The Cell Pt 2 The heavy steel door twisted on its hinges as it bashed against the corresponding wall. The door had been opened this way many times before as the indentation that scarred the wall was a perfect fit for the similarly worn door handle. A detail missed from his previous surveillance of the room. The light from outside only briefly filled his eyes before a large shape eclipsed the doorway. "So, we meet again, although this time in terrifically different circumstances I must say." The last of the captain's words echoed around the room and were not followed by any response. The captain smirked for the briefest of moments and then regained a look that resembled sympathy. "You're obviously tired. Froy?" "Sir?" A smaller shadow appeared behind the captain. "Get him some food and water straight away." The captain kept his back to the night guardsman. "Yes sir," the sound of clinking armour faded away down the corridor as the guard followed his orders. The captain kept his eyes firmly on him as he strode forward and took the chair opposite. "Finally, we are alone." he caught the captains wide grin and knew exactly where this conversation was heading. At least he thought he did. The captain leaned in hurriedly, "I don't have much time, do you have the plans brother?" he whispered. His heart raced at hearing the subtle change in the voice and he immediately met the captain's gaze. The man in front of him was the infamous Captain Seegray Gordison just as he had suspected, but the tension in the room had swayed suddenly into the unknown by one word. Brother. For a moment he forgot about his plan to escape, any sense of clarity he had was diminished like wind to a candle flame. He reached out slowly under the table and wrapped the loose chain around his right hand, ready to flail the captain with the attached clump of stone in case it was some sort of test or trick by the captain. When he spoke his voice scratched at his throat, making him strangely unfamiliar with the sound that followed. "Seb?" "It is me brother." "How can I be sure?" he mumbled, feeling the sweat cascade down his forehead and sting his eyes. "Our Mother died when you were ten and I was eight, our Father became violent and used to beat us in our chambers, we used to sleep together some nights, holding hands for comfort. We called it our safe place. We were sent to the Academy when-" he stopped his rant and pricked his ears. "Froy. With your food. Dammit, he was quicker than expected." He put his finger to his lips and cleared his throat. "Where is it you filthy dog?!" he screamed smashing his fists on the table, almost knocking him out of his shackles. Froy came trouncing in, holding a dirty wooden tray with a large wedge of hard-bread and a bowl of water on. "Thank you Froy, could you please go to my office and search for a name in my files?" The guard have a hesitant glance at the shackled man and the captain. "of course sir." "The name is Felvar Valadin." Once you find the file, make sure you take it the investigations department. "Yes sir," and the armour rattled back down the corridor. The captain kept his eyes facing the doorway until he was sure it was ok to talk. "Do you believe me brother?" he said, this time not whispering. It took a long time for him to answer. "Yes, I believe you. No one could know some of the information you have told me." The captain grinned again, looking relieved. "So brother. The plans." He honestly didn't know what the captain was talking about. "Seb, I don't know what you mean." he said defeatedly. "Nonsense brother, how could you forget your markings? The trouble you went to to have them etched on your back for #life." Straight away his back started to throb and he wanted to see what his brother meant. He had no memory of any markings or tattoo. As he looked at Seb, hopelessly dumbstruck by his failure to remember, his brother filled the silence. "We can discuss this once you're safe and I'm out if this hideous disguise." he pinched the pocked face. They looked at each other for a few seconds before he asked Seb, "How did you manage to do all this?" "As I said, we can go over all this once you're out of here, now quick let's get you out of these shackles before Froy gets back." Seb produced a key from his sleeve as he stood and quickly unchained his brother. "Lets get you free and clean. They will be waiting for us." As the shackles unravelled and fell to the floor, he was surprised how fast everything had changed, his brother appearing from no where, the man who was saving his #life. The pain in his right hand suddenly flared up like it was on fire. "Brother?" called Seb. He looked up at him. "Sometime today would be great, let's go!" he said excitedly. He must have been day dreaming. He hurried out of the chair and began to follow Seb out into the unknown. "oh no brother, you first. I want your taste of freedom to be assured, I will guard you from behind. It's left out of here and straight through the red door. Our contact will be waiting. They both left the cell and quickly paced their way towards the huge red door at the end if the corridor. He could smell the sweet fresh air behind the door. Air that only freedom could buy. It was not the searing pain in his back that brought him to a halt, but the metallic taste in his mouth. His lungs depressed like burst balloons and the pain exploded from his back into his chest and neck. He was being stabbed. He should have noticed the blade on the captain's belt, he shouldn't have trusted his heart. As he slowly fell to his knees the captain appeared in front of him, looming like a hungry wolf over its prey. Looking up mystified at the blurred shadow he managed a few words before he collapsed to the cold,damp floor. "I thought you were my brother?" He heard the faint noise of laughter and then a pause. The captain knelt down and put his mouth to the dying man's ear. "Oh dear Adz, you fool. I am your brother."

