Prison Block Part Three
The rain pounded and the thunder boomed as Miles and I continued onward, cameras raised, our night vision and the lightning illuminating the otherwise pitch-black room. Why some people found storms relaxing; I would never understand. When I was a little girl, storms terrified me. That fear never left even as I became an adult. Something about the thunder and the pounding of the rain seemed sinister to me. I was never really sure why. Maybe because a storm overshadowed any other noises or dangers that could be nearby. Maybe that was it. Or maybe, being here, it was the shadows. Maybe this place is getting to me.
A crack of lightning startled me, lighting up the corridor we were in. During the brief flash of light, I noticed one of the twins from earlier standing in front of me. I turned my head, and the other was standing in front of Miles. We stood, back to back, keeping our eyes on the twins who were no more than two feet ahead of us. How were they so stealthy? We didn't even hear them coming. I looked to my side, noticing an open window. I noticed Miles was looking at it too.
"Out the window," He whispered, low enough for only me to hear. I quickly climbed out the window, holding onto the ledge with Miles beside me. The wind was blowing harshly, and the rain pounded on us, soaking and chilling us to the bone. Squinting my eyes against the rain, I gripped the ledge as best as I could against the wetness of the windowpane.
Don't let go. Don't look down. Don't let go. Don't look down. I kept saying this to myself over and over, like a mantra. We began moving to the right, listening to the twins.
"My God, they vanished."
"Vanished without a trace."
"I detect sarcasm."
"It was my intention."
"They think we're assholes."
"Or stupid."
"Let's pull them in and slit their bellies open."
"Wait. Just a moment."
Miles and I hung there for a moment longer until I was sure I couldn't hold on any longer. My shoulders and arms burned, my hands tingling. Miles raised up slightly, looking into the window at the corridor.
"They're gone. Let's go." Miles said softly, climbing back inside and pulling me back in. Once we were back inside the corridor, I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall. I was slowly getting used to us running for our lives. I didn't like that. I didn't like the idea of us becoming numb and desensitized to all of this. Whatever I had to feel, no matter how bad it was, I wanted to feel it. That way I could process it in a healthy way and hopefully move on. Right now, however, I wasn't feeling anything. That bothered me.
"You good, Blackie?" Miles asked, standing next to me. I sighed.
"Honestly? No. But I'm handling it." I replied. He nodded.
"Yeah, I get it." Miles replied, sighing. I picked up our cameras where we'd left them on the floor.
"Here," I said, handing his camera to him. We turned our night vision on, looking at each other.
Lord, this man is fine as hell. I studied his face, quite enjoying the way the rain had made his hair stick to his face. My eyes traveled from his beautiful, deep brown eyes to his jawline. I loved the dark stubble he had there. Then, his lips. I wanted to kiss him again, so badly. The man was a damn good kisser, better than anyone else I'd ever kissed. I was willing to bet that kissing wasn't the only thing he was good at. Once we got out of here, I definitely wanted to find out. My heart raced at the thought, warmth pooling into my lower body.
Miles
I studied Lovelynn as she was studying me. The man that left her is a fool. She has a heart of gold and she's fucking stunning. Even with her cheek red and welted, her bun nearly completely down, she was gorgeous. My eyes lingered on her face for a moment before they traveled down to her neck and collarbones, which I would love to kiss. She was soaked from the rain, and I was loving the way her clothes clung to her body, showing every curve she had. I wanted this woman like I'd never wanted anyone else. I reached my hand out, pulling her hair tie out of her hair gently, watching as it fell down her shoulders and over her chest, clinging to her body.
"Much better," I whispered to her. Lovelynn sat her camera down, stepping right up to me, our faces inches apart. I felt her breath dance across my lips as she gazed into my eyes with an intensity I'd never seen before. Then she took my face in her hands, bringing her lips to mine, softly, sweetly, sensually. I let my camera drop to the floor. If it's broken, so fucking be it. I thought as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me. This kiss was different from the one we'd first shared. I moved my lips with hers, slowly, teasingly. I was disappointed when she pulled away, the kiss ending far too soon for my liking.
Then, cameras in hand, we made our way into another corridor.
Lovelynn
My whole body was warm and tingly from our kiss. I never wanted to stop kissing him, but we unfortunately had to keep going.
"Miles, there's another security room we haven't yet explored," I said, motioning to the door on our left. We could actually see the inside of this particular room through the big glass window.
"Let's head inside," Miles replied, pushing the door open. Once inside, we really noticed how big this room was. There was a desk on one end, and on the other, there was another desk complete with two computers. There was a button in between the two computers, which had to be for the decontamination chamber on the other side of the glass window. File cabinets lined the room. The only way for Miles and I to move forward was to push that button. Miles was already ahead of me, however. He pushed it, the green smoke spouting into the chamber, the doors opening. We were about to head for the chamber when we saw Chris Walker step into it. Miles quickly ran back over to me as Chris grunted with rage, pounding onto the glass with his fists, causing it to crack. Son of a bitch.
