A/N: Sorry this post was a week late, I got sidetracked handling an art project at school. But due to the recent hurricanes on my side of the United States, my classes are a little behind in assignments so I have a reprieve. So now it is time for Akechi and Abbott to meet their new classmates, as Icarus Juvenile Detention Center prepares for its upcoming mutual killing game. The rules are simple, if you kill your fellow inmate and get away with it, your rehabilitation is complete and you are free to leave Icarus once and for all. And almost all the contestants are vicious criminals who have no problem killing, where is this insanity going to go? Let's find out shall we?
Disclaimer: I do not own Danganronpa.
Prologue, Part 2 – Locked up with criminals 9/18
I thought for sure that the events in the limousine were the end for me. I was going to be killed along with Eliza Abbott for some unknown purpose. Little did I know, that our drugging and kidnapping was only the beginning of the horrible events to come. In fact, it might've been better if the two of us had died then and there. Maybe then we wouldn't have been forced to compete in such a savage game with people who I consider to be little more than savages themselves. Of course I didn't know what was in store for us at the time, or the fact that I had such a key role in all of it. But like I said before, the best mysteries always keep you guessing.
I don't know how much time passed during my blackout. It was like I was in a constant state between consciousness and unconsciousness, I could swear I heard things, I might've even saw some things I shouldn't have seen. But the fact remained that when I fully opened my eyes again, I had no recollection of what exactly transpired.
PROLOGUE: FOR THE CRIME OF HOPE, I SENTENCE YOU TO LIFE IN PRISON
It began with a voice calling out to me. "Hey? Are you awake yet?" I stirred from my sleep and groaned loudly in reply. "Hey I think this guy's finally waking up," the voice said to someone else.
"We've been here for a few hours and he's just now waking up? Jesus, he must have been having some peaceful dreams," another voice replied.
"Do not speak the Lord's name in vain, you heathen," yet another voice replied.
"Would you cut the shit with that biblical crap already? No one here is buying it," another voice replied.
"Such insolence, you will be judged very soon for your words. God's wrath is already upon you," the other voice harshly replied.
Then I heard the first voice again. "Hey, come on. Wake up already. You're the last one here, which means you have to know what's going on, right?"
"What makes you think that? Odds are he's just as clueless as we are," yet another voice replied.
"We can't take any chances, and even if he's not involved somehow he could still be dangerous. I mean look at all of us for crying out loud. For Christ's sake, we've got two psychopathic killers in here with us already. Hey you, give me that cane. We can use it on him just in case," a new voice replied.
"Umm, this cane has been in my family for generations, so no. If you want a weapon, you'll just have to use something else. Of course you could always just talk to him when he's awake, or has that thought not crossed your insignificant little brain?" a condescending voice replied.
"Hey guys, he's waking up for real now!" the first voice exclaimed. I tossed and I turned and then finally I opened my eyes at last. And I was met with the sight of another boy standing over me. He was of Caucasian ethnicity, and he had thick, pale skin. He had a sharp nose and chin, but oddly enough he also had a soft pair of blue eyes. He was bald, and from the angle he was standing at I could see that he had a tattoo on the back of his head. The tattoo was shaped like a phoenix. He was wearing what appeared to be a yellow fire retardant suit complete with a pair of baggy pants and protective boots. He also wore a pair of thick, black gloves and a pair of protective goggles which were placed atop his forehead. He smiled at me. "Welcome to the land of the living, chum." He spoke to me in Japanese, which was odd because he was clearly foreign.
"Are you American?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Yeah," he replied.
"So am I somewhere in America, right now?" I asked.
The goggle-headed boy shook his head. "No, right now you're in prison. It's some weird prison off the coast of Japan. Do you not remember how you got here, chum?"
My head was throbbing intensely, I massaged my frontal lobe as I sat up. Then I took a look at what I was sleeping on. It was a hard wooden bench that was chained to the wall, like in an old prison cell. Then I looked around and saw that there were more people inside the prison cell than just me and the goggle-headed boy. There were eight other boys who looked just as confused as I was. At that's when I realized that I recognized these boys from the files I read on the way here, and a few of them I knew already. I was behind bars with a bunch of criminals, not how I imagined my day going. I tried desperately to piece together my situation. "You said we're in a prison off the coast of Japan. So we're inside Icarus right now?"
"Oh yeah, that's what the name of this fancy joint is called, isn't it? I just got here today so I'm not really up on the take. But I got to say, so far this place blows. My old place was much better. At least there I had a cell to myself on my first day, but we've been stuck here in this overflow cell for a few hours now," the goggle-headed boy replied.
"But before that everything's a total blank," said another boy, who was sitting on one of the benches in the middle of the cell. He had well-kept dark brown hair which was styled into an undercut, with the sides cut long enough so that there wasn't an obvious difference in the hair length. It was styled in a way so that his hair kind of slicked back. He had lightly tanned skin which allowed his unique eyes to stand out. Both of his eyes started as a dark brown which slowly faded into a burnt amber color in the center. He had a fine stubble across his cheeks, around his mouth and chin, and on part of his neck. He was fairly well built and while not really muscular he did show some athleticism in his body and did appear to have abs and slightly larger than normal biceps. "I remembered getting transferred here today and then suddenly I blacked out, and when I woke up I was here. It's the same story for all of us, you too I imagine."
