Percy spun around from his position in front of the toilet at the sound of the clanging of his cell door, pissing all over the bottom of Brutal's pants. Brutal didn't even look down. I had a flashback as to the time that Wild Bill, laughing like a hyena, had done the same to the bottom of Harry Telweger's pants, and the parallel between these two inmates was beginning to scare me. Percy was getting out in a couple years? I dreaded the thought. I truly believed that he could kill someone else—and would.

I stared at the deadly encounter. Percy stood in front of the toilet, a sly smile on his face, exposed to Brutal and me, but not caring about it. Brutal had his barrel-like arms down at his sides, not wanting to give away what he was to do, but not wanting to be at a disadvantage with crossed arms if Percy should run at him. Sweat poured off the back of his neck, and I could see that he had gooseflesh on his arms. This was truly a tense moment. I wondered if Percy realized what was coming to him.

All of a sudden, Brutal raised his arms and with a grunt of exertion, lunged at Percy, knocking his back against the wall behind the toilet. Percy's legs went out beneath him, and he fell onto his rear end on the toilet, cringing as his back hit the metal sink behind the toilet. I could tell that his collision with the sink had really hurt, because he was still cringing a bit in the first few seconds he was seated in front of Brutal. Hours seemed to pass as Percy, motionless, stared up at Brutal's coat buttons, his mouth shut but not showing one particular emotion on his face, seemingly accepting his fate. With extreme caution, Percy buttoned his pants back up as he continued to gape at Brutal.

Brutal then grabbed Percy by the arms, yanked him off the toilet, and spun him around in what seemed to be an effortless process. Once Percy was facing the wall in front of the burly guard, Brutal grabbed one of Percy's hands and cuffed it behind his back, all with no resistance. However, when he went for the second hand, Percy tried to fight back, wrenching his hand away from Brutal and speaking up.

"What the hell are you doing with me? What the hell did I do to you?"

Apparently once he realized Brutal wasn't going to murder him, he got some guts. Instead of answering him, though, Brutal grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face off of the wall. Percy fell to his knees on the toilet seat, almost toppling over sideways when a knee went into the hole. It was way too late for him to attempt to compose himself from the embarrassment of his puppet-like actions, and so he allowed Brutal to cuff his other hand.

Once Percy was handcuffed, Brutal spun him around so that the short former guard was facing him, and spoke to him in a taunting tone.

"Guess where you're goin', Wetmore."

Percy had been hanging his head up to this point, allowing the blood from the new wound on his forehead to drip onto the floor, but he jerked it up at Brutal's comment. "What?" he murmured quietly.

"You're going to stay with Reddy."

Percy's composure, emotionless as it was, changed as soon as Brutal had said this. His eyes went wild with disbelief and his legs began to shake. "So you're fixin' to kill me then! Why don't you just do it now?" He stepped in front of the bars offside the door where I was standing, holding my gun to my side, and positioned himself in front of the lowered barrel. "Shoot me, you lugoon. I broke your arm, so I deserve to die."

I could smell his sour, hot breath as he edged closer to me, almost wondering if he was going to spit on me again. Instead, Brutal jerked him sideways so he was positioned in the doorway, and yelled down to the guards, "Open cell 233!" as he pushed Percy out onto the corridor. Once Reddy's door was wide open, he shoved Percy into the cell, handcuffs and all. Reddy was sitting on the lower cot, following my instructions to look like this was a casual change of cells, and not an expected beating. I yelled down to the guards to close both the cells, and so Percy was now stuck with Reddy.

Percy spun around immediately as Reddy's door clanged shut, gaping at Brutal and me with wild, hopeless eyes. "You can't leave me in here!" he muttered pitifully.

"Turn around," Brutal instructed. Percy shot him an angry glance and hesitated. "Oh, so you don't want me to take your cuffs off, that's fine," the burly guard said. Percy immediately turned around and pushed his hands out the slot. With the back of Percy's head so near to the bars, Brutal whispered into his ear, "You want out of here? What do you know about Dean Stanton's murder?"

Percy spun around quickly and faced us, seething with anger. "So, you put me in here just to get something out of me, and not because I done anything wrong! I'm gonna get you both fired for this…."

"Suit yourself, Wetmore," I say. "You'll just have to deal with having no use of your hands then. See you later."

"You can't leave me in here with these on. I know people that'll take you down, seeing me get treated this way."

