even care how long…
-JINGLE-
Chains rattled in the cage, and they weren't mine.
Then some slight groans and mumbles. I wasn't alone in the cage.
"Is…is someone there?" I said weakly.
"Is someone here?" The deep voice said. "Of course there's someone here."
The figure slid over a bit so his body caught the dim light from the end of the cage, but I could still barely make him out.
It was an old man: he wore the prison pants but had a big black coat draped over his sides with his arms tucked in the sides, leaving his chest bare.
I couldn't see his face that well, only part of his right face was showing. But there was a noticeable scar on his chest. It sort of looked like a check mark.
Why is it criminals have the most obscure scars?
"Well, I'm here." He said bluntly. "Who are you?"
I didn't answer.
"Come oooon." He groaned childishly. "I asked you a question."
I didn't feel like telling this criminal my name, so I didn't respond.
He scoffed. "Well fine, Jumpsuit. Might as well call you that."
He sighed casually. "So, they said you're gonna be executed?"
I decided since I was going to die, I might as well just say so.
I nodded.
Then he chuckled. "Now what could a scrawny little jumpsuit like you have done to get executed?"
I looked at him coldly. "I was framed. I didn't do ANYTHING! I woke this morning thinking I was going to have a normal day at the scrap shop! AND NOW LOOK WHERE THE FUCK I AM! My grandpa's been killed, there's an assassin on the loose, a Celestial Dragon's been murdered, and I was left with the smoking gun! THAT'S WHAT THE FUCK I'VE DONE YOU FUCKIN OLD MAN!"
He didn't respond at first.
I turned around and plopped to the floor.
"Is…is that true?" He asked curiously. "Are you really innocent?"
I looked at him with wide eyes and said, "Yes. I'm innocent!"
He looked at me again, then paused.
And then, smiled.
"I believe you!"
For some reason, just hearing him say that make me feel a lot better.
The first person to believe me was this random old man in the prison of Hell who doesn't even know who I am.
And that just make me feel grateful.
"Thank you. I really appreciate that."
He nodded like he did me a service. "You're welcome."
We sat quietly for a few minutes.
"Samuel." I said. "Samuel Cheshire. That's my name."
"Pleased to meet you." The old man said.
I looked at him, wondering if he was going to give me his name, but I let it go.
"What happened to your grandfather?" The man asked.
And so for the next few hours, we talked.
Well, no so much we as I talked. He just asked questions.
I told him everything that happened to me this morning, and the Admiral that brought me in, and what I saw in the prison.
Then he asked me about…trivial things. Like how those machine people were doing and the flying ships and whatnot.
I told him all I know, being a mechanic, and even went into detail about everything I knew.
He didn't seem to get it, but that was fine. I enjoyed talking.
"You know what Jumpsuit, this has been the best conversation I've had in a long time." He said politely.
I had taken one of the benches attached to the wall as my seat and nodded. "I know…I'm glad to have talked with someone like this before…"
Then there was that inevitable truth that I was to be put to death in less than a day.
My cheerful mood was instantly crushed.
"…before I die."
"Yeah. That kinda sucks." He said.
Although the words sounded disrespectful, he didn't sound the least bit mocking.
He shifted his weight a bit, causing his many chains to rattle.
"Say. Why are you here? You don't seem like a terrible person." I asked.
His eyes lit up. "Say Jumpsuit, you remember the tales of…pirates right?"
"Pirates?" I asked. "Sailing ships, sword fights, treasure, Gold Roger, Luffy, One Piece, those kind of stories?"
He nodded. "I was a pirate. I was one of the pirates from the Golden Age. Being a pirate was absolutely awesome. I had a good crew too. We fought, we ate, we hunted for treasure…it was amazing."
I was intrigued by his words. "Go on."
He then spoke of how he traveled the Grand Line, back before the Marines had taken control of it. He fought countless foes and saw amazing sights that you could never see today.
The more he spoke, the stronger I felt. I even began to imagine what it would have been like, saw like, felt like…to be a pirate.
"That sounds amazing." I said.