"So no one here remembers anything that happened after they blacked out?" I asked, to which all the boys replied with a resounding no. Nothing was making any sense. It was clear that whoever kidnapped Eliza and I wanted to make sure that we couldn't leave Icarus. If I was trapped in here with the inmates, I could only assume that she was also being held captive somewhere else in the prison. I had to find her and keep her safe, but first I had to find my way out of this dilemma I currently found myself in. And above all else I couldn't let any of these guys know who I really was. I knew for a fact that most of them were prone to violence, if I let my identity slip I knew that some of them wouldn't even think twice about killing me right there on the spot. They gave me questioning looks, they were clearly observing me just in case I did in fact turn out to be a threat to them. I simply stared back at them, giving them the impression that I wasn't concerned about anything. Hopefully that would avert their suspicion from me.
Now then, since it might be a while before I can get out of this situation, why don't I tell you the little bit I know about each one of my current cell mates. We'll start with the bald, goggle-headed guy.
ADAM WICK
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE ARSONIST
This is Adam Wick, or as he is known more prominently by his chosen alias, Firefly. He was apparently born to a very wealthy family and at a young age showed a great interest in chemistry. However, after experiencing a chemical fire in a makeshift lab he was working in, his interests soon changed from chemistry to fire. According to numerous open cases in the FBI, Wick is a suspect in over a hundred different suspicious fires, and fourteen unsolved attempted murders in which the victims were all given intense third degree burns. They could never pin the attempted murders on him, as he was suspected at the time to be involved with a notorious mass murderer known simply as the Outlaw, who was wanted for killing several suspects in open police cases. The authorities were able to catch both the Outlaw and Firefly, but unfortunately neither one of them turned on the other and several cases were left unclosed. The Outlaw was sentenced to death and Firefly got life in prison, since unfortunately the authorities could never prove that he was guilty of all those attempted murders. To think that this mental case would be in Icarus of all places. Did Eliza really think she could change him?
"By the way, the name's Adam, chum. Adam Wick," Adam suddenly said and then held up his hand.
I greeted his hand with my own and then shook it. "Kogoro, and if you don't mind I'd prefer to just stick to first names."
Adam chuckled. "Oh you're one of those kind of nutcases, eh? You think the entire world is out to get you, isn't that right chum?"
"I just always like to be on my guard," I replied.
"There was a guy I knew at my old place who said the same thing. He was convinced the CIA had implanted a chip under his skin and were monitoring his every movement. When he wasn't on his meds though it was a lot worse, he once tried to stab me because he thought I was an undercover government agent," Adam said in an effort to make small talk.
"Well I'm not schizophrenic, I'm just a little paranoid of others. I have a sixth sense about who I can trust and who I can't," I replied. "But from the sounds of it, it looks like you spent a fair share of your time in a prison psych ward."
"Yeah, well you say that you love fire like it was a beautiful girl and they're guaranteed to say you're crazy," Adam replied.
"A firebug, eh?" I replied, pretending like I didn't already know.
"Firefly, actually. And yeah, I've got a thing for Sweet Lady Flame. Ain't nothing wrong with that is there, chum?" Adam asked.
I shook my head. "No, but I have to admit I feel a little better knowing that you don't have anything to spark up on you right now."
Adam chuckled again. "True enough, true enough. Well how about you, chum? What are you in here for?"
"…" silence was my only reply.
"Don't feel like talking about it, eh? No worries, I'll shut up now. Nice chatting with you anyway, chum." Then Adam leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
I turned my attention back to the rest of my cellmates. Now then who should I discuss next? Oh, I know how about the guy with the eyepatch who's sitting in the corner to my right? Let me set the mood for you. He had long, straight black hair that went down to the center of his back and was tied in a ponytail. His right eye was a sharp crimson red, and his left eye was covered by a black eyepatch, but I could see a deep scar poking out of the eyepatches' corners. He had pale skin dotted with some scars here and there, and he also had a lean body build. He wore a black double breasted overcoat, over a white, long sleeve shirt. He also wore a pair of black jeans, a pair of white socks, a pair of black boots, and a pair of black leather gloves. He was staring off into space with his one good eye, he must have been trying to make sense of the situation as well. This my friends, is all that remains of the once tough as nails thug, Victor Blood.
VICTOR BLOOD
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE DEBT COLLECTOR
Like Wick, Blood was raised by a wealthy family in America. But they had very different upbringings. His mother and father, William and Lea Blood, were loan sharks with deep ties to the many crime families of New York. They were greedy beyond reason, always offering loans to the downtrodden and luxurious, and demanding immediate payment; some believe that they just loved the smell of money too much. In fact, they were so greedy that one day they decided to stop paying their debt collectors to go and collect money from their clients and instead opted to use their son as a free resource. For years they trained him in fighting, weaponry, and trickery until he became without a doubt one of the most notorious loan sharks who ever lived. But apparently there was some bad blood between Blood and his family, no pun intended. A few years ago he turned himself into the police, ratted out his parents, and destroyed their criminal enterprise in the process. And since then he's been what many in the corrections system call a model prisoner. He always keeps his head down and keeps to himself. I guess now is no different.
Victor soon noticed that I was staring at him. "What are you looking at?" he asked in annoyed tone. I also noticed he spoke fluent Japanese.
"Oh sorry, it's just I've never really seen anyone wear an eyepatch before. It's kind of cliché, don't you think?" I replied.
He smirked and then replied, "To tell you the truth I kind of hate it too. But people always tell me to wear it because my left eye creeps them out."
"Personally I think the dead eye itself is more intimidating than the eyepatch it's hiding behind," I replied.
Victor sighed and then said, "You have no idea." Then he went back to minding his own business.
Okay, that's probably all we're going to get out of him. How about I introduce you to the guy with the finely shaved beard from earlier? I observed the boy in question, he was staring down at the ground. He wore a light grey V-neck short sleeved T-shirt which was underneath a light brown long sleeved wool V-neck jumper which had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top of the T-shirt was just visible out of the top of the jumper and both were untucked from his jeans. On his right arm he also wore a couple of leather bracelets as well as a watch with a leather strap. He wore fairly slim dark blue jeans which were turned up slightly at the bottom to reveal a pair of brown leather Chelsea boots. My guess was that he had a lot of things on his mind. According to his file, he definitely had some troubles.
YOSUKE KOJIMA
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE SABOTEUR
Yosuke Kojima's existence was an embarrassment to the police force. Why? Because for years he had manipulated several murder cases under the noses of even the most seasoned detectives. When he finally revealed himself to the world, the media anointed him the moniker of the Crime Scene Artist. A showy name for such an ordinary looking guy, right? Well I followed his case so if anyone can give you a good explanation it's me. For over five years Kojima had apparently remodeled crime scenes to fit a fabricated story he created. He had a small business of fixing problems that people found themselves in and helping them get away with murder by sabotaging the crime scenes and framing someone else. People close to him had felt the cold and ever domineering sting of the already overburdened justice system, and because of the law's negligence an innocent person in his life was accused of a murder they didn't commit. How do I know? I studied the case myself, and I found the true culprit, unfortunately that was only after Kojima revealed himself to the world. And by that time he had sabotaged crime scenes left and right and helped dozens of people get away with murder. He claimed at his arraignment that it was his justice, saving who he believed was innocent and punishing the truly guilty. Unfortunately, that lax attitude bit him in the ass and one of the innocent people he framed for murder received the death penalty. Since then, he's shown nothing but remorse for everything he's done but in the end it may not make any difference. So far he's received a life sentence for everything he's done, and the police still aren't finished unraveling all of his crimes yet. As it's going now, his ghost may end up serving time.
I never thought I would get the chance to meet the legendary Crime Scene Artist in person. I was surprised to learn that Eliza had taken an interest in him as well, I guess she took pity on him for all the remorse he's show so far. But still, even if life dealt him a bad hand it didn't excuse what he did. Thanks to him, countless murderers have gone free, countless innocent people have been wasting their lives in prison, and countless victims haven't received justice. Even if I did pity him, it didn't change the fact that he deserved to be here.
Yosuke looked up at me and found that I was staring at him. "What?" he simply said.
"I've seen you before, you're that guy who was on the news a few months back, the Crime Scene Artist," I simply replied.
"Crime Scene Artist?" a boy with cream colored hair who was sitting next to Yosuke seemed confused at Yosuke's moniker.
"…" Yosuke seemed troubled by that moniker.
"You haven't heard of him?" I asked the cream colored hair boy. "He's been staging crime scenes for years and making a business out of it. He confessed to all of his crimes but almost every single one of those crime scenes he fabricated landed an innocent person in prison. The police and the district attorney's office have been going crazy for months, trying to clean up the mess he's made. They're saying he may have even started a new revolution in criminal law, since everyone in the justice system hadn't noticed what he's been doing for over five years."
Yosuke sighed. "Yes, I was that person at one time. But I'm not anymore, I've learned my lesson. I tried to pick and choose who would get punished for a crime and it ended up blowing up right in my face. All I want now is to atone for my sins, and if that means spending the rest of my natural life in prison, then so be it." He pleaded with me. "It's Kogoro, right? Please, don't refer to me by that name. Just call me Kojima, or Yosuke if you prefer."
"Let's stick with first names for now, I have a nasty case of paranoia," I replied. "Sorry Yosuke, I promise I won't bring up your past again."
"So you've been sticking it to the country's justice system for years now, eh?" the cream colored hair boy asked Yosuke. "Screw revolution, I bet all you wanted to do was prove that you could do those asshats' jobs better than they ever could. I mean you got away with cheating them for five years, that's quite an accomplishment. And they never once doubted that the crime scenes you made were any less than authentic?"
"…" Yosuke simply looked away.
"Too humble to share your genius? It's okay, I recognize a fellow troublemaker when I see one. There's no shame in it, sometimes you just want to make the world pay attention to you. I can relate, everything I did was just for the sake of attention," the cream colored hair boy replied with a mischievous smile.
"And who are you exactly?" I asked.
"What you don't recognize God when you see him?" the cream colored hair boy replied and then chuckled. "I'm Noriaki Kita, also known as the Almighty Tenshi."
"Tenshi? You mean that detestable lout who spat blasphemy over social media one year ago?" a white-haired guy sitting at the back of the jail cell replied. "The one who wears the false title of God, you just said it was you correct?" He stood up and then made his way to the cream colored hair boy. The white-haired guy was carrying an old, black leather bible with him. "You dare mock God by pretending to be Him. God is almighty, all-knowing. He created all and will eventually destroy all. He is the Alpha and the Omega, and we are just ants compared to Him and His grace."
The cream colored hair boy snickered. "My dear sir, haven't you heard the news? God is dead. The old one at least. How else do you explain Tenshi rising to power so quickly? People wish for a God to rule over them. It's only natural, they want someone to believe in. But your God never delivers on anything. I played the role of God for one month and I changed the world completely. I'm a better God than your God ever was."
The white-haired boy grabbed the cream colored hair boy by his shirt collar and reeled him in. "You dare speak so lightly of the Almighty? May he smite thee blasphemous cur and deliver eternal damnation upon your soul."
"See that's why Tenshi is a better God than yours. Tenshi teaches love and acceptance, he treats each one of his followers like they deserve and listens to their prayers unlike yours. Tenshi is the one and only true God," the cream colored hair boy spat.
The white-haired boy pulled the cream colored hair boy up off the bench and raised him up in the air by his shirt collar, making him gasp for air.
This looks like it's going to go back and forth for a little bit so let me take the time to talk to you about these two, here's a big hint. I helped capture both of them, but they don't know. Shh, make sure to keep my identity as Kogoro Akechi a secret. Now first up is the Almighty Tenshi here. He had thick, wavy, disheveled cream colored hair that reached just below his mid back, with random shorter strands that stuck out in random directions. He had long bangs were pulled back with a light green hairclip that rested on top of his head, and half lidded violet eyes that gave him a disinterested appearance. He also had a pretty face with delicate features like a small nose, thin long eyebrows, and long eyelashes. And he also had three beauty marks underneath his right eye. He had a light olive skin tone and a fairly skinny and lanky build. He wore a slightly baggy pair of dark blue jeans with black shoes that had yellow accents. He also wore a pale blue button up T-shirt that was on the long side and reached a bit past his hips. On top of his shirt he wore an open dark grey hooded vest. The inside of the vest was covered with short silver fur that was only noticeable through the hood of the vest. And finally he wore two pairs of silver rings on his thumbs and middle fingers.
NORIAKI KITA
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE SMOOTH-TALKER
Noriaki Kita. There's only one way to describe him, trouble. A little over a year ago he was just your average everyday high school student, well not exactly average, he was actually pretty popular believe it or not. In fact, he was so popular that people created websites and blogs in his name. He became an internet icon without even knowing it. Now Kita had always been a trouble maker, but the guy appeared to be gifted with a silver tongue at birth, as any time he got into trouble he could immediately talk his way out of it. It even got to the point where people would do anything he would say just by feeding them compliments and attention. He takes positive reinforcement to a whole new level. Anyways, when Kita found out about his internet celebrity status he was a little shocked at first, after all he seemed to get famous overnight and had never actually done anything to garner such attention. But soon Kita realized something, his fans on the internet would do anything for him. And for a troublemaker like Kita, that kind of power was too addictive. He started meeting up with each of his fans individually and asked them each to do something illegal for him. It started with just vandalism and petty theft at first, but soon things got completely out of hand. They committed horrible acts against man and country all because it was the will of someone named Tenshi.
It was clear that a person who went out of their way to call themself Tenshi, had a pretty nasty God complex. But along with being an egomaniac, Tenshi was very cunning and secretive. It took the police months just to get a single solid lead on him. But after following the lead, I managed to track him down and find the face behind the mask of Tenshi. Noriaki Kita. The police came and arrested him and discovered just how far he was going to make his followers go. Kita was truly playing God; it was a horrid sight indeed. My identity as the person who unmasked Kita was kept hidden by the government out of fear that one of Kita's followers would come after me as vengeance. I never got the chance to meet Noriaki in person but after just spending a few minutes with him I could tell that all my theories about him were correct. He is another person who I feel is beyond redemption.
Alright next is the white-haired guy with the annoying biblical attitude. He had very long, flowing white hair and a pair of dull gray eyes. He wore a pair of black pants that were tucked into a pair of matching boots. He also wore a long black coat that was closed up, but open from the waist down; and on the front of the coat was a white cross, going down to the end of the coat which went down to the start of his boots. The coat also had a big collar that was popped up, making it kind of hard to see his face. The sleeves had also been folded to line up with his wrists and had a white line around the end of the sleeve that had been folded out and another at the wrist, it also had white lines connecting the two around it leaving black spots in between the white lines. And underneath his coat he wore a white dress shirt.
GINROU KUBIKIRI
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE EXECUTIONER
Ginrou Kubikiri, one of the few serial killers who have been transferred to Icarus. He is also the culprit behind one of the first serial murder cases that I ever consulted on. He is by all definition a fucking lunatic. But it's not all his fault. As I worked his case I began to learn more about him, from a young age he was raised to believe in a high moral standing and the legitimacy of the judicial system. His father, being one of the head prosecutors for the district attorney's office, acted as a role model to him and made Kubikiri believe in proper crime and punishment for all law breakers. Unfortunately, sometime around his early preteen years he became obsessed with religion, and his high moral standing caused him to delve into the depravity of religion and find a new obsession. Biblical punishment. His father, famous for always prosecuting on death penalty cases, arranged for him to see executions up close and personal during this dramatic change in his behavior. And the end result was not pretty. Within a few years Kubikiri had managed to convince his father to let him play an active part in the executions, and eventually he became the one to do the deed himself.
But soon thereafter he found that the judicial system was not as perfect as his father made it out to be. Criminals got away on technicalities, and innocent people were reprimanded and punished without a second thought. So he decided to take matters into his own hands and tracked down people he believed were truly deserving of "divine retribution". Each of his victims were brutally murdered using different execution methods, and he would have continued his work had I not caught on to him. However, instead of receiving a much deserving death penalty himself his father pulled some strings to get him admitted to a mental hospital, claiming that his job as an executioner had driven him temporarily insane. But I knew the truth, Kubikiri wasn't insane. He knew full well what he was doing, he just didn't care. He was delivering his own cold brand of justice by killing people. And that made him just as bad as the criminals he executed.
"Insolent brat, God shall be praised and all false idols shall be destroyed," Ginrou spat into Noriaki's face. "The punishment for your defiance and blasphemy shall be…"
"Hey tall, dark, and freaky," another one of the boys called out to Ginrou. "Seriously cut it with all the religious crap, you're giving me a freaking headache. If the little snot nose wants to think he's all powerful, let him. What concern is it to you?" I saw that the guy who dared speak out against Ginrou was sitting on a bench on the opposite wall of me. He wore a dark gray ascot hat and carried a dark brown cane with a round, silver handle.
"You, with a look as mischievous and cunning as Lucifer himself, why do you defend a person who calls himself God?" Ginrou replied coolly.
The boy with the cane shrugged. "What can I say? I admire people who dare to dream big. The brat wants to think he's some all-powerful God, I say why not? If we don't dream big, we live small uneventful lives that never amount to anything."
"You're saying I should forgive this weak, pitiful coward who dares call himself the Almighty?" Ginrou asked.
"I'm saying that you should let him do and say whatever he wants. He has his beliefs, you have yours. Why do you have to fight at all? Why do you let the idiotic things he says get to you so much?"
"…" Ginrou was at a loss for words.
The boy with the cane scoffed. "You see this is exactly why there's still fighting going on in the Middle East. My God is the true God, yours isn't and because of that I'm going to kill you. When you get right down to it, none of that shit makes any sense."
Ginrou let go of Noriaki and sat him back down on his bench. Noriaki coughed hard as air filled his lungs again. Ginrou didn't pay him any mind though, he was now focused on the boy with the cane. "Do you think you're above divine retribution as well? Lucifer Incarnate?"
"Actually, I don't believe in any religion. It's all too messy for my taste, the only thing I have complete faith in is the process of supply and demand. I'm a businessman you see, and a rule I've learned in presenting myself as such is not to mix business and personal beliefs. That's why, I really don't care what you do. I just didn't want you to kill that kid in here, there's no telling how long we'll be in here and I don't want to have to deal with the smell. Plus, all your religious bull crap was kind of getting on my nerves," the boy with the cane replied in a condescending tone.
"…" Ginrou was speechless. Clearly he didn't expect someone to so carelessly stand up to him. But after a few moments the surprise wore off and he simply glared at him. "This is not over, you demon in a suit." Then Ginrou walked back to his bench in the back of the cell and sat down.
Noriaki had finally gotten his breathing back under control and said something snide under his breath. "Told your ass," he snickered.
"And you, shut the hell up or I'll come over there and beat the crap out of you myself," the boy with the cane said to Noriaki.
"…" Noriaki immediately went quiet.
"Finally, maybe now we can have a little peace and quiet," the boy with the cane said as he closed his eyes and rested.
Alright, next up is this charmer. Damion Stavros. He had thick, curly dark brown hair that reached the top of his ears. And he also had a handsome face with fair skin and very few blemishes with hazel colored eyes. Along with his dark gray ascot hat, he wore a dark gray three-piece suit with a dark purple long sleeve button up shirt, a black tie, and a pair of black dress shoes.
DAMION STAVROS
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE BLACK MARKET KING
You would probably think with how this guy acts that he would be some kind of criminal mastermind, am I right? Well you would be correct. You're looking at one of the youngest and most notorious criminal kingpins in the world. His father owned a freighter shipping company set out of Greece that was actually a cover for a huge black market smuggling operation. In his childhood, Stavros watched his father deal with both businesses and eventually went on to take them over after his father passed away. Since then Stavros has been revered as one of the most conniving, backstabbing, moneygrubbing, and threatening criminal kingpins of Europe. It took Interpol years to build a case against him as he had a nasty habit of reading people and killing off anyone who was disloyal to him. Or anyone who got in the way of his business for that matter.
It was hard to believe that just a few months ago he was on top of the world and had his hands in counterfeiting, narcotics, weapons, prostitution, and stolen goods ventures. But that kind of success made Stavros really cocky. And now he was serving eight consecutive life sentences in prison with no possibility of parole. It just goes to show you, crime doesn't pay.
"Can I help you with something?" Damion asked with his eyes still closed. "I can feel you staring at me. It's annoying, please stop."
I looked away from him without so much as a reply. 'That guy's got unrealistic insight.' The rumors about him were not exaggerated. I decided to look at another person in order to escape Damion's mental eye. A boy standing near the front end of the bench Damion sat on peeked my interest. He appeared to be leaning on the bars of the cell, and I could hear him muttering to himself. "Hey what are you doing to the bars anyway?"
The boy fiddling with the bars turned back to face me. Then he replied, "If you must know, I'm busy picking the lock on the cell door."
"Lock?" I repeated in confusion.
"Yeah, this is a really old-school cell. The only thing that's keeping this door from opening is this bulky, ancient-looking lock," the boy replied.
"And why would you try and do that? This is prison, we're supposed to be here. If they catch you trying to escape you'll probably end up with even more time," I replied, trying to be the voice of reason.
"That would be the case if this was normal imprisonment, but it's not. You've only been awake for a few minutes so you don't know, but I was one of the first people to wake up. We've been stuck in here for hours, maybe even all day. And I haven't seen a single guard in that whole time. Isn't it against regulations to leave prisoners unattended for that long?" the boy replied.
My eyes widened. 'They haven't seen a guard all this time? That really is odd. It's extremely dangerous to leave prisoners unsupervised, especially with criminals like these guys.' I got up from my seated position and walked to the front of the cell to join the boy picking the lock. I peeked outside the prison cell we were in and took note of the area. It definitely wasn't normal; it was almost like something out of a dungeon. The corridor was made entirely of cobblestone and was dimly lit by torches, and it looked extremely damp. 'Could this be one of Icarus' lower levels? But I took a full tour of the prison yesterday, I don't remember seeing any place like this.' I looked to my left and took note of the narrow staircase that led up to the unknown. Then I looked to my right, and saw that there were several other unoccupied prison cells as well as an old wooden door that led to another area. I also took note of the large lock that the boy was attempting to pick. It looked incredibly old and rusty, and all the boy had on him was a paperclip. He was obviously having a hard time. 'If this is Icarus like those guys said, then they must have purposely kept me from this area on my tour. But why?' Then a horrible thought crept into my head. 'Are they really planning on doing something illegal here?' I was only kidding when I mentioned human experimentation to Eliza, I knew she was up to something but I didn't think it would be something like that.
Then my thoughts were quelled with a fact that I had since forgotten. 'Wait, no Eliza was drugged too. If she was behind this it wouldn't make sense to drug herself, unless she thought I might think that way, in which case she might've drugged herself to cover her tracks.' Then I shook my head. 'No that's stupid, I'm overthinking this. Some third party is responsible for this. Maybe instead of Eliza, Icarus is really taking orders from someone else, maybe even her father.' I continued to study my surroundings, looking for any detail that stuck out. And then I finally saw what appeared to be a security camera tucked into a corner, it was hidden by the shadows but I still managed to make it out. "Hey, there's a security camera over there," I told the boy picking the lock.
"Where?" he replied.
I pointed it out. "To your right, lean back a little bit. It's tucked away in that corner, see it?"
The boy did as I instructed and then he nodded in reply. "Okay, I see it now. That's kind of a weird placement, isn't it? You can't tell if we're all in the cell from that angle."
"No, based on the way it's pointing, I'd say all it's doing is monitoring the corridor," I replied.
"Okay, see what I mean? No guard patrols and even the cameras are wonky. This is not a legitimate prison no matter how you look at it." He then started furiously thrusting his paperclip in the lock's keyhole. "We have to get out of here, or else they might just leave us here until we die."
I didn't want to admit it but I was starting to become paranoid as well. 'Is this really Icarus? Or is this place somewhere else entirely?' I asked myself. I took in a deep breath. 'Calm down, you're not going to get anywhere acting all paranoid. For now, just learn whatever you can. This guy seems to be the only one who's taking any of this seriously.' I looked back to the boy who was busy picking the lock. "So how long have you been at that anyway?"
"About an hour or so, I'm usually pretty good at picking locks but this one is proving to be a problem. Nevermind the fact that I'm forced to do this at a weird angle, my real concern is this piece of shit lock. It's like all the tumblers inside of it are rusted," he replied.
While he's busy, let me tell you some more about this handy individual. His name is Lucius Morita, and his background is relatively unknown, but I'll tell you what little was in Eliza's files. But first, let me paint a picture for you. He had long, blonde hair that went over his ears, and a pair of monochromatic eyes, his left eye being brown and his right eye being green. And he also had lightly tanned skin along with above average musculature. He wore a white plaid over-shirt and a black T-shirt along with a pair of faded dark blue jeans and a pair of black tennis shoes.
