The silence in the air was punctuated only be the sound of the ticking clock on the wall of the warden's office. The fat warden sat in front of me fuming, his hatred for me evident on his face. Trogg and Zombie stood behind me.

"Tell me again," he demanded. "How your cellmate died."

"Suicide." I answered, sticking to the story Trogg had given me.

"The kid is telling the truth," said Trogg.

"We found him hanging from the railing by his bed-sheets," Zombie wheezed in agreement.

"Suicide." The warden scoffed. "How very convenient for you. And how do you explain the stab wounds?"

I shrugged. "I have no explanation. Perhaps your men should do a better job of securing the cells."

The fat warden slammed his fist on the table. "I think you are a liar, boy. I think you killed him and I think you are trying to undermine me."

"Sir," Zombie interjected. "The boy has only been released from solitary for one day. We were both there when he collected his personal items and went to his cell. He only had the teddy bear. He had no weapon."

The fat warden grit his teeth. He could not argue with this. "The man has been locked away here for years, he's never tried to kill himself before. And he only considers suicide now? On the very first night he shares a cell with this... Bane?"

"Perhaps he was scared." Trogg suggested. He gave me a small grin. "Perhaps he was scared to share a cell with the boy who survived the Cavidad Obscuro. The boy did kill Puerco, and he did that as a mere child. It's possible he went mad with fear. By locking the boy away for so long... you have given him quite the reputation."

The warden exhaled angrily through his nose. "The stab wounds. The same way he killed Puerco..."

"You searched the cell," said Zombie. "There was no weapon."

"This is true," the warden admitted.

I sat and said nothing. But I was filled with gratitude. Trogg had taken me back to his own cell with the knife. He gave me this story for the warden, then tossed the knife out of his window into the ocean below. Zombie had dragged Puerco's already dead friend out of the cell, cleaned the blood from the floor, tied a noose around his neck with the bed-sheets and dropped the corpse from the railing where it dangled in a parody of suicide. There was no way of explaining the stab wounds, so we pleaded ignorance.

The fat warden leaned forward and peered at me. "Your wounds a fresh, boy."

"Your men beat me when they removed me from the Cavidad Obscuro." I responded.

"Yes, they did. But that mark on your head. They didn't do that. You've been bashed against the wall. I knew Puerco's friend wouldn't like you."

"And yet you put him in that cell anyway," Trogg snapped accusingly.

"Would you tell me how to run this prison, Trogg?" the warden snapped back.

There was a tense moment before Trogg relented. "Not at all, sir. But putting these two together... something was bound to happen."

Zombie cleared his throat before he spoke. "I don't think any of us could have guessed the effect that the boy's reputation would have after all these years. He survived the Cavidad Obscuro. He has grown tall and strong. I don't think you will find many who would want to share a cell with him. Some people say he's an animal."

"Yes," the warden agreed. "He always had a feral instinct, even as a child."

Zombie let out a chuckle. "Then there was the way he stripped off and changed right in front of us."

The warden snorted. "Disgusting. The boy has no shame. No dignity."

"You think I am an animal?" I snapped. "I have spent most of my life in a tiny cage."

"What should we do with you?" the warden wondered out loud. "I cannot have the other prisoners killing themselves left and right."

"Of course not," Trogg agreed sarcastically. "It might make this place seem inhumane."

The warden just glared.

"If I may..." Zombie spoke again. "Perhaps the boy needs some adjusting. You could have him see Father Orestes."

"Yes," the fat warden agreed. "That old fool... perhaps he could teach the boy some manners."

"If the other inmates could see young Bane spending time with Father Orestes... perhaps they wouldn't be so scared of him," Zombie suggested.

"Yes... we could kill the legend surrounding this boy," the warden mused out loud. I was impressed at Zombie's ability to manipulate this man by appealing to his vanity. It was a skill I would have to learn.

"The boy is hurt," said Trogg as he folded his arms. "Your men did a number on him. He will need medical attention."

"I will send you to see Dr. Ruger, boy," the fat warded addressed me.

"Ugh. I'd rather die," I responded.

"That fate may still await you," said the warden with a smug smirk. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Dr. Ruger will patch you up. I will arrange for Father Orestes to see you regularly. I listened to your interview. You wish to learn to read?"

I hated the warden for knowing my secret desires. I hated the journalist Daniel Chirinos for sharing my secrets with him.

"You will learn how to read," the warden promised me. "You will learn mathematics. But most importantly of all, you will learn manners. You will learn to behave like a person."

"Are we done here?" I asked him.

"Yes, we are done. I am not fully convinced that your cellmate killed himself. But since I cannot prove otherwise, I will not return you to the Cavidad Obscuro. Not today at least." The warden picked up a radio. "Guards, please escort young Bane to Dr. Ruger's office for medical attention. Zombie, you may go with him. I'm sure Ruger has some blood or shit or pus that needs mopping up. Trogg, thank you for your testimony. Now get the fuck out of my sight."