" RUN!!!" Miles shouted. He didn't have to tell me twice. As we ran, both of us were looking left and right, looking for a way out. The window was beginning to give, shattering more with each passing minute. I looked up at the ceiling, a vent in it. A desk was underneath it.
"THERE!!" I shouted, pointing upward. Miles and I broke for it. Reaching the desk, I climbed on top of it, straining to reach the vent. Once my hands grasped the metal of it, I pulled it as hard as I could, it finally gave way as it burst open, and I threw it onto the floor. I jumped up into it, reaching for Miles's hand. As our hands made contact, Chris Walker made it into the room, sprinting for Miles. He grabbed Miles's legs, trying to pull him from me. I held on tight as Miles tried to wrestle free, trying to kick Chris Walker.
"LET GO!!" I shouted angrily at Chris. My grip was beginning to slip. But I continued to hold on. Suddenly, behind Chris Walker, I saw another man. He was wearing a patient's uniform, and one side of his face was covered in blisters. He had shaggy blonde hair. He had a file tucked under his arm. I watched as he grabbed the vent covering off the floor, bringing it down on Chris Walker's head. Chris let go of Miles, dropping to the ground. I helped Miles pull himself into the vent, both of us breathing hard. I was shocked and amazed that another patient had helped us. The patient climbed into the vent with us, breathing hard as well.
"Keep going. He won't be out for long," said the patient, motioning for Miles and I to continue on. We nodded as the three of us crawled through. Finally, the three of us came to a stopping point into the vent, dropping down onto the floor below. Then, we continued to run. The patient, Miles, and I cut a corner, momentarily shocked to see a fire in the security room we had just come out of. I wanted to stop, and rethink my next move, but true to the patient's words, Chris wasn't out for long at all. He was back on our tail, chasing us. Before we made it past the fire, there was an explosion, sending Miles, the patient, and I through the opposite wall. Our screams pierced the night as we fell, landing shortly after. The first thing I noticed as I looked up was a dim light, swinging to and fro as pain coursed through my body. To my right, I heard Miles and the patient groaning in pain.
My ribs and chest hurt badly, but we could breathe, and we could move, and we were alive, so I couldn't complain. The next thing I noticed was the smell. Metallic blood and rotting flesh. I felt something soft and slimy, confused as I grabbed at the ground with my hands. I had grabbed an intestine. I screamed, as did Miles and the patient, the three of us picking up our cameras and jumping up quickly. I dropped the organ, my hands covered in blood. We were all covered in blood, the smell of it pungent and old. I was breathing heavily, my ribs pounding with pain as I doubled over, feeling my stomach churn as I vomited, my body shaking. Tears streamed freely down my cheeks. This was wrong. This was sick. Whoever caused all of this deserved to rot in hell. Miles was beside me, rubbing my back and holding my hair, trying to comfort me as best as he could. But there was really no comfort for me, for any of us.
"Lovelynn."
I snapped out of my thoughts as Miles spoke to me. He turned me to face him, wincing as he moved, grabbing my hands firmly but gently. I looked at him, staring into his eyes. He looked tired and terrified all at the same time.
"Miles." I said back, waiting for him to continue speaking. He took a deep breath to compose himself.
"I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But we're going to get out of here. We will escape this hell if it's the last thing we do. Do you understand me?" Miles asked, looking determined.
I took a deep breath before breathing out a raspy "Yeah." This time, when he said we were going to get out of here, I believed him. We had to keep fighting. We would survive this. I had to get back to Noah no matter what. Once we'd all calmed down, the patient that had helped us walked up to Miles and I.
"Who are you?" Miles demanded him, eyeing him warily. The man sighed, before he looked at us, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair.
"Waylon Park." He replied. When he said this, Miles and I exchanged a glance. Then, Miles became angry.
"YOU were the one that emailed me? You were in on this shit!!" Miles shouted, stepping closer to Waylon, who raised his hands in a peace offering.
"I understand you're angry. I understand why. But believe me when I say that when I took this damn job here, I had no idea what was happening behind closed doors. Until I saw it with my own eyes. I worked as a software engineer for Murkoff. Then, I began to pick up on all of the messed up shit they were doing to the patients. Dream therapy. Hurting them. Putting them into the Morphogenic Engine. The blisters on my face are a side effect from being exposed to it. The day I emailed you, Miles, the head of the asylum caught me. Jeremy Blaire. He was dedicated to keeping all of this madness under wraps. And he put anyone who tried to oppose him through the Morphogenic Engine. Including me. He made it look like I voluntarily committed myself, but that wasn't the case. I managed to escape when the security breach happened. I've seen my own fair share of fucked up things here. I had a cannibalistic man pursue me and try to kill me. Another one handed me over to Eddie Gluskin, one of the worst patients I'd seen. I witnessed Jeremy Blaire get torn apart from the inside out by the Walrider. I'm not against either one of you. I want to help you. I want to get back to my wife, Lisa, and our boys." Waylon responded.