LUCIUS MORITA
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE ARSENAL
What little is known about Lucis Morita is not pretty. He is quiet at times, usually only conversing with those who talk to him first. But underneath that timid exterior boils a seething hot pool of rage. It goes back to his childhood which was rocked by the tragic death of his father who was shot during a home invasion gone wrong, in response to this, Lucius let out his anger and tackled the robber to the ground and then went on to relentlessly pummel him into submission. The robber later died from sustaining multiple contusions to the head. Morita had actually murdered a man with his bare fists. As the years went on he became increasingly detached from reality due to the trauma he suffered. In order to protect himself and those around him he began building an arsenal of sorts, and mastered the craft of making weapons and tools from scratch. However, there was one slight problem. While he could make these weapons and tools, he could not use them himself as he demonstrated to the officers who arrested him. He couldn't even handle the kickback from a regular pistol.
The police in turn figured that Morita had a lucrative side business of selling weapons on the streets to gangs and criminals, however this remained to be proven as they could never find a single one of his supposed buyers. To this day Morita insists that the weapons were for protection and nothing else, which is ironic since the reason he was arrested by police in the first place was because of a string of assaults on several people, who were all violently beaten within an inch of death. Like I said, Morita has a very explosive temper.
"Does it sound like you've gotten any of the tumblers unlocked yet?" I asked.
"I think I have two so far, but I'm not really sure how many tumblers are inside this lock so there's no telling how long it will take," Lucius replied. "I can handle this, so just go back and sit down. I'll tell you when I've made any more progress."
I nodded in reply. "Alright call me if you need anything," I said.
I noticed that upon leaving my seat, one of the other boys who were standing took possession of it. A boy with dark brown hair and brown eyes slouched back in my seat on the bench. He appeared to be deep in thought about something. Of what I could only imagine. Although I had a pretty good idea of what since I knew who he was. I decided to make my way to the back of the prison cell, where there was still some elbow room. I ended up sitting on the bench at the back of the cell with Ginrou, of course I sat down at the very end of the bench so he wouldn't get any ideas about talking to me. I could not handle that guy right now. However, that may have been a mistake because I ended up sitting close to another psychopath. He had black hair and cobalt blue eyes. He was squatting down on the floor and was huddled into a ball. He appeared to be muttering something into his hands. And that was when an awful smell caught my attention. It was a smell I had known for a while. The smell of decay and decomposition.
I chanced a look at the psychopath in question and then I saw that he was staring right back at me through an opening made by the crevice between his arm and leg. "What do you think of this guy, Kiwi? Do you think he'll be our friend? The other guys in here are so mean to us, all because they're jealous of our friendship." He appeared to be talking to his hands, or rather to something inside his hands. He brought his hands down to the floor and brought his head up into the light so we could talk face to face. "Hello there, would you like to be friends?"
"…" I was quiet.
"It's okay if you don't, after all usually no human wants to be my friend. I like animals better than people anyway, they all want to be my friends. There's not a bad seed amongst them. My favorite animal is the bird, what's yours?" the black-haired boy asked.
"Umm, if I had to say…I guess, a dog?" I replied uneasily.
The black-haired boy nodded in a pleased manner. "Dogs are cute, and they're man's best friend after all. I always wanted a dog, but my parents would never get me one. So I ended up getting Kiwi instead. Not that I'm complaining or anything. Kiwi's cuter than any dog imaginable. He's my pride and joy, my best friend, my whole world. Do you have a best friend?"
I shook my head. "Not particularly, no."
The black-haired boy frowned. "That's so sad, even if you had one friend that would be your best friend. But the fact that you don't even have a best friend means that you don't have any friends. Is that right?"
"No, I actually don't," I replied.
Then his sadness changed to joy in an instant. "Well then, like I asked before. Do you want to be friends? You could be friends with Kiwi too, that way you could have two friends."
"I'm not sure," I replied.
"Please? Please be my friend. I know I said I didn't mind, but it would actually mean a lot to me if I had at least one human friend. Please be my friend," the black-haired boy pleaded.
I sighed. "Alright fine, I'll be your friend."
The black-haired boy chuckled in glee. "Yay!" And then he went back to talking to the thing in his hands. "Did you hear that Kiwi, he said yes! We have a brand new friend to play with! Isn't that great?!" And then he lost interest in me automatically and began conversing with the thing in his hands again.
Alright these two are the last ones here so what do you say we go ahead and get our introductions over with? First, let's start with the guy who stole my seat. He had short, dark brown hair which looked a bit messy, as well as narrow brown eyes which seemed absent-minded due to the fact that he was currently staring off into space. His face was quite handsome but not extraordinary. He was of average height and physique, and both his arms and his upper body were covered in bandages. He wore a green and white checkered shirt, a matching pair of shoes, and a dark pair of jeans. He seems to be one of the most average-looking ones, doesn't he? Well looks can be deceiving, behind that ordinary appearance lurks a wicked and sadistic mind.
TAICHI INAI
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE STALKER
Taichi Inai is by far one of the most disgusting people imprisoned here at Icarus. You've probably heard of the term "yandere", right? It's meant to describe a character trait of a person who mistakes obsession for love. The person they "love" becomes their whole world, and they spend every waking moment making sure that it stays that way. Yanderes can be very violent, and Inai is no exception. It started sometime around his early teen years, he began to obsessively watch people and spend all his time studying each person who peeked his interest. He claimed it was because he wanted to see each person's true self that they would only show in private. Soon he became infatuated with a girl who went to his school and that's when his odd behavior took an even worse turn, he began to follow her and make meticulous notes of her daily schedule. Then he started to record her when she wasn't looking, he recorded everything. Her voice, her laughter, even her breathing patterns. Then he would break into her house and steal things and even threaten the people in her life. It finally ended with him watching the girl sleep, that was when she finally realized she was being stalked. But before anything could be done about him, he disappeared without a trace.
Though she was just the first of dozens of victims. He always had the same pattern, which made the police realize after a few dozen or so cases that he was a serial offender. It took years to finally catch him, he was just that good. And unfortunately the price to finally catch him came at the crushing loss of innocence from his last victim, who's hand he broke, finger by finger in a mad sadistic rage. Now before you ask, no he wasn't one of mine. He was the case a former colleague of mine was pursuing. By the time she came on he was already nearing his tipping point, and thanks to her he was caught before he ended up killing one of the many objects of his affection.
'It's kind of ironic that both him and her are locked in here together. I wonder what will happen when they come face to face. Dammit Eliza, you're playing with pure fire,' I thought to myself. Then I turned and looked to my creepy neighbor. Alright, he's one of mine. He had a heart-shaped face, cobalt blue eyes, a small pointy nose, and light tan skin. He had an average body build, but he was slightly skinny and had faint scars scattered all over his body. He also had slightly long, slightly spiky black hair with small strands in front of his face, and two silver bangs that fell to the side of his head. He wore a white ripped-up T-shirt with a long black, unbuttoned, leather coat over it. He also wore a pair of black cargo shorts with a red strap belt hanging down on his side, a pair of long white socks, and a pair of black leather boots that reached his ankles. Ready to hear his tale? Get ready, it's a creepy one.
KORO KIRIKO
SOON TO BE DECLARED: ULTIMATE TORTURER
Koro Kiriko is one of the most deranged individuals I have ever had the pleasure of dealing with. At a very young age he was diagnosed with a delusional disorder and it was determined that as he aged his mind would further and further regress until he was basically a child within a man's body. Shortly thereafter he became enamored in the art of sewing and took it up as a hobby to keep his mind occupied. He was actually pretty good, the control he had over a needle and thread was something extraordinary for a child his age and a child with his mental illness. But when he turned twelve things began to take a turn for the worse. One day Kiriko found an injured pigeon and tried to care for it, only for the pigeon to treat him with nothing but hostility. Something inside Kiriko snapped and a thought occurred to him, a way for him to "fix" the relationship between him and the pigeon. He grabbed a needle and thread and with amazing control, he sewed the pigeon into his own hands. The pigeon died of blood loss, but he remained unaware of the fact, or even of the fact that he injured his own hands by running a needle through them. The only thought in his mind was that the relationship between him and the pigeon was "fixed". And he went on to take the dead pigeon in as a pet, one he affectionately named Kiwi.
After that Kiriko became filled with the desire to "fix" more relationships, thinking of it as his purpose in life. He started with his own parents, who constantly fought all the time. He knocked them out with sleeping pills and sewed their still alive bodies together. When they woke up he continued to torture them mentally and physically for days, until finally they died from blood loss and mental exhaustion. After successfully "fixing" his parents' relationship, he went on to "fix" the relationships of other individuals. Luckily, I stopped him before he could get to double digits. Kiriko personally doesn't know why he acts the way he does, it might be because he's not able to recognize the fact that he isn't normal.
"You said your name was Kogoro-chan, right?" Koro suddenly asked me. "My name's Koro, let's be the best of friends," he said with big smile on his face. Then he uncapped his hands and showed me what exactly he was hiding, the decomposing skeleton of a bird. "Promise you'll be friends with Kiwi too." It was very odd, the lifeless bird wasn't sewn to his hands anymore and yet he still carried it only in his hands.
Victor saw that I was talking to Koro. "That guy's a freaking nut, isn't he? That's why none of us bothered talking to him."
I nodded in agreement. Koro appeared unable to hear our conversation as he affectionately petted his bird, it was almost as if he was in his own world. And then I sat quietly for a few minutes and thought things over, until finally I heard a very sweet sound. Click.
My ears pricked up as I stared at Lucius' back. I could see the others guys staring at Lucius as well, they were also eager. Lucius turned to face us and smiled as he held up the lock to the cell as if it were an award. "Good news, guys. We're free to go."
A/N: Sorry these aren't all the introductions, this post ended up being longer than I intended it to be. But don't worry, I'm already halfway through with the girls' introductions so I should be finished sometime this weekend, and two posts in one week will make up for not posting anything last week. Please bear with me, I'm writing as fast as I can.
Further notes: Some of you OC writers may have noticed that I added certain details to your characters, I hope you like them.