I felt a slight pity for him being in his state, with Reddy. I figured I'd give him as good a chance as any against the large black man. "Okay, lemme take 'em off you. I have my reasons for doing this, and it's not 'cause I'm scared I'll meet your people." I put away my gun and proceeded to take the handcuffs off him, and afterwards, he turned around to face me.

"Please put me back in my cell. I won't fight you," he calmly begged.

"Of course you won't fight me. You didn't even fight Brutal when he put you in this cell. You just answer our questions honestly and open—"

I was cut off by the scene of watching Percy being pulled backwards by Reddy into the cell, the black man's huge arms wrapped around Percy's waist like a python around a rat. Although I would have enjoyed watching for a while, our former guard wouldn't be getting the full effect of his new situation knowing that two hated guards were staring at him. As I walked away, my confidence in finding out what we needed to know from him was building. I think Brutal was feeling the same way, because the tenseness in his body had practically disappeared.

"If you'd like to reconsider," I said as I walked away, "just yell, and this'll all be over."

-Not Reddy…..-

As the thick arms tightened around his waist, Percy gaped, wide-eyed, watching the guards going down the stairs, truly leaving him with the brute. In his previous arrogance, he hadn't considered that inmates could be on the guards' side as well. Physical resistance was impossible now. He had to try to talk himself out of this cruel fate, attempt to convince the inmate to see his point of view.

"Uhh, mister," the short pale man croaked weakly, "please don't do what I think you're gonna do. I-I could be of use to you."

"Oh, you'll be of use to me, alright," Reddy chuckled, with a deep throaty voice much like Coffey's.

"Wh-what did they offe—what the hell are you gettin' out of this?" Percy stammered in as annoyed a tone as he could muster. This whole situation seemed like a joke to the black man, and he hated to be the brunt of it. The man didn't respond to him, instead immediately jerking him off the ground and spinning him around to face the cot. Percy didn't even attempt to struggle against his new position further in the con's cell, instead becoming dead weight in Reddy's arms.

After an extremely tense silence, he regained some stiffness in his legs and neck and spoke again, realizing that he had to act quickly to prevent whatever was planned for him here.

"D-don't you see what they're tryin' to do?" Percy croaked. "They're takin' advantage of you. The-these men that you could crush in a second are using you to do their dirty work. You shouldn't be standin' for this."

Reddy didn't answer him, instead making a slight change in stance, for Percy could sense that he was being pushed closer to the cot. He didn't want to turn his head to see what exactly his captor must have been thinking at that moment, but did want to see if anyone was paying attention to this abuse, and he looked out into the cellblock. The other side of the cellblock was completely empty, which meant that they must've all went down to breakfast, which meant there were no witnesses. Those guards had picked a good time to ensure that the prisoners hadn't seen them treating him so cruelly.

Before he could even react, Percy was pushed headfirst onto the cot by Reddy, splayed out across the mattress, no longer having the support of his legs on the floor. A chill ran up his spine and he turned his head with one last pitiful glance at the black man behind him as he felt a draft from his waist down.

Sweat poured across his forehead as he tried in vain to flip himself over. Reddy held him down with one hand in the small of his back. The former guard didn't want to imagine the inexorable pain he would be experiencing if he couldn't think of something quickly.

"Please—Mr. Reddy… you don't wanna do this," he stammered, struggling fervently.

"And why not?"

"B-because… I… I…" His mind went completely blank.

"That's what I thought."

Reddy looked around the cellblock for sign of the guards. He hadn't expected Percy to make it this far, to the actual point of being stripped down, without a confession or some form of apology. He had to be a complete idiot to let things proceed to this point. However, Paul had told him to do what he needed to do to get Percy to squeal. The guards were nowhere to be seen, but then again, neither was anyone else. He had been away from home for several years now, and had had to do the deed before with other inmates, to prove himself powerful to others. Instead, it had made him feel evil and perverted. But, hell, this white guy was as evil as any, and he wasn't about to feel guilty for obeying orders.

A hard slap on his bare backside made Percy yelp and jerk his head up, as he desperately tried to wriggle free.

"What the hell did you do that for?" he muttered, voice beginning to shake.

He heard a deep throaty laugh from behind him, a truly sadistic tone to it sending a chill down his spine.

"You best loosen yourself up some," Reddy commented, holding Percy firmly by his hips. "Or else you not gonna be able to sit for a month."

It was then that Percy let his head droop onto the mattress, seemingly giving up.

"I didn't tell you to loosen your neck muscles, you dumb shit," Reddy fumed. He planted another hard slap on Percy's backside.

Slowly, shakily, Percy spread his legs, imagining the incredible pain that was to come. His vision was actually shaking with the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins at the moment, and he could almost feel the sweat poring out of his skin.

As soon as he heard the sound of Reddy's zipper, though, he decided to swallow his pride and beg for mercy.

"P-please—Mr. Reddy—is there anything, anything I can do to make you—not do what you're gonna do?"

"The only way that's gonna happen is if you get those guards back here and tell them what you know," was the taunting reply.

He felt Reddy's body heat as the man leaned in closer behind him, panic continuing to rise within him until he felt faint.

"Please, don't do this; I'll do anything, I swear. I'm sorry for whatever I done that made you turn against a fellow inmate—and side with them." The quip he had inserted at the end was stupid—and would cost him. He held his breath and gritted his teeth, trying his hardest to take what was to come like a man.

As soon as it touched him, however, he let out a loud scream. During that time, Paul and Brutal were talking to Bill Dodge down on the first floor almost directly below the cell, and immediately stood up, hoping that Percy had given in early on and wasn't actually responding to being raped—which would be a thing to scream and cry about.

Reddy immediately zipped himself back up so the guards wouldn't see how close he was to doing the deed. It was embarrassing for him to push around someone so much weaker than he, and to be caught doing so.

Tears had now appeared in Percy's eyes, and his hair was wild and soaked with a cold sweat. The sound of the zipper again was a relief, but would he himself follow through with telling the guards what he knew? He attempted to stand back up, turning his head as far as it would go to watch the guards ascending the stairs as he tried to pull his pants up. His plans were thwarted when Reddy suddenly grabbed both of his wrists in one enormous hand and pinned them in the small of his back so that he was still bending over half-naked but now completely unarmed, chin shoved into the mattress. It was this way that the guards saw him as they took their positions outside the cell.

-Paul—

I have to admit, I never thought I'd feel quite as guilty as I did when I saw the pitiful figure of Percy bent over that mattress with bare ass hangin' out for all to see. Poor kid couldn't even look at us; his embarrassment must've been so tremendous. Reddy was holdin' him in place with a single hand and nothing more; it was sad to see how weak Percy was to not be able to get out of the position he was in.

We stood, waiting for Percy to say something, since we didn't want to set him off again with any type of vocalization and make him clam up. I wonder how far Reddy got with him. Surely in that time he got further than just pulling the kid's britches down. Why else would the boy have let out such a pitiful scream?

Percy remained still with face pressed into the mattress. I saw Brutal begin to take a step towards the cell, but held him back with an arm. He complied with a silent sigh, staying where he was and not an inch farther. I looked at Reddy, who seemed to be wondering what to do next. This stubborn silence Percy was givin' us was too thick in the air for me to watch last for too long. I nodded to Reddy.

All of a sudden, Reddy pulled his free hand back, kinda like a baseball bat, and whacked Percy hard across the seat with a hit so hard it immediately caused a purplish hue to spread over the place where it had landed. Percy jerked his head up involuntarily, whimpering and blubbering like a lost orphan, probably figurin' we had since left.

Once he realized we were still present, he couldn't do much to hide the fact that tears were streaming down his face and his eyes were glossy with fresh tears. He had been spanked like a naughty child in front of his most hated enemies—and I feared his response.

"I didn't do it," he mumbled, face aimed down into the mattress once again. "I swear to God I didn't do it."

"If that's so, then why did an inmate down the block turn down a deal so you'd be the one to talk? Can you tell us that?"

"I—I don't know," he said, his voice thick with tears. "I think he was jus' tryin' to get me to look all guilty as hell 'cause I was once a guard here—"

Oh my Lord in Heaven, my heart skipped a beat—no, two or three beats. How did Percy remember somethin' like that, saying it so matter-of-factly –unlike his spacey demeanor at his own trial—and not be screaming his head off about what else happened in his past? Brutal looked over at me, a tinge of panic in his eyes and a pale hue spreading over his face, though he tried not to show it.

"W-what did you say?" I asked, my voice beginning to quiver. Percy hesitated to respond, so Reddy shoved his arm forcefully into the small of Percy's back with a resounding thud.

"I—I—" he began to stammer, tears welling over once again. "Th—they know I used to work here, they said. They said I was over on E block—death row—" his head shot up, eyes aimed at me. "—wait a second, didn't both of you work over there?"

Here it came: his memory was returning. Maybe my jaw dropped, maybe Brutal's did too; I don't remember. In our stunned silence, we allowed Percy to continue.

"Yeah, I remember you both. Why the hell did you testify against me and get me stuck in this shithole? And now you're trying to torture a confession outta me..."

I could see in my peripherals Brutal glancing over at me, the worry evident on his face and in his body language. I knew better. It was simple—Percy was bluffing.

"If you truly remembered us, Percy, you'd know damn well why we testified against you. Don't you remember the trial?"

"Some coworkers—and you both try to pull yourselves off as honest men," he sneered. Reddy had been holding him in place until that point but released his grip for a moment. Percy took advantage of the new freedom and stood up facing us, pulling his drawers back up.

"You listen here," Brutal began, stepping close to the bars, "fear is all you know. Kindness, hell, you've shrugged it right off with a smart ass remark time and time again. What do you suppose we do with you?"

The brat stood on the other side of the bars, Reddy looming behind him. The fear and shame on his face from before had all but completely disappeared.

"Oh, jus' what you're doin', fellas," he began in a sarcastic tone. "I'm sure you're both getting your kicks from watchin' me squirm. And it's also working so well, ain't it? I've tole you all you want to know about everything, so chalk torture up as a surefire success."

It was then that Reddy grabbed Percy from behind much like Wild Bill had done before, wrapping his huge arms around the small man's torso. Percy's face became white as a ghost as his drawers fell around his ankles and one of Reddy's arms disappeared behind his back. Writhing, he shut his eyes tightly, clenching his teeth as a whimper escaped his lips.

Reddy soon let him go and he stood stiffly in place, practically on tiptoe, with eyes still closed. He opened his mouth to speak without opening his eyes. Blood could be seen forming on his lower lip.

"Get me out of here and I'll tell you what you want to know."

Soon Percy was totally clothed and out of Reddy's cell. The three of us entered his cell, Brutal closest to the door with hand near his pistol. We watched Percy intently, noting his silence as he avoided our gaze.

"Now is there somethin' you want to tell us, Percy?" I asked him after a time.

He looked up at me and took a seat on his mattress.

"It was my shank," he started, staring down at the floor. I held my breath. Hours seemed to pass before he continued—"But I didn't kill him."

I could hear Brutal swallow hard behind me. It was gonna be hard to stomach things if Percy didn't tell us every detail of this murder.

"What do you mean, someone took your shank off of you?"

He looked at the floor despondently, staying silent.

"I was really considerin' to do it," he muttered, afraid to raise his eyes. "But I didn't—what happened wasn't my fault, and that's all you need to know."

"Then what happened? Clear yourself of this matter, for once and for all. Who did it?"

"It all happened so fast—" he stammered, falling silent. We stood in position like statues, glaring him down for a continuance.

"I had the shank—I had the right angle and everything; it would have been the perfect moment to do somethin' like that…. but somethin' told me not to do it; couple of seconds later, someone else had seen the advantage as well and grabbed my shank off me: he got 'im and threw 'im up over the fencing."

"Who?" Brutal said demandingly.

"I can't say—"

"Want to stay with Reddy for the rest of your sentence? I swear to you, we'll make you his new permanent cellmate."

He paused a second, then looked up at Brutal in disbelief, eyes narrowed.

"Just stay quiet, and I'll take that as a yes," the brawny blond said.

Percy continued to gape silently, until Brutal started to come at him. He finally spoke again.

"It was—" his voice fell to a hush—"Denger. I had nothin' to do with it, swear to God."

Roy Denger had had a run-in with Dean on several occasions. He lived two cells down from Reddy and could have been in that particular place at that particular time. And he was big enough to lift Dean over the fencing. Percy was not. It was definitely possible for Denger to have done such a thing—more possible than Percy.

I watched Percy intently from my standing position as he stayed still as rock, his hair all unfettered and a sweaty mess upon his head. Stunned speechless, I needed very badly to get some air. I wondered what was going through Brutal's head. Why hadn't Percy just told us that before? Had he kept it from us merely because he knew we wanted to know?

I turned my head to look at Brutal, who was squinting at Percy's slumped figure, arms crossed, probably unsure what to believe. I squeezed past him, still unable to utter a word.

Was Percy going to be some kind of martyr now, proclaiming the mistreatment by us, his fellow guards, for something he hadn't done? It wouldn't be hard to start a wave of that kind of feeling, so why hadn't he done it already? Only Percy, Brutal and I had heard his named confession, and maybe Reddy too, but Reddy wasn't about to get Percy killed—it would only hurt him to do something as cruel as that. We had time to do further investigation before nailing Denger. I had to be certain….

But why had the President turned down deals for us just to hear Percy's side, as pitiful as it was? I could understand why he didn't admit the man's name right away, but something still wasn't sitting right with me.

Brutal soon joined me outside the cell, and we called down for the cell door to be closed. Percy remained seated after the cell door had shut, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He didn't smile or laugh or curse or sigh, nothing. I wanted to wait, even if it was hours, just to see his next move. That would tell me how true his story was. Brutal stood by Percy's cell a while longer. He couldn't take his eye off him either.

-The Standoff -

Brutal stared down Percy as he stood outside his cell. He didn't want to let the man out of his sight, lest he give away his intentions in his body language.

"There's gonna be questioning now, Percy; we are gonna put away the culprit. Why didn't you save yourself all that trouble and tell us right off the bat?"

"I'd only have been killed sooner."

"Rest assured, nothing's gonna happen to you."

"You jus' keep tellin' yourself that," he muttered sarcastically.

-Paul-

As I left C block, I had some burning questions. I had to talk to Bill Dodge.

"Bill," I said, approaching him near his office. "Do you remember seein' Denger over near the place Dean was thrown from?"

"Come to think of it, he was right there. 'Course, there were plenty of others too, a big ol' gang of them near Stanton."

"Percy Wetmore says that Denger killed Dean. What do you think?"

"Wait—how in the hell did you get him to admit somethin' like that, Paul?"

"Let's just say the only thing we needed to hurt was his ego," I replied, flashing a slight smile. I waited for his answer to my question.

"I guess it'd be possible. He's definitely big enough to pick up Dean, but we had jus' confiscated a shank from Denger earlier that morning and searched his cell. Surely he couldn't have gotten another one in that time."

"Apparently he grabbed Percy's shank off of him to do the job. At least, that's what Percy told us," I added.

"Wetmore had a shank?" Bill was in total disbelief, and I could understand why. People like Percy never had the resources to get such a weapon.

"Yeah, I had seen it the first day he picked it up. I wasn't sure though, but even so, damn kid broke my arm when I tried to get it off him."

"Well, that connects some dots, if'n it were true. When you gonna question Denger 'bout all this? How sure are you?"

"I don't know—were any other guards working that day that could have been eyewitnesses?"

Bill thought a moment, his hand to his chubby chin. "How about Roberts? I do believe he was there."

Larry Roberts was a new addition to C block, but he was damn tough. Had he been up on the second floor that day, there'd have been inmate blood on the concrete and not Dean's. I hadn't thought to speak to him, but it'd be the first time I'd ever have spoken to him. Fortunately he was on duty that day in the mess hall.

After departing from Bill, I met up with Larry to hear his account. First of course there was the useless small talk I had to come up with to break the ice a bit, and then I went into my questioning.

"Lemme see—Dean was surrounded by guys—that little ex-guard guy was somewhere behind him—Flanders was there, Smith, Denger—Denger was probably the closest to Dean, yeah, I think I heard him and the guard arguin'—but I didn't see who killed him," he told me.

"So you didn't actually see someone—slit his throat?" I managed to stutter, finding the words hard to say.

"No, I didn't. Just a group of prisoners in the vicinity, then he was dropped off the railing there—"

I left Larry feeling like shit. Why had I not asked him first, spared all the questions and the torture of Percy, our constant scapegoat? I could have cut to the chase and gotten Denger right away.

Oh, God, I had been so wrong about Percy; I had had him tortured and had stood by as he had the shit kicked out of him and even been one of the reasons he was incarcerated in the first place and here he was, changing his mind at the perfect opportunity to do permanent harm to someone he hated. How could I have been so wrong? Had he indeed changed, or had he never been as evil as everyone always thought he was?

Soon after the shift changed, I returned to C Block, hoping that Brutal had nailed Denger already. All the inmates were gone; I glanced at my watch to see that the inmates were probably preparing for dinner. Hoping to find Brutal in the process, I ventured down to the mess hall.

What I saw when I entered the hall made my blood run cold. Percy was in the center of the room, a shank against his neck, held fast by Denger. Both were standing on a table, for they could be seen above a mob of inmates surrounding them. Brutal was not among the guards present, for they had brought Percy and Reddy down for the meal with the others. Did Reddy tell Denger what Percy had said? If not, who said what?

"What in the hell is going on? How the hell did Denger find out what Wetmore said?" I inquired of several nearby guards.

"Lawson got word of the guilty party. He didn't know Wetmore was still down here when he approached Denger. Somehow Wetmore must have let on that he was the accuser at some point, and so—"

"Why in God's name did he choose now to confront Denger? At least wait until he's back in his cell!"

"I don't rightly know, Paul. You're gonna have to talk to Lawson about that. Beats me why he chose such a time."

Even though they were trying, the guards hadn't yet been able to fight their way to Percy's aid, and were generally standing by for a riot but not to save the man's life. I saw the blood begin to stream from Percy's neck, a slow stream but a stream nonetheless. He flashed me a look of terror, struggling against his holds.

"Guards!" I yelled to the hesitating bunch. "Get Wetmore out of there!" I said. Immediately they sprung to action, but the crowds of inmates held them at bay. I knew I couldn't do much with my broken arm, but I had to get over there—just had to save at least one falsely accused man from certain death. I just had to.

I yanked out my club and wrapped its strong leather strap several times across my hand and wrist. "Let me in there!" I heard myself yelling, as I swung it menacingly back and forth, allowing a path for movement. Inmates were still screaming, yelling for Denger to kill Percy.

"Don't kill him, Denger!" I yelled, pushing through the inmates as best I could. I felt my cast being pummeled and soon all the inmates I passed knew to wrench my arm—causing me excruciating pain all the while. I ignored them and pressed on, desperate to prevent something terrible from happening to Percy.

My former coworker had more than likely pissed his pants by this point, and his eyes almost seemed to bug out from his head, big and glassy. He looked like a lost, frightened kid and I had to avert my gaze to avoid my emotions from showing. Percy's true self had appeared, a scared little kid stuck in a swarm of people he knew hated him. Could I blame him for being such an asshole to us? Maybe he could feel how others felt about him and responded in kind. Suddenly it seemed possible to understand what Percy was all about. The timing was terrible.

After I had gotten a distance closer to Denger, he made another incision on Percy's neck, creating a faster-flowing crimson stream. All the color left Percy's face, and I could see the sweat pouring from his head in large beads.

"Denger, let him go!" I yelled. "You still have a chance to redeem yourself, and this is it! Please, let him go! Percy! You jus' hold on there, Percy!"

I almost had the inclination to shut my eyes, for this was the time that Denger would probably finish Percy off. Instead, however, I heard his voice, booming loudly above the voices of the jeering inmates.

"He deserves to die!" he roared, the shank running dangerously close to what must be the main arteries to the head. I wondered what exactly he meant by his shouted words, but before I could ask, he continued.

"Come on, Wetmore, tell the truth," he coaxed his captive. Percy squirmed and tried to pull away, but the mob pushed him back towards Denger. I reached out in an attempt to grab Percy's flailing arm and received a deep razor wound instead. Flinching, I pulled back my arm to watch the flood of red spill from it as the pain throbbed. Now both of my arms were useless, and it was only a matter of time before my club was wrenched from my hand and used to strike me in any place it could land. Somehow I ignored all the damage being done to me and watched Denger and Percy as intently as a hawk on his prey.

"Tell me what you told this guard," Denger demanded of the quivering bleeding man that I felt enormous pity for at the moment. A whack from the club, and I saw stars, but I attempted to get in closer. Maybe Percy could be saved.

Percy at first resisted, watching me with wide eyes as he kept silent, but then the shank disappeared momentarily, causing Percy to scream, and begin to speak.

"I told him—that you killed the guard—" I heard Percy say above the roar of the inmates. There was now a wound on the top of his head, for blood was flowing down his face and trickling around his ears. The shank drew close to his vulnerable neck once more.

"Denger, don't do it!" I yelled, my eyes darting around to look for backup. The other guards had made pitiful attempts at advancing towards the center. Suddenly I saw Brutal at the entrance to the mess hall. I watched him gape at me, and pull out his pistol, shouting something unintelligible. All went black.

I awoke to find myself a distance from the center of the mess hall, Brutal guarding over me. Before I could compose myself in any way, I stood up quickly, veering towards the standoff still in progress as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the basement room. I watched in horror as Percy fall from Denger's grasp, hearing the sickening crack as his head hit the floor.