He nodded. "It is. The age of Pirates isn't dead, despite what these Marines want you to believe. There are those who still fight, still sail under the Jolly Roger, still seek adventure and excitement!"
I sighed. "Yeah. I bet there are."
I looked down in sadness. "Not that I should care anymore, seeing as how I'm gonna die in a day."
The old man frowned. "Why do you have to be so depressing?"
I looked at him. "Because I'm gonna die you fucking old man!"
He gave me a mean look. "Well EXCUUUUSE me you Damn Jumpsuit!"
We glared at each other for a minute. Followed by a minute of laughter.
I couldn't explain this guy. He could be stupid one second, then mean another, then nice and back to stupid in less than a minute.
And I couldn't help but feel…safe around this guy.
He shifted his weight a bit, and sighed.
"Samuel, I want to thank you."
I looked at him curiously. "What for?"
"These last few hours have been…well…the best few hours I've had in a long time! You're a real cool guy ya know that? I haven't felt this good since I was with my crew."
"What happened to them?"
He looked down in sadness. "It was my own reckless fault. We got separated, and they almost got completely wiped out by the Marines. When I found them, they were barely breathing. So…I gave myself to the Marines so that my crew could have time to escape."
I could see a tear stream down his face.
"I haven't seen them in…years. I hope there alive and well. If anything…I'm glad I was able to protect them."
"I'm sorry I asked." I said respectfully.
He shook his head. "You shouldn't be. That was decades ago. Nothing but a tear."
He tried to pick his arm up, but his arm seemed to be weighted down by his cuffs.
"Now Samuel, I want to ask you a question." He said.
I waited.
"Do you want to find this...person? The real killer?"
"YES!" I shouted immediately.
He nodded. "Now, I'm going to let you in on a little secret…"
He pointed to himself.
"I'm the only guy who can get you out of here."
My eyes grew wide. "Really?"
He nodded. "But here's the catch. If I can get you out of here, you'll be an outlaw. They'll put a bounty on your head probably. They might even send Admirals after you."
My hands were shaking.
"But is that worse than just sitting here, waiting to be executed?"
I stood up tall. "If you can get me out of here, do it."
He looked at me. "Are you absolutely sure?"
I nodded. "If I'm gonna die anyways, it's not like I got anything to loose."
He cracked a smile.
"Now, before we get this underway, there are a few big things you need to know. To get out of here, you have to go from Level 6, to Level 5 and 4 and so forth. You will have a temporary relief from guards for about ten minutes. But if you take too long, they'll start attacking you."
"What can I do? I'm just one guy." I said.
He smiled more. "You have to make allies. This prison is full of pirates, convicts and top class fighters that would gladly fight for a way out of here. Ask them to fight, then open their cages."
I couldn't believe what he was saying. "Are you crazy? You really think this is possible."
He stood up and stepped forward.
His entire body was showing.
The scar on his chest wasn't a check mark, but was in fact an X.
And there was another little scar…under his left eye.
"I know it's possible." He said with a huge grin on his face.
He breathed inwards and screamed, "OOOOOOOOOOY!"
Two guards were rushing towards us.
"He's awake! Trank him before he get's worked up!"
He grinned. "Newbies."
He breathed inward, then…
-BWOOOOOOOSH-
His body seemed to emit an enormous wave of energy.
A wave of nausea came over me.
However, the two guards collapsed on the spot.
One of them slid to the door of the gate.
I could see a set of keys on his belt.
The old man collapsed against the wall.
"Old man!"
"Hadn't done that in…years."
I tried to help him, but he pushed me away.
"No time…you have to hurry. They won't be like this forever."
I ran to the fallen guard, grabbing his keys from his belt.
After several tries, I was able to find the key to unlock my shackles. Then the key to the door.
I flung the door wide open.
"Come on Old Man! Let's go!"
He looked at me tiredly.
"Come on! I can't leave you!"
"Look kid. My time is past. I'm a withered old man. My crew is gone; I'd just get in the way of the new."
He held up a fist: there was an X tattooed to the arm.
"Hey Jumpsuit. When you find the guy who framed you, punch him real hard for me!"
I gave him a big smile and nodded. "I won't forget this…thank you...Pirate King."