Hard Time
Ch.7
Kenta held up the bowl right into Pins' face. "Come on man, you got to eat something."
Pins forced the bowl down with one of his hands. "Firstly Kenta, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine really. Second, even if I was hungry, I would rather eat Muk slime than this stuff."
"It's really not so bad." Grant said as he slurped everything in his bowl down in one go. "But if you're not going to eat it, then I suppose you wouldn't mind…" he reached towards the bowl not sitting on the floor in front of Pins, who handed it to him passively. His cell mate's concern was touching really, but he was fine. True he'd done little since he'd been thrown into the cell by the Durants except sit and stare at the part of the wall where he thought the door was. Actually that was all he'd done. Still he was fine. He just wanted to be ready for when Brick came.
"You really think the Warden will keep his word?" Hazel asked.
"In all the years I've been here, I can say that the Warden has never lied, not once. He is quite plain and truthful even, or more likely especially, when the truth is terrible." Jensen said as he sipped his soup. "He may not be a righteous man, but he does value the worth of a man based on his word."
"So remind me again who this guy is Pins?" Kenta asked.
"An old friend…my only friend I suppose. We were partners on the outside, got into a lot of trouble over the years, but I always managed to get us out. Brick, he's more of a physical kind of guy," Pins said with a smile, "while I was the brains of the outfit, so to speak."
"What did you do to get sent here?" Grant asked now that all the soup had been consumed.
"Something I promised I would never do." Pins replied seriously. Then with a smile he said. "I got caught."
The door opened.
Pins sprinted to his feet while the other convicts throughout the wing barley took notice to the metal banging. Yetrius was first in the doorway, and despite that Pins nearly ran up to the cyclops in order to see past him. By now Kenta, Hazel, Jensen, even Grant were all looking towards the door to see this Slaking they had heard so much about. Yetrius stepped aside with what seemed like deliberate slowness revealing—
"I mean, have you ever seriously thought about colors before? What are they? I mean, I know science says it's the whole light waves hitting our eye thing, but what does that even mean? That doesn't describe color; I don't even think you can describe color. How do you explain color to a blind man? And if that blind man was suddenly given sight would he see colors, or would the world just be in black and white to him? Would that mean that all colors are is what we're taught to see? It's an interesting premise. If I taught a child that red was purple and green was orange would a picture he paints of fruit really be any different than one we would paint? Not to him it wouldn't. It would be exactly what he believes it is, just like it would be what we believe it is. Is that where that seeing comes from? Seeing is believing. Perhaps it should actually be: believing is seeing."
Revealing a Marshtomp that stood behind him, blindfolded by a musty rag, smiling while he babbled.
"Arceus, do you ever shut up?" Yetrius cried. "We're here anyway, welcome to wing 13." Though there was no friendly greeting to the way he said it.
"Ah yes, thank you my good man." The Marshtomp said as he stepped confidently into the giant room apparently not hindered by lack of sight at all.
Pins now strode up to the much larger guard, all caution flown to the wind, hate written all over his face. He shoved the Marshtomp aside roughly to get at the Abamasnow. "What the hell is this?" he asked Yetrius, not looking at the new prisoner but gesturing at him.
"Easy pin cushion, he's a transfer. Might be a bit bent in the head, if you know what I mean, still must be a great deal smarter than you though." Yetrius said.
"What about another transfer?" Pins hissed. "A Slaking. From the Infirmary. He was sent there yesterday and he should be here now damn it!"
"Listen to you telling me all about what's going on." Yetrius chuckled mercilessly. "This is the only transfer I got for this wing champ, or any other for that matter. Not to mention, according to the records we don't have any Slaking in the House."
With that, Pins finally snapped. "I want to speak to the Warden." He said, then screaming. "I want to talk to that bastard! Where is he? You're here aren't you? You're listening now you fiery son of a bitch! I know you are. You're always listening!" His screaming of course attracted the attention of the other convicts in the wing. His friends were already coming up to stop his rampage, but Yetrius was first.
With one massive arm the Abamasnow clamped around Pins' neck, not enough to strangle or kill him, but enough to stop his screaming. Pins of course fought back against the grip and even attempted to pierce him with the needles on his body, all of which was useless. "I don't know who you think you are pin cushion," Yetrius growled, "thinking that you have the right to call down the Warden himself. Like he would put everything aside for the likes of—"
"Yetrius do let the poor boy go before you embarrass yourself any further."
Yetrius dropped Pins instantly and was unsurprised by what he saw in the doorway. "Warden in the wing!" he cried and stood at attention. The prisoners froze where they were, some out of fear, some out of respect, some out of reflex, and one because he'd just farted at the exact moment the entire cell went quiet.
"As you were you taciturn oaf." The Warden replied and Yetrius barley relaxed an inch.
