Page 106 of Babalon

“He’s here… somewhere, but you better look quickly, Nadia. Anything can happen.” He says tilting his head side to side like some sort of amused clown.

I watch him closely, his movements twitching and awkward but he seems calm. He stares down at me, following me as I walk back up to him. The steps that lead out of the pit and back up to the solitary entrance, scream for me to race up them. My heart begins to pound against the back of my ribs as I look this devil in the eye. Like walking past a hungry beast, I squeeze by him, thinking he will bite but he doesn’t.

The back of my boots hit the bottom stair and I whirl around, bolting up the slick rock, missing a step closer to the top where I scramble to catch my balance. Flying through the concealed door, I rush through the open wall and out of the metal door that leads to solitary.

I race down the hallway and look around, noting the scarcity of guards and inmates alike. It feels like I am living in a horror movie. When you need someone, no one is around to help. Skidding up to an alarm pad, I break it with the butt of my flashlight and yank it down.

Sending the prison into emergency lockdown.

The halls go red, flashing lights blinding me off and on, sirens screeching in time with the oscillation of red and white. I can see the prison's perimeter lights focus on the outside of the windows, lighting the whole campus up like Fort Knox.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Nadia.”

I jump at Lucien’s voice next to my left ear, whipping around, not seeing him anywhere near me. Only an empty space and the lingering aura of death.

“You set something into motion that you will not survive, stupid girl.”

Hearing him again, I spin the opposite direction to see more of nothing.

Where the fuck is he coming from?

That’s when I realize my headset is in my left ear. Fuck me, he has a guard’s radio where he can hear everything and stay ahead of the game. Taking off in a sprint down the hallway, I move over to C Block and head for the guard station. The new officers inside look up from their gear preparation, unsure what to make of the sudden lights and sirens. Stepping inside, I pull the door closed and lean over to look over the computer.

“Officer Pierce? What is going on?”

“Missing inmate. Don’t worry about it.”

On cue, my stomach drops when every lock disengages on the monitor. The mouse flits across the display and clicks various buttons before it blue screens. My heart sinks at how fast everything is changing. Grabbing the keyboard, I slam it against the computer screen, breaking the flimsy plastic until square keys fly across the small room. Anger is not the word I would use for this shit, we are fucked, and it only seems to be getting worse by the second.

Looking up, we all peer out of the thick plexiglass window into the waiting eyes of the very inmates that we watch over day in and day out. An unwelcome chill races down my back, dread settling in the pit of my stomach at the notion that we may not make it out of here. The inmates stare at us, their dark-heartless glares calculating our every move.

Waiting.

Watching.

Hungry.

Their chests rise and fall, shoulders rolling along with a few tilts of their heads. If it was not for the glass between us and them, everything would be over in the matter of minutes. One inmate slowly moves to the front of the whole pack, leaning in uncomfortably close to the glass. His hot breath fogging up the clear barrier as they stare at the other officers and I like food.

This is bad, so very fucking bad.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Get your riot gear on, hurry.” I advise the new officers. Unsure if it is going to help but I know any hope is better than none.

To the right, I see Pyro beginning to grin, which is never a good thing. I follow his movement as he walks over to the door and with a single finger, he pulls it open. I know the damn thing latched when I shut it, that only means someone unlocked it from a different computer. My heart thunders while the critical seconds tick by, exposing my new officers to a violence they have no clue how to handle.

If there is anything I remember from training is that you’re never prepared, no matter how much you train. Your logic kicks in or you die.

Even in their riot gear, the new guards can’t keep the inmates off them. They pluck the officers out of the box like toys in a coin operated claw machine. One right after the other, all three disappearing into the sea of red and white lights. I can hear them screaming, as I watch out of the window. Other inmates join me and forcefully wrench me around. Slamming me back against the desk and crowding my space.

“What a damn shame, Officer Pierce. Losing your little team before the big bad wolves could get in here and get you.”

That’s inmate Tonken, he’s here for multiple counts of the production and distribution of snuff films—from movie stars, to normal everyday people, men, women, and children. It didn’t matter; he posted it all over the black web for predators to find.

“A shame for her, maybe, but it’s going to be one hell of a treat for us.”

Inmate O’Brien— conspiracy to commit espionage that led to the shootings of United States congress men and a standoff in Washington, Virginia following a Department of Defense gathering at the Pentagon.

The last one to enter the guard station with me is the one I am the most afraid of. Huge guy, quiet, with hands I have watched choke the life out of men just as big as he is. Seven feet tall, three hundred and forty pounds of pure unadulterated hatred. When he takes a step back, and looks out the open door, his head turns to the side, and I see all that I need to.

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