1 I was an inmate in an unnamed prison for two years, something else was locked in there with us [Part 1]

Back in the day, I used to be a piece of shit. The biggest scumbag you could meet, wasting the best years of my life on petty crimes and drugs as part of a gang. While everyone else found decent work, married, and started families, I started fights in bars while blackout drunk. It was only a matter of time before I fucked up big time and faced serious charges, landing me twenty years to life behind bars.

To the best of my knowledge, my case didn't make the news. Too many crazy things happened around the world at the time, so a small fry like myself didn't make the cut. Even so, I'll err on the side of caution and keep the details to myself. What I did is not important, what matters for my story are the consequences I faced. I was arrested, tried, and found guilty. But the trial was fair, I won't lie to you or to myself.

I didn't have money, I was already dead to my relatives, so no one came to even see me, let alone help me. When my sentencing came, I was to be transferred to a maximum security prison. I expected a cop car when they dragged me out of the temporary cell and into the yard, but a black armored jeep waited for me instead.

"What's going on?" I asked as they led me to it in handcuffs. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?!"

My questions fell on deaf ears. The deputies handed me off to the mysterious men, two muscular gorillas in sharp suits with dark sunglasses covering their eyes. As they forced me into the jeep's back, every worst case scenario under the sun ran through my mind. Would I become part of some secret government experiment? Would they erase me from existence, another poor fool lost in the bureaucratic shuffle? Would I see the light of day ever again?

I couldn't tell, and the two men wouldn't say. For the whole ten hour drive, they didn't speak a single word to me or to each other. I couldn't see anything through the tinted windows, so I had no idea where they were even taking me. But truth be told, I was fighting some nasty withdrawals so I couldn't focus much on it either.

When we finally arrived at our destination and the ride stopped, one of them pulled me forcefully out of the jeep. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the buildings we faced weren't it. Grey, naked concrete, bars for windows, a tall protective concrete fence with guard towers. More or less a normal prison, not some top secret facility. The two men led me inside through the gates and handed me to the guards, then they turned around and left.

"What's going on?" I asked. "Where am I? What will happen to me?"

The guard sighed, getting behind me and pushing me to move.

"You know what curiosity did to the cat?" He answered my question with one of his own. I just nodded my head. "Good, now stop asking questions."

He took me inside a small building to be processed, which meant ditching my standard jumpsuit for one of their own. A simple dark gray thing, though it was quite thick for a prison in the middle of the desert. The guard pulled out a pistol and motioned with the barrel towards me.

"Don't try any funny stuff," he warned.

I nodded my head, so he unlocked the cuffs. He didn't make me shower before changing, and he sure as shit didn't offer me any privacy. I had to get buck naked in front of him as he watched me like an eagle. But soon enough I was dressed in the grey jumpsuit, so the guard put the handcuffs back around my wrists and took me away once more.

Out in the prison yard, I saw the other inmates loitering about. Most of them wore dark gray jumpsuits similar to my own, but some wore a bright neon orange that made them stand out like sore thumbs in the crowd.

'At least we're allowed to get some fresh air,' I thought.

"That over there is block A," the guard said, pointing to the closest building. It was the tallest among the bunch, but other than that they were pretty much identical. "That's where you're going. That over there is block B," he continued, pointing to the next building in line. "And that one in the back is block C. Pray to God and try your damn best not to get sent there."

I wanted to ask why, but I held back the question as the earlier warning rang through my mind. The guard noticed, or at least I think he did, seeing as he gave me a wide grin after a few moments of silence. I was led into block A, through a set of heavy metal doors that led into the ground floor. Inside, the building looked strange, not at all what I expected from a modern prison. The space was open, with metal stairs and catwalks criss-crossing every which way and cells lining the walls. I could see the roof of the building clearly, there was nothing separating the floors.

At any rate, up one of those flights of stairs we went. From the ground floor to the first floor, then the second, and finally to the third and last. As we ascended, I couldn't help but notice the strange design of said stairs. They shifted around beneath our steps, they had heavy hinges on the upper parts, and they even had motors where they connected to the catwalks. I didn't know what to make of it.

"Here you are," the guard said as he stopped in front of a cell. "Home sweet home."