"Sir, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"Really Yetrius, are you that thick?" the Warden asked. He turned to Pins. "Obviously I am here…because I was listening."
Pins had had his fill of ominousness and plays of fear in the House on the Hill. Even if he was afraid, he refused to be intimidated. "You gave me your word Warden." He said looking the Heatmor dead in the bored-looking eyes. "Where is Brick? You said—"
"I said that the Doctors' patient would be well cared for, and that I would convey him to the 13th wing exactly as you had found him." The Warden interrupted. "So…Take a look," he said waving a claw. Pins turned and saw the blindfolded Marshtomp sitting on the floor, his direction facing nothing and a smile on his face. "Is he not exactly the way you found him?" the Warden smirked.
Pins clenched his fists in righteous fury. "You tricked me." He growled.
"I outsmarted you." The Warden replied waving a single claw for emphasis. "There is quite the big dissimilarity between the two. My way has a certain, avant-garde to it."
"Where is Brick!" Pins screamed again.
"I do wish you would not shout Atticus. I do not know if you have noticed, but it tends to echo in here. To answer your question though," he did not smile or grin, but Pins felt like he was anyway, "there is no one in my facility by that name."
"Liar!"
"Prisoner!" the Warden screamed back causing almost everyone, Yetrius included to flinch black. "You see, I can do it too. You would be welcomed to look at the files yourself Atticus, but let me tell you what you would find: no mention, no indication, no allusion to, or ink smear resembling any Slaking to have entered my facility in the past 10 years. Certainly none by the appellation of, what was it? Brick?"
Something hotter than the House entered Pins. Something darker than the very depths of its murderous black corners and corridors. Something much stronger and more terrifying than anything the Warden could do to him. Unadulterated fury, hate, desire to kill. To rip off the devil's own claws. For isn't that what was standing before him now? It was hard to imagine a more perfect embodiment of evil and immorality in this or any other world.
But Pins did not act on this new homicidal rage running through his veins, rather he inhaled deeply and behind him, the convicts prepared for what they thought would be a blood bath. Even Yetrius stiffened and prepared himself for what he thought was coming. Instead, Pins turned and walked away with every air of a defeated man as one could have.
He passed the Marshtomp who still stared at nothing and smiled, a blind man, looking at colors. He did not say a word to Kenta or Hazel who tried to stop him, to talk to him, anything! Jensen and Grant did not try and stop him as he passed. All the convicts stared as Pins simply walked to the corner of the cell, as far from anyone as he could get, and sat. His face, his body, maybe even his soul, void, empty and without any emotion.
The Warden watched this but said nothing before he walked away steadily, his hands behind his back. Yetrius did glance back and gave a single unimpressed snort before he passed back behind the doorway.
The door seemed to close with auxiliary slowness, as if too add something final, something absolute to its closing. And indeed it seemed to do just that as, merely inches before it fully closed, the sliver of light left passed over Pins' face in the corner. It practically taunted him with that thin thread of light, of hope, but without a word of care he let that thread dim and dim, get thinner and thinner. And when the door finally closed that thread snapped and the light was extinguished, leaving Pins in to continue falling into the dark.
12 Hours Ago
The halls and corridors of the House on the Hill welcomed Warden Tinker, embraced him in an encirclement of fire and shadow. He continued walking till he came to the Entry Hall in all its giant, magnificent glory. Here he turned toward where the elevator would be waiting. As he suspected…as he knew, there was already someone there. Two someone's in fact.
I wouldn't worry too much about it big guy. The doc's probably had you under a lot of sedatives and you were seeing things is all. Zenon's voice echoed through his head, though the Misdreavus spoke to someone else.
"They never gave me anything until after Pins left." Another voice, much deeper spoke. "I'm telling you, those straps moved and held me down without anyone doing nothing, like they were alive! And then those bugs showed up and got Pins without anyone saying anything. It was like the fire guy was controlling them all, like he was controlling everything!"
Neh, the Warden just has an uncomfortable effect on people.
"Is that so Zenon?" the Warden asked aloud startling the two.
Zenon was floating next to Brick who was bound by two separate pairs of Ever-stone cuffs. Both were waiting at the edge of the large metal drop off waiting on the elevator.
Warden, I was just taking Bri—the convict to wing 13. Zenon's telepathic voice resonated.
"My, how accommodating of you Zenon," the Warden said, "but I will be the one accompanying this delivery."
Brick gulped. T-that really isn't necessary sir.
"Oh it's more than necessary, it's obligatory." The Warden replied. "Besides Zenon, you should be dealing with the riot breaking out in wing 18."
There's a riot in wing 18? Zenon asked suspiciously.
"There is now." The Warden said slowly and carefully making sure the Misdreavus understood.
