Frank's green eyes scan the eerie hallway. It was dark and only thin slivers of moonlight shone through the dirty windows. It made it nearly impossible to tell if there were guards lurking in the shadows or not. Frank pushes away the feeling that he was being watched. He was going to make it out this time. He just knew he would. He stops dead in his tracks when a little boy darts in front of him and takes off down the hallway. It was Frank's son Yosef. Frank shakes his head and runs a hand across his face. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Yosef had been dead for 5 years. Frank forces himself to keep walking. Now was not the time for a mental breakdown. He needed to get out and away from the disturbing place. The longer he stayed, the more he lost himself.
He takes the corner quickly without properly checking first. He mutters a colorful array of language when a guard spots him. Frank lunges at the guard and wraps his large hands around the man's neck, but not before the he yells loudly. The man struggles against Frank's firm grip before his body grows limp. Frank feels like there are eyes on him. He turns letting the guards body fall with a thud to the floor. Standing in the middle of the room is the ghost of his son Yosef whose eyes are wide and disbelieving. Frank goes to reach out and comfort him. He has an intense desire to justify his actions, but doesn't get the chance. The image produced from Frank's memory fades. He sits on the ground staring at a place where his son had never been in reality.
Before he can get control of himself he's grabbed from behind and forcibly dragged away. He mutters unintelligible things under his breath. The guards take the keys he had managed to lift off of one the guards. They make the ground back to his cell quicker than he had moving away from it. They shut the cell door and lock Frank inside. Just on the other side of the cell door is Yosef. Frank places his face in between the bars. He reaches his left hand out of the cell, but just like always his son is just barely out of his grasp. The image produced from his subconscious is a side effect from Frank not getting enough sleep and the cruel living conditions of the world.
The morning arrives and the bags under Frank's forest green eyes are apparent. His brown hair is unkempt and he has stubble growing along his jawline. He looked crazy. Hell he probably was, but who wasn't these days? Frank's slumped against the wall staring off into space. Lost in distance memories of the few good times he had with his son. There's the quiet thudding of boots making their way across the tiled floor. They stop at Frank's cell. He doesn't bother fighting the guard instead he goes willing. He wonders who he was supposed to kill this time. He used to feel fear and regret but now feels nothing. It was like he was just doing a household chore and not taking someone's life.
The memory of his son follows after him. He clenches his jaw. If Yosef had been alive Frank probably would have tried harder to escape, but lately he wasn't seeing the point. There was nothing out there but death and clickers. Frank was beginning to think being a prisoner was a better deal than surviving on the outside. It guaranteed food and a place to sleep. He was even beginning to see the bandit's motives and it scared him. He was in the beginning stages of Stockholm Syndrome and he knew it. He needed to get away from all the chaos and killing before it was too late⦠but how? Ever fucking escape attempt ended in him being captured.
The guard pulls Frank into the cafeteria that Frank thinks of as the arena of death. His footfalls get lost in the noise of everyone talking all at once. Standing in front of him is a woman who in different times Frank would have liked to woe. She was beautiful with her naturally curly red hair and blue eyes. He hated the way her body shook in fear. He wanted to reach out and comfort her. To assure her everything was all right even though he knew differently. His son Yosef stands off to the side with his gorgeous green eyes that mirrored Frank's own. Frank's reminded of the promise to his son. He had told Yosef that he would do all he could to survive. He wasn't about to break that promise he had made on his sons deathbed.
The announcer lady silences the large mass of people, "Whose ready for some action?!"
Frank turns towards the crowd devoid of any children. That was unusual. Normally there were as many kids as adults. The announcer lady walks over to Frank and explains how the morning's events were going to be different than normal. She explains how Frank has to force himself on the woman or he'll be killed. Frank clenches his jaw. He was torn. Surely his son didn't want him to survive through such disturbing tactics. Killing was something entirely different than raping a defenseless woman or at least in Frank's mind it was.
Frank looks towards the frightened woman. She watches him with nothing short of hate in her features. It's apparent she thought he was one of the bandits. Frank bits the inside of his cheek. He feels as if hours have passed by even though it's just been moments. He makes his decision to turn towards his enemy and fight them. He grabs the announcer lady and wraps his thick arm around her neck. She gasps with shock. The crowd watches intrigued and not the least bit worried about Frank's victim.
Frank walks backwards as he uses the woman as his shield. He could make it this time he just knew he could. At first the guards just stare at him disbelievingly then they gain control of themselves and follow him careful to keep their distance. Frank has a fleeting sense of hope before the woman is shot down. He glances at the arrow in her chest. Shock crosses his features. She was bleeding profusely and whimpering loudly. He lets go and makes a run for it only to be intercepted by some guards on the other side of the compound.
Frank expects them to take him back to his prison cell. Instead they take back to the arena of death. He hears the pathetic cries coming from a woman. He watches as a man dominates her. He wants to lower his head to block the image out of his mind but the guard holding him forces him to look up. Frank watches as one article of clothing after another falls to the ground. It was sick and he feels angry. Why the fuck couldn't they just kill him already! Why were they keep him alive as opposed to making him one of the corpses hanging from the low ceiling in the first cell block he had stayed in?
Frank watches as the man relieves himself with the unwilling woman. When he finishes he gets off the woman and zips up his jeans. The red head woman is completely naked and exposed to the world. Every single part of her dignity is gone. Frank doesn't pay attention to her bare skin instead he looks at her terrified eyes. Her eyes reminded Frank of how his sons had looked as he bled to death. He fights the guards, but can't get free. He watches as the sick bastard who raped her takes out a revolver pistol with a smug grin before shooting the woman between the eyes. The crowd goes wild with excitement.
Frank stops moving and feels an ache in his chest. It was like losing his son all over again. Yet he couldn't help thinking that it wasn't much worse than what he had done for the bandits. He was starting to think that they aren't as bad as he once thought and it scared him. Why did morals have to be so pushed to the limit that they blurred and almost became nonexistent? The guards holding him lead him back to his cell. He let them take him away somewhat resigned. He needed to snap out of it. He needed to get away. The fucking bastards were getting inside his head and he was letting them. His son dances in front of him and crushing sadness comes over him. Frank feels as if he had failed that woman and the countless people he had been forced to kill just as much as he had his own son.
They reach Frank's cell. He walks in. Soon the same steel bars and three walls surround him. There was nothing he could use as weapon. The only thing in his cell was a rusted toilet, sink and the crusty mattress he was sitting on. His thoughts go to the door. Every attempt with using is to take on the guards had failed him. He may have been able to take a few but more guards always came running. There numbers seemed endless.
Frank slumps against the wall. He remembers how he had been captured by the bandits. It was late fall and he was checking his animal traps. He had stooped down to pull the rabbit from the steel clamp that was locked around its foot. The moment he did the back of his head was struck with some type of object. When he woke up his hands and feet were tied together around a metal bar. He was being carried by two men and had tried desperately to escape. He swung wildly trying to get them to drop him but his efforts failed him. They just kept walking as if nothing was happening. Frank had felt his stomach drop and his hope diminish.
They had brought him to the prison and loosened his bonds. They forced him to walk forward. He hadn't done so with a fight. More guards came and he lost. They made him slowly make his way through one cell block to another. In the one he stopped in there were corpses taking center stage in the room. He wondered if that was the fate that awaited him. He never would have guessed that his real fate was much, much worse. He shouldn't have believed the announcer lady's words that he would be freed if he killed that young man. It was a lie just like everything they told him. In the back of Frank's mind a little voice says that was some truth behind their actions. It tries to justify the operation going on here. Frank knew it was wrong but he found himself listening to that voice more and more every day.