Miles and I took a few minutes to process this. I believed him. I didn't blame him for this. He tried to do the right thing, but unfortunately, he got caught. I felt bad for him, especially with him being exposed to the Morphogenic Engine. I understood his desire to get back to his family. I wanted to get back to mine too. I noticed he still had the document under his arm.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing at it. Waylon pulled it out from under his arm.
"This? I will show you both once we reach the Underground Lab. This is a promise." Waylon replied.
"Okay." I said, and Miles sighed. "Sorry, man. I wasn't thinking straight. Didn't mean to accuse you of anything." Waylon waved it off.
"No big deal. Had the roles been reversed, I'd have said the same thing." Waylon responded. Before Miles or I could say anything more, we heard a roar, and a loud thump as Chris Walker jumped down into the room, growling in the darkness.
"Let's go," Waylon whispered, "I see some stairs nearby."
The three of us backed up against the wall, creeping along it silently, none of us taking our eyes off of the large man across from us. Chris Walker stopped, looking left and right, before sniffing the air. The three of us stayed still against the wall. Our breathing was in sync, hearts racing, as we waited for something more to happen. Chris Walker then continued walking, heading into a nearby open cell door.
"Time to go," Waylon whispered, running for the stairs, Miles and I following behind him. Our feet pounded up the stairs as Chris Walker chased us close behind.
"Little pigs. Little pigs." He rasped as we ran into a corridor, finally losing him as we squeezed through a gap in the wall, coming to a vent in the floor that we could crawl through. We made haste into it. Once we reached the other side, we came face to face with the angry gaze of a bald patient, who was sitting on the edge of a bed, trembling slightly and staring at us. We waited a moment for him to make a move, but he didn't. He didn't acknowledge us.
Miles, Waylon, and I soon found ourselves in another large room, filled with prison cells. Inside those cells were more patients. There was even one in a straight jacket wandering around, his face bandaged, muttering strange things to the three of us. Despite his eyes being covered, he seemed to be able to see us, which disturbed me a little.
"Silky. You look so silky," He said flatly, cocking his head to the side. He continued to talk, following the three of us as we investigated the open cells.
"Let me just… I need to tell you a secret. Do you have an itch? You look like you have an itch… Are you my friend?"
Deciding not to engage with the guy, Miles, Waylon, and I climbed up onto the second floor as the patients screamed in their cells, babbling incoherent things to one another. They sounded like they were in agony. It broke my heart to hear it.
"Nurse, I'm gonna need some help getting clean," said a patient, chuckling darkly, "Nurse."
Miles nearly stumbled back into me when a patient lunged out of his chair, grabbing him roughly.
"LET GO OF HIM!!" Waylon and I shouted. Waylon kicked the man into the stomach as Miles shoved him forward, causing the patient to lose his grip as he toppled over the banister, screaming, until he landed hard on the floor below. Miles, Waylon, and I peered over the banister, noticing the puddle of blood forming under the man. He wasn't moving. He was dead. I stepped back, turning away from the sight. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. Miles and Waylon followed behind me, their eyes cast to the ground, neither one of them saying a word. There was a ledge nearby, and we made our way across it, stopping when we heard another patient yell.
"What's the experiment the dead can perform on the living!? I'LL GIVE YOU A HINT. IT'S HAPPENING. THE EXPERIMENT IS STILL HAPPENING!!"
The three of us looked at each other, wondering what he meant. Once we crossed the ledge, we came to a break in the floor, which we jumped over. Once we were across, we noticed another ledge. In front of a cell. With a patient in it. Another chance we have to take. We shimmied our way across, almost to stable flooring again when the patient's arms came through the cell, wrapping around Miles's throat tightly. Miles reached up, grabbing onto the patient's hands and pulled them off of him. Then, he reached his arms out again, cracking Waylon in the face. He winced in pain, holding onto his face as we reached the other side of the ledge.
"Dude, are you okay?" Miles asked Waylon. Waylon chuckled, shaking his head.
"Do I look like it?" He asked.
"Nah. Actually, you look like shit," Miles replied, chuckling himself. I laughed as well. It felt good to let some of the anxiety go.
"Yeah, so do you two," Waylon replied as the three of us collapsed into each other, laughing hysterically. We sounded crazy, but at the moment none of us could help it. I wasn't even sure why the three of us found this so funny. I couldn't deny that it felt good for us to be laughing. Once we had all calmed down, we walked into a cell nearby. However, this cell had a hole in the floor, with a trail of blood leading into it. We all exchanged a glance.
"Guess this is where we go next," I said.
"Guess so," Miles replied, and the three of us descended down into the darkness.