Zenon merely nodded. Once to the Warden as a sign of understanding, and once to Brick in apology or perhaps pity. Then he floated over to the wall and faded into it. The Warden did not look at the wall, but he spoke as if someone were still there. "Zenon, this is not the 18th wing. I do hope you were not thinking of spying on us?"
No reply came, verbally, physically, or telepathically, but after a few moments the Warden seemed satisfied. He came and stood wordlessly next to Brick facing out at the wall on the opposite side of the great pit beneath them.
Brick was a big guy, and by his own logic that meant that he was a tough guy. This simple way of thinking had governed nearly his entire life, even when he had become partners with Pins. Because he was big, because he was tough, there was literally nothing he need be afraid of. Until he came to the House on the Hill. Until he had seen what the Warden had done in the Infirmary. Until he knew what some Pokémon, this Pokémon in particular was capable of. Now, though the Heatmor barley came up to Brick's shoulder he felt something he never had before. Fear. He was deeply, deathly afraid of the Warden.
"I will say this much, it truly is not fair." The Warden suddenly spoke up.
"W-what isn't?" Brick asked.
"Oh, just this whole thing really." He replied waving a claw. "I really do not like it all, but it is just the way it has to be. Surely you can appreciate that can you not?"
"I…don't understand."
"Well to put it simply, it is like this." The Warden began by pulling out a black pocket watch. He clicked it open and held it in front of his face so that Brick could see the clock's face. Somehow, despite the noise of mechanisms and the hiss of steam, the ticking of the clock was loud and echoed. "This facility is like a clock you see? There are many different parts, thousands even, some large, some small but all have a job to do. And if every single piece in the clock, every cog, every spring or wheel or pendulum or wheel, if they all do their job according to a certain order, a certain law if you will, well then everything is fine and dandy and the clock keeps ticking."
"However, if just a single piece, a single wound up spring or rusty gear or one unsavory, churlish, maddening, worthless little pin goes against that order…well then it could affect the other pieces you see. Cause them to make mistakes, to harm themselves, to question the law, and then the whole clock goes to hell." He clicked the watch shut and turned back towards the wall far away."
"So you can cognize the easiest solution, can you not Mr. Brick?" he asked and paused in his speech meaning he really did want Brick to answer.
"Fix…the clock?" Brick guessed.
"Exactly and precisely, and the best way to do that is to get rid of that one piece that started all the trouble in the first place. Sometimes though…it is not that simple. Sometimes it may not be as simple as wrenching out that one single piece and destroying him. He could be very stupid and he could be very brave, which means that all your wrenching and prying and slicing and cutting will be for naught. In those rare cases, Mr. Brick, the best choice may actually be to remove the pieces surrounding that troublesome piece, weaken him by not giving him anything to attach too, you see? And there-in lies the pity."
"The pity that I cannot let you live."
Quicker, much quicker, than Brick could ever hope to react, the Warden reached behind his back and pushed not necessarily hard, but it was enough to send Brick tipping over the edge of the cliff. He screamed, and just when he was at a 45 degree angle he stopped falling. The Warden had caught a fist full of his hair and was holding him up with a single clawed hand.
"I wanted you to see it coming you see?" the Warden said calmly. "It would be too cruel to take you completely by surprise like that and end it all."
"You-you can't kill me!" Brick cried, yes literally cried with tears going down his face and dripping off into that unending, unholy darkness. "You're a warden, a good-guy! This-this is against the law for Arceus' sake! It's murder!"
"You dare speak to me of law? Of murder?" the Warden said not raising his voice. "You just do not get it do you? None of you filth do. You were right, I am a 'good guy', though I would not be so simple minded with it. I am the voice of reason, of justice, of order. I can do no wrong. It is you; it is all of you that threaten that order that peace. You sinners and scum are a plague upon the world and that is why you come to me."
"Please, Arecus, please. No, no no." Brick continued to cry.
"You pray to Arceus. They all pray to Arceus at the end. Why? Does Arcues hold their life literally in the palm of his hand? I am the one threatening to kill them. Should they not pray to me? But I digress, here I am the law, I keep the order and the peace. Down here, I am Arceus. Down here I am God."
He loosened his grip on Brick's hair causing him to slip a few more inches. "And anyone who threatens that order, even that courageously insolent friend of yours. I must…cast…down."
"You're wrong." Brick spoke up softly, tears still flowing. "Pins is strong, stronger than me and stronger than you. He'll bring your whole clock crashing down."
The Warden was quiet for a moment, when he spoke again it was wistfully, as if he was waking from a dream. "There is the pity again. Whether you are right or I am…you will not be around to see it." And then he let go.
And Brick fell into the waiting darkness.
End of Ch.7
Yep, another chapter done. I apologies for the rather…dark parts of this chapter, considering everything I actually went back and changed the rating for this story. I wish I could say things get better, though they do; it's not for a while. Still every good story has its sad parts…right? In any case…
Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic
