Prison Block Part Two

With there being no other options, Miles and I stepped into the decontamination chamber. Green smoke shot from the vents at us, making us cough a bit. Once that was done, the doors opposite us opened, and Miles and I walked through, coming into a dark room with a staircase leading to the upper floor. A small, white plaque on the wall read: A Block.

"Might as well keep going," Miles stated with a shrug, beginning his descent up the stairs, me following behind him. We reached the platform leading to the second set of stairs, looking at the bloody arrows pointing upward.

"I wonder what Father Martin wants from us," I said softly.

"It's hard to say. Probably something to do with his Walrider bullshit." Miles replied.

"I don't think it's all bullshit, Sherlock," I said. "Remember back in the lobby, when you said I'd looked like I'd seen a ghost?"

"I remember. What about it?" Miles asked, studying me.

"I saw the Walrider." I replied. His face went pale for a second.

"The thing we saw ripping Murkoff's security team apart?" He asked.

"Yes. It's real. That much we know. But there's a lot more we don't know, and I don't think we're going to like it," I replied.

"I believe you're right," said Miles as we reached the top of the steps. Miles stopped abruptly, causing me to bump into him. I moved from behind him to his side to see what he was looking at. We saw a man whom we assumed to be a patient, moving left to right, touching the wall in front of us, whispering loudly.

"Only way out is down.. Down the drain… With the blood, he said.." Sure enough, on the wall in front of the patient, the words "DOWN THE DRAIN" were written in blood. On the floor next to the patient was a bloody trail, leading down into a hole in the floor. Miles and I carefully walked by him, keeping our eyes on him the whole time. While this particular patient didn't appear to be dangerous, or even care that we were there, neither one of us were willing to take any chances. The metallic stench of blood stung our nostrils as we jumped down the drain, coming to halt. We saw an elevator which we unfortunately couldn't use, a puddle of blood, a desk, and some other things blocking the exit door across from us. There was another door to our left, but it appeared to be locked.

Lacking any other choice, we made our way to the only available door, opened just a crack. Miles pushed it open carefully, and soon we found ourselves in a dimly lit room, complete with prison cells. Paper littered the floor. Miles and I could barely make out the dark silhouette of a patient, locked in his cell. He was staring at us, his fingers wrapped around the bars. Then, he spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"They weren't experiments. They were rituals. A conjuring." Miles's eyes went wide and I felt my own heart drop into my stomach.

"A conjuring for what? The Walrider?" Miles asked the man, an undercurrent of alarm lacing his voice. Upon hearing this, the man backed up into his cell, sitting on his bed, shaking.

"Can't say more," The man said, hiding his face in his legs. Seeing as he was unwilling to say anything else, Miles and I walked into the next room, which was illuminated by the light, revealing two lockers, but no other doors.

"Guess we should go back the other way, Sherlock." I said, and Miles and I headed back out into the hall. We came upon a desk, which we both climbed over, heading for the open exit door leading into yet another corridor. Miles and I nearly jumped out of our skin when we reached the next room, hearing the shout of an angry patient.

"SHUT UP!! JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME THINK FOR A MINUTE!!" The man shouted furiously. I felt my heart begin to pound in my chest, my hands shaking as I clenched them into fists, my nails biting into my palms.

What the hell is going on? I thought. Miles and I quietly crept around the corner, listening carefully as the patient continued to shout. My whole body was trembling.

"QUIET!! QUIET!!!" We heard the patient shout, then he began to grunt and Miles and I heard the sickening sound of what seemed to be bones cracking, the two of us wincing each time we heard it. I reached forward, my hand clamping around Miles's jacket, and he turned his head to face me, studying me carefully. I realized how close we were, and my heart started to pick up again, and I pulled myself back slightly.

"You okay, Blackie?" He whispered, concerned.

"I just need a minute," I whispered back.

"Okay, but we have to keep going. I know you don't want to. Hell, I don't want to. But we have to." Miles whispered again. I took a deep breath, willing myself to stop shaking and to calm down before I let go of his jacket. My palms were sweating so badly. There was a glass window above us, and we were crouched down below it. The two of us carefully peeked into it, and what I saw nearly made me cry out, but I held back. The patient's back was facing us, and he kept bringing a crowbar down on a man who was already dead, blood flying, a sickening squelch met our ears every time he did. I wanted to puke.

"We need to keep moving. But we'd better-" Miles began, but stopped when the patient stopped what he was doing and turned around. He was now facing us. My eyes went wide as I jumped back, standing up quickly. Miles stood up calmly, not taking his eyes off of the patient. We backed up until our backs were pressed against the wall. I felt like a mouse in a snake's den, waiting for it to strike. The patient studied us momentarily, holding his crowbar as he spoke to us.

"I'd like you two to stay quiet," He said hoarsely. Miles kept his composure very well. He didn't show how scared he was at all. I, on the other hand, didn't bother to hide how freaked out I was. I was hyperventilating and trying to calm myself down as I nodded at the patient, both Miles and I watching him as we made our way past him.

"Lovelynn, we're okay now. Just breathe." Miles said to me. I nodded, breathing slowly and evenly, until I was calm.

"Blackie, I'm not trying to be an asshole, but you need to control your emotions better. Panicking doesn't help our situation any." said Miles. When he said this, it instantly pissed me off.

"You may not have been trying but you're being an asshole. And I don't appreciate it. Excuse me for never being in a situation like this." I snapped, glaring at him.

"Maybe if you were better at your job, you would have more investigative opportunities. Then you could actually handle the shit that comes with it." Miles snapped back. I felt a hot stab of pain in my heart when he said this. I thought he understood and that we were in this together. Angry, I snapped back.

"And maybe if you still had yours, you'd have a right to actually bitch at me. Fuck you." When I said this, Miles glared at me.

"You want to turn back and take your chances with our crowbar friend back there? Be my guest. I'm going to keep going. I can't believe I agreed to this damn job anyway. Babysitting a grown ass woman. To hell with you and this fucked up place." He said coldly. I stood there, rage pulsing through my body. He probably really would keep going.

No, he won't. Because I'm going to abandon him before he abandons me. I turned away from him and began walking back the way we'd come. Once again, I was crying, but I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of seeing it. His words made me feel pathetic. But I had a right to feel what I was feeling. And I'll be damned another person decide my feelings for me. I looked back, but Miles had already made his way to a security door, pushing it open, not looking at me. So I kept walking. I was halfway through the corridor when I heard shouting.

"YOU!! YOU'RE ONE OF THOSE MURKOFF PRICKS, AREN'T YOU!? I WILL RIP YOUR DAMN GUTS OUT!!!" Then I heard the pounding of footsteps. Along with the footsteps, my heart pounded as well. I waited for something more to happen, but it didn't.

Keep going. He doesn't need me anyway. I thought. But the more I stood there, the more worried I became. I never did listen to my mind, only my heart. And that wasn't changing now just because I was pissed. I wasn't leaving him here alone. I turned and ran back the whole way towards Miles, praying that I got to him on time. When I got there, Miles was fighting for his life on the floor with a man who I'd assumed came from the security room. The man with the crowbar just stood there, watching everything unfold. Neither Miles nor the patient he was fighting with noticed me. Fists were flying. Legs kicking. I walked quietly to them and then, without thinking, I jumped onto the patient's back, wrapping my legs around his sides, my arms coming around his neck and squeezing as tightly as I could. He dug his dirty nails into the flesh of my arms, blood seeping out. I bit my lip in pain.

" Go back to hell where you came from, motherfucker," I snarled, teeth clenched. The patient rolled off of Miles, and I lay on my back, still having him in a chokehold. He finally passed out. I checked his pulse at his neck. He was still alive, but he was unconscious. I let my death grip go, breathing heavily as Miles kicked the guy off of me, grabbing my hands and pulling me up in the process. I was surprised when Miles let my hands go and pulled me into his arms instead, finally breaking down. He was actually crying. I hugged him back, sobbing into his chest.

"I'm… I'm s-so.. Sorry, Lovelynn!" He sputtered, trembling, not letting me go. I looked up at him, tears still falling.

"Me, too, Miles." I replied hoarsely. We stood there, looking into each other's eyes for a moment. I was pressed right up against him. I could feel his heart racing against mine.

"Miles?" I breathed out, as he gazed at me intensely. The air between us seemed to be charged with electricity.

"Shut the fuck up." He growled, one arm around me while he brought the other one up, tangling his hand into my hair, and crashing his lips onto mine. At that moment, I was in pure bliss, every thought disappearing from my mind except for the feeling of his lips. I kissed him back hungrily, running my hands up his arms and placing them on either side of his face, pressing my body into his even more. Miles squeezed me tighter, gently nibbling my lower lip. I parted my lips, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth. His hands came down my body slowly, over my breasts, my stomach, my hips. I moaned softly as he pushed me against the wall, grabbing my thighs and lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around him. He pulled away from me, still holding me as he looked at me. Both of us were flushed and breathing hard from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting our lips.

"I would fuck you on this floor if I could." said Miles. Damn, this man. Very tempting. I smiled, tracing my fingers along his jawline. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch.

"We have to get out of here and you have to take me on a few dates first." I replied, kissing him one last time before we reluctantly let each other go. Miles smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So… Uh… Let's check out the security room," He said. I giggled, shaking my head as I followed him back to the security room. There was a button on the desk, and I pushed it. Light flooded into another decontamination chamber. The words "FOLLOW THE BLOOD" were written on the window, like a beacon in the night. Miles and I froze as we heard footsteps making their way back to us. I scrambled under the desk in front of the large window, while Miles bolted under the desk across from me. He held a finger to his lips, looking at me. I nodded, watching as the patient with the crowbar entered the room. He made his way to the desk with the button, studying it momentarily. While his back was turned, I quietly moved out from under the desk. Miles's eyes widened as he watched me, shaking his head.

"Come on," I mouthed to him. I kept my eyes on the patient as Miles quietly crawled out from under the desk. The patient made no move towards us. Miles and I backed up slowly, until we were near the door. The patient stood still; so we slipped out of there, making our way to the decontamination chamber. Once we were safely inside, the doors closed, and the green gas came out once again. The doors then opened, and Miles and I walked through to the other side, continuing down the hallway. I stopped when I noticed two men on the other side of the barred doors. These must be the twins Miles was telling me about. I shouldn't have been, but I was surprised to see that they were completely nude. Then, one of them spoke.

"Like what you see, pretty girl? Perhaps I could have your ovaries." He said. The other grinned wickedly.

"And I could have your breasts." I was disgusted with them, and I glared at them. Not a chance in hell. Then, they noticed Miles.

"We gave him a chance."

"I'd say we were more than fair."

"Paragons of patience."

"Job-like in the suppression of our desires."

"But now."

"Now."

"Now we indulge."

"Yes."

"His tongue and his liver."

"Yours."

"Mine."

I looked at Miles, who frowned in disgust. These guys were seriously disturbed. We had no time left to waste, however. I noticed an open window, and I nodded towards it, motioning for Miles to follow. I climbed over it, hanging onto it, refusing to look down. Miles followed behind me. We shifted to the right as we climbed over into the opposite window, finding ourselves where the twins just were. Thankfully, they were long gone. At the end of the hall, we noticed a bloody arrow pointing to the left.

"Follow the blood?" Miles asked, looking at me.

"Follow the blood." I replied. We came to a broken down decontamination chamber next to the arrow.

"I think we should see what's in here," Miles said. I nodded and followed him through, stopping at the top of a staircase. We saw Chris Walker on the bottom floor.

"Have to contain it," he said, ripping a patient's head clean off, blood spurting everywhere as his lifeless body slumped to the ground. I bit back a scream, tears welling in my eyes. Miles took my hand, pulling me the other direction. Something gold glimmered in the darkness, catching my eye. I picked it up, seeing that it was a key card. The word "SHOWERS" was written in black across it.

"Let's head to the showers, then," said Miles. We quickly made our way to the showers. Miles held the key card in front of the sensor, and we heard some locks clicking. The light on the sensor changed from red to green. Then, Miles pushed the door open, and we once again found ourselves in the dark, though we could see the shapes of lockers in the room. A storm was brewing. We could hear thunder rumbling outside.

"Stay by me," Miles whispered, making his way down the hallway, me following behind. I heard rain pounding relentlessly outside, and my eyes darted left and right.

Who knew what was waiting for us here, in the darkness?