He uncuffed me again, this time for good, and gave me a pat on the back before he left. I didn't know what to do, so I stood there frozen for a long moment, watching the guard disappear down the stairs. A man was already in the cell, lounging on one of the bunk beds with the door wide open. He shot me a quick glance, and let out a sigh when he saw I wouldn't talk.

"Hey, new guy," he called out. "You can come in, I won't bite."

"What the hell is this place?" I asked, stepping into the cell.

"First things first, introductions," he cut me off. "Name's Andre."

"Jack."

"Nice to meet you, Jack," Andre answered. "That over there is your bed. The one below yours is Christopher's, and the one above mine is Mason's."

I looked to the bunk beds as Andre lazily pointed towards them, finally noticing there were four of them. Would I really share a cell with three other people?

"They're outside right now, but they should be back soon," Andre continued.

"You didn't answer me."

"Did Liam not give you the breakdown?"

"Who's Liam?" I asked.

"The guard that brought you here," Andre clarified. "But that's not important. Did he not warn you?"

"Curiosity killed the cat?"

Andre nodded his head.

"Yup. You better keep your mouth shut, Jacky boy. You never know who will hear you asking one too many questions."

"Whatever," I said, waving a hand through the air to dismiss Andre's bullshit.

I was tempted to go outside a bit as well, but I didn't. Instead I laid down, feeling dizzy as a buzzing spread between my thoughts. My whole body ached and I felt exhausted to high hell and back. The withdrawals were kicking my ass, and I knew they'd only get worse for a while. I tried to sleep a bit, but I was too restless for that, fidgeting with my hands in a vain attempt to distract myself.

A while later, as the sun was setting, two more men came to the cell. The sounds of their footsteps and chatter made me turn in the bed to look, though I did so sluggishly as I felt my mind sloshing in my head. The first one entered absent-mindedly, but the second one pulled the door shut and locked it from the inside with a key.

"Oh, hello there," the first one said, approaching the bunk below my own. "Name's Christopher, but you can call me Chris."

The other one stashed the key away in a pocket and went to his own bunk above Andre's.

"Mason," he said with obvious disinterest.

"Jack," I introduced myself.

"Nice to meet you, Jack," Chris said with a wide smile.

I grunted and rubbed my temples, feeling like the top of my head was about to blow off. Chris noticed, so he leaned closer.

"Withdrawals?"

"Uh-huh."

"Alcohol? Nicotine? Opioids?" He kept pestering me with questions.

"All of the above, and then some," I admitted.

"Ouch, you're in for a shitty time," he stated the obvious.

I could see he was getting ready to ask something else, but he didn't get to. Andre stopped him.

"Let the man rest, for fuck's sake."

"Fine, fine," Chris said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. "Try and get some sleep, I'll wake you up when they serve dinner."

They mostly kept silent after that, and Chris did keep his word. A short eternity later, he let me know they were going downstairs to eat. I didn't manage to catch any shuteye, and I didn't feel particularly hungry, so I didn't join them. They left me alone in the cell, door unlocked and swung wide open. I heard the commotion of everyone gathering up, walking around and talking, but I did my best to shut it all out.

When they returned about an hour later, Chris handed me a bowl of something.

"Eat," he said before he got into his own bed. "You'll need your strength, it won't get easier for a while."

I appreciated the gesture, but I couldn't hold the food down. I ate a few spoonfuls, but my stomach churned and brought it back up my throat. Mason locked the door again and they went to sleep, but I spent the night covered in cold sweat as I squirmed around in the uncomfortable bed.

That's how I spent the beginning of my incarceration, about two weeks or so. Chris kept bringing me food and water, doing his best to take care of me. I wasn't afraid for my life, withdrawals are rarely lethal, but truth be told there were points when I would've preferred death. I didn't have a choice though, so I powered through it until the symptoms started dying down. About three weeks later, I finally got my first night of proper sleep.

"How you feelin'?" Chris asked me when he woke me up for breakfast.

"A bit better."

"Will you join us today or do I have to bring you food again?"

"I'll join," I said, getting up from the bed on wobbly legs.

Andre and Mason were already gone, so Chris and I left as well. He kept next to me, ready to catch me in case I collapsed. I wasn't used to such kindness, and for it to come from a complete stranger left me even more perplexed. I didn't really know how to feel about it or how to act.

"Thanks," I mumbled as we started down the first flight of stairs. Chris shot me a confused look. "For taking care of me."

"Oh, that," he answered. "We gotta look out for each other here, no one else is gonna do it."

Now that he mentioned it, I hadn't seen a single guard since I arrived. I wasn't sure how prisons worked, but I expected the guards to at least check up on us semi-regularly. But looking down at the crowd gathering on the ground floor, all I saw were gray jumpsuits. Prisoners forming a long, winding line in front of a window, with no personnel in sight.

"This place is weird," I told Chris.

"You have no idea, man."

We got in line as well when we reached the ground floor, slowly advancing towards the window. A burly man was behind it, with trays of food at the ready. The prisoners took one each before leaving, though I couldn't see any tables around to sit down at. They either went back to their cells or outside, leaving me surprised that the front door was unlocked. What kind of security did this place have?

Looking around as I waited my turn, I noticed that the people on the ground floor weren't free to wander around like us. Their cell doors were different, with thicker bars and electronic locks. Some of them paced back and forth in their cells, some were sleeping, and others yet cowered in the far corners of their cells like they were afraid of something. But they all had one thing in common: a crazed expression in their bloodshot eyes.

Distracted by them, I didn't notice someone cutting the line. Not until another man, the biggest one in sight, tried to stop him. I tensed up, expecting shit to hit the fan and a riot to start at any moment. But everyone else backed away from the two as they raised their voices, until they were screaming in each other's faces.

I wanted to back off as well, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"Watch and learn," Chris whispered by my side.

It didn't take the two men very long to start trading blows. The first punch was thrown, but the bigger guy just took it and went down like a sack of bricks. He could've easily dodged it and hit back, but for whatever reason, he chose not to.

"What…" I started asking, but the sounds of alarms blaring in the building stopped me.

Everyone scrammed while I reached for my ears. The main doors flung open, and six guards armed to the teeth rushed in. They yelled for everyone to get to the ground with their hands behind their backs, and we obeyed. I jumped on my belly with my hands behind my head, and Chris did the same, landing so close to me that I could feel his breath on my cheek.

Four of the guards took positions by the main entrance, rifles trained on us. The other two advanced into the building, heading straight for the man that started the fight. He froze as they approached, so one of the guards slammed the butt of his rifle into the man's face.

"I said get to the ground!" The guard repeated.

The man fell down on all fours, spitting out blood as he screamed profanities. The two guards assaulted him, hitting him with their rifles again and again until they knocked him unconscious. Then they cuffed the man's hands behind his back and took him away, not saying a word to the rest of us.

"He's going straight to block C after a stunt like that," Chris whispered when the guards were far enough away to not hear. "This is why we have so much freedom and why we follow the rules. If we don't, they show no mercy."

"Why not tell me sooner?" I asked.

"You never know when a rat is nearby," Chris answered. "Now shush before someone notices we're talking."

The man was dragged out. Everyone waited for a few minutes, then they got up and back into line like nothing happened. I followed suit and got breakfast as well, wondering the whole time about what the hell just went down. But I couldn't afford asking, not when those were the consequences.

"Let's go outside and find Andre," Chris proposed.

"What about Mason?" I asked.

Chris looked around for a moment before he answered in a hushed tone.

"Word of advice, be careful around him. I think he's a rat too."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what these rats were. Plants by the guards, to keep an eye on us and report back to them. It explained why Chris was so cautious. I still wanted to look for answers, to understand my predicament better, but it had to wait.

Outside in the yard, we found Andre and Mason eating at one of the tables, with the sun beating down on them. It was still morning, but the air was already scorching hot. We sat with them and ate in silence, as no one dared ask about what went down. Why was this place so severe? What did they have to hide, and how bad was it that they tried to control the spread of information even among us inmates?

"I never got to ask, why are you in here?" Andre spoke up when the silence became too much to bear.

I told them, but once again, I'll leave out the details in my retelling. Suffice it to say though that they were all shocked and surprised. When I was done, I asked them to share their stories as well.

"DUI, ended up running a red light and t-boning a family van. Killed the father and his two young kids, and the mother ended up in a wheelchair for life," Chris said in a quiet tone. "I…I deserve every moment in here. Every bad thing coming my way."

That was depressing. I didn't want to think about how he felt, I couldn't even begin to imagine it. I hurt a lot of people so I wasn't innocent by any means, but at least the ones I hurt weren't innocent either. They were assholes like myself that had it coming.

"My turn," Andre said in a serious tone. He pushed his tray away and leaned on the table with his elbows. "I was married for 15 years, had two beautiful kids and a loving wife. Or so I thought. One day, I get a message from a stranger, with a short video attached. Her sucking him off and him saying sorry bro."

"And let me guess, you killed her."

"Killed them both," Andre answered without a hint of regret. "I hunted him down, cut off his dick, and let him bleed out. Then I shoved it down her throat and made her choke on it."

"Fucking hell, man," I said, getting scared by him at that point.

"Didn't hurt anyone else," he kept talking. "After that, I drove down to the police station and turned myself in."

He seemed proud of his achievement, a bit too proud. We were birds of a feather, I could tell, so under different circumstances I'd have loved to cut him down a peg. But I couldn't risk it.

"What about your kids?" I asked instead.

That wiped his grin off his face.

"Dunno," he answered. "They're still young, so they probably don't know the whole story. Just whatever my in-laws decided to share. But they can hate me for all I care."

With that remorseless remark that made everyone uncomfortable, our attention moved from Andre and onto Mason.

"What about you?" I asked him.

"What about me?"

"What did you do to land you in here?"

Mason dropped his spoon into his bowl and mumbled something under his breath.

"Does it matter?" He said after a moment. "I'm in here now."

"Boo," Chris let out.

"You're a bad sport," Andre completed.

But Mason didn't budge. No matter how much we pestered him, he wouldn't say what he did. I could understand his reluctance though, some crimes are heinous enough to earn you the wrath of even the worst criminals. In here though, I couldn't see it becoming a problem. This place was too strict for anyone to risk it, all of the prisoners were on their damn best behavior.

Anyways, that's how we lived for a while. The days kept passing, turning into weeks, and I slowly gained an understanding of how the prison worked. Though I still didn't understand all of the pieces, I at least had them. For starters, we were allowed full freedom at all times. We'd only see the guards if someone acted stupid, otherwise they stayed up in these guard towers lining the fence. We were served three meals a day, and it fell on us to bring food to the people on the ground floor. They were the only ones that weren't allowed out of their cells.

Me and Chris usually did that most days, with some help from other inmates now and again. I didn't really care about them, don't get me wrong. I'm no saint. I just liked spending time with Chris, he was the least scary and most agreeable person in there.

What else? We could shower whenever as well, and we had clean jumpsuits at our disposal. No one took more than their fair share of anything, we all knew better. On the rare occasions when we'd get new arrivals that didn't know how the prison worked, they found out real fast and provided us a reminder as well. One guy tried to take food from another guy, and the guards stepped in real fast. He didn't get violent though, so he didn't get sent to block C. Instead he was locked on the ground floor.

Most of that I could understand to some degree, but the one thing that baffled me was why we were allowed to keep the keys to our cells. Mason and Andre had the two copies to ours, but it didn't take me long to notice every other group had keys to their cells as well. Except for the guys on the ground floor, of course. Every evening when we'd go in for the night, Mason would lock the cell from the inside, and he'd unlock it in the morning.

Speaking of Mason, I couldn't get a read on the guy. Chris I befriended fast, and I was on good terms with Andre as well, no point in lying. But Mason kept to himself like his life depended on it. I could see why Chris suspected him to be a rat, but to me he came off as antisocial more than anything.

Anyways. I was there for about two months when I finally started getting some answers. It began like any other evening, with us returning to the cell for the night. We got in our beds as Mason locked the door, and we killed time with chatter and banter. As the sun set and the world outside was plunged into darkness, the power went out in the prison. The lone lightbulb in the cell was snuffed out and I heard the others complaining right away.

"Just great," Mason said. I heard him fumbling in his bed, but I couldn't see what he was up to.

"Well, we're long overdue for a blackout event," Andre said drily.

I rolled to the edge of my own bed and leaned down closer to Chris.

"What's going on?" I asked, keeping my voice to a whisper.

"I could explain," he answered, "but you won't believe me. You'll have to see for yourself."

In the next moment, a light came on in the building. A single red light on the ceiling, spinning around to illuminate the cells one by one. When it passed by ours, I took a moment to look at Andre and Mason. Both of them had their backs turned to us, facing the wall with their pillows held tight around their ears.

"Everyone to your stations!" The guards yelled outside.

I jumped down from the bed and walked to the window to get a better look. Normally, every other guard tower had one guard in it to make sure we didn't approach the fence. Now, every tower had at least two guards, rifles shouldered and aimed at the courtyard below. I heard faint rumbling, but I couldn't spot the source. It came from the other side of the prison, from block C to be more precise. The rumbling picked up volume over the course of a few minutes as I waited in anticipation, sounding more and more like someone pounding on metal.

Pound. Screech. Pound. Screech. On and on, with only short pauses. I wondered who that was, and how they didn't break an arm yet.

"What's going on?" I repeated my question.

But Chris didn't hear me. Turning away from the window, I found him with his pillow around his ears as well, babbling nonsense to drown out the outside world. Andre and Mason joined him as well, all three of them making random noises. I should've done the same, I knew as much, but curiosity ate me up inside. Whatever was about to go down, I had to see it.

So I turned back to the window and kept watching. In the few moments I had my back to it, a thick mist started spreading outside. It pooled in the yard, swaying and forming whirlpools as it advanced. When it hit the perimeter fence, it started spreading upwards as well. In no time at all, it was high enough to reach up to the first floor.

"Shoot anything that tries to climb!" One of the guards yelled.

His choice of words baffled me. Anything? I could understand anyone, with the power out and covered by this mist people were bound to try to break out. But anything? What was that supposed to mean? Unluckily for me, I was about to find out. The rumbling continued, and it got so loud at one point that it sounded like a war drum. Then I heard a loud crash, and the frantic scurrying of feet invading the courtyard.

I looked at the mist as the scurrying got below the window, but I couldn't spot anything. Whoever or whatever made those sounds was masked completely. They circled the building, more and more of them joining the unseen chaos, then I heard the same pounding on our main door. But it didn't last for long, a couple of hits and the thing swung wide open. The motors below the stairs came to life, and I heard the hinges crying out under the stress as the scurrying entered the building.

I rushed to the cell door, but I couldn't see much from there. The walkway blocked most of my view. What little I could make out on the ground floor was blocked as well, the mist invaded the building the moment the main doors were opened. I could only hear the carnage, but it was more than enough. When the stairs were fully lifted, cutting access to the upper floors, the locks of the ground floor cells beeped a few times. The electronic doors swung open on their own, exposing the prisoners to whatever hellish beings invaded our not so save haven.

I heard the desperate screams. The sounds of battle. Of bodies being swung around, hitting the walls and floors as their bones broke like twigs. Behind me, the others chanted louder, but their efforts were drowned out. I wanted to retreat from the door, to avoid attracting attention, but I was frozen with my hands around the bars. This place was more fucked up than I ever could've imagined.

Gunshots erupted from outside, and that finally broke me free of the spell. I rushed away from the cell and to the window again, trying to see what we were up against, but I was too late. All that I found was a trail of blood on the perimeter wall just below one of the guard towers, and a whimpering sound retreating towards block C through the mist.

The event didn't last for much longer after that, a few minutes at most. But they were the most terrifying minutes of my life, and I understood then why the others reacted the way they did. The screams from downstairs died down one by one, until all that was left was whimpering and agonized groans. The sounds of bodies being dragged away by the same scurrying feet followed. Some of them were still alive, pleading and crying for their lives, but most of them didn't make a peep.

Then silence fell. It was over. The scurrying was gone, and the mist retreated as well little by little. Chris was the first to pull his head out of his pillow, with reddened eyes and a frantic expression on his face.

"Is…is it over?" He asked tentatively.

I was slumped in one of the cell's corners, head between my knees.

"I think so," I answered with hesitation. "What the hell, man?"

Mason somehow snored away, we heard as much when every other sound from outside died down. Andre was still awake though.

"Get some shuteye," he told me, trying to look cool and collected but failing miserably. "We'll have a hell of a lot of work to do in the morning."