The Cell The light twitched and flickered as it shook. He sat squarely at a wooden table that had hundreds of names scratched into it, messages of warning and despair. He took no notice. His hands, shackled in ancient chains anchored to the stone floor, had begun to ache again. The deep bang of a door slamming a few rooms down sent the light spinning and twisting once more, flickering randomly. He smirked darkly, 'they'll be here in no time,' he thought. He took in his surroundings carefully; a tiny blacked out window behind him about five foot up, the smears and pools of dried blood on the floor from previous 'visitors', the constant flow of water dripping down the moss covered walls, - the cracked stone around the chain anchorage. How could he have missed it after all this time? He immediately began pulling upwards with all the energy he could muster. His hands roared with the agony but he couldn't stop, 'they'll be here in no time remember?' he reminded himself. Suddenly through the searing pain he felt a crack, he couldn't tell if it was the bones in his hands or the stone finally dislodging but he didn't care, time was running out. Then it happened. He burst backwards out of his chair with ferocity, landing in a heap against the damp stone wall. The clump of rock that came flying attached to the chains was substantial. It was enough to use as a weapon, enough to kill. He scrambled to his feet, picking up the rock and hurried it back into the hole he had created, a perfect fit. Then he wondered how often they checked the shackles. To his memory, once you were chained, they didn't check again until you were moved or killed. Another door slammed and this time it shook the entire room. The light went out completely with a thin veil of smoke and didn't come back on. “All the better to see you with, Captain,” he whispered, a smile appearing slowly across his weathered face. His eyes were fixed on the solid steel door handle when he noticed foot steps fading in, bouncing around his ears. Each step a countdown to a moment he couldn't and didn't want to predict. Then the footsteps stopped. A single bead of sweat trickled down his cheek and sloped into his mouth, the pleasant taste focused his senses and jolted him. He couldn't remember when he last felt alive, but he thought he felt something familiar at that moment. He took a deep breath and slumped back into a defeated position, but now, this glimmer of hope, this ticket out loomed in his mind so strong that he found strength he thought was lost long ago. As his head sank into his chest and his eyes closed, he heard the key snap swiftly in the lock. He took a deep breath. Feeling an icy shiver crawl up his spine his stomach began to fill with butterflies, and slowly, another smile.

The Crime Scene I arrived at Beaumont avenue at around 2am; first on the scene. The rain had just finished its assault and I figured it was ok to remove my hood. It was completely dark except for the low hue of side lamps through net curtains and the dull orange dotting of the street lights. A metal fenced alleyway stood between the apartment buildings, locks broken of course. I pushed my way past a few garbage bins and saw immediately why I was called here. The body. Female, the high heels a big give away, probably early twenties, highlighted under a security light that no one ever took notice of. I snapped out my gloves and flicked the cigarette that had overstayed its welcome between the gap in my teeth. "Time for work" I whispered to myself. This girl was really messed up, several stab wounds to the gut, but her dress was red so it made the blood seem less apparent. Luckily for me I was dressed for the occasion. I hauled her up like some twisted vision of a husband carrying his bride over the thresh hold, but there was no love here, no happiness, no #life. I listened. It was part of the trade to be vigilant, even in an alleyway on a deserted road at 2am. The sound of water running down the drain from a flushed toilet, the faint murmur of a TV that had been left on long after lights out. The coast was never clear, but it was the best it was going to be. The girl was in the van and would be sleeping with the fishes before sunrise. As I drove, the faint sound of sirens gathered about a mile away, I didn't know if they were for me or the girl, either way I'd have lose the van now as well. I had another seven on the list, no names, just destinations. One of my largest contracts in years, it was usually only desperate men who called, pleading with me to help them clean up an 'accident.' Yeah right. But this was different, a professional contract. Maybe this was going to be a challenge, I'd only know for sure once I was further down the list. The sirens grew louder and my foot hovered above the throttle, shaking as I held it in position, resisting the urge to speed. Only ten seconds later and I realised that the sirens were growing weaker, until the only sound I could hear was my own fingers tapping away at the steering wheel. Force of habit. I knew I was far enough away now and as long as I stayed below the speed limit, the girl, the list and the duffel bag full of brand new guns would stay a secret. I put the radio on and heard the faint sound of an electric guitar. Van Halen. I instinctively turned up the volume. 'Onwards and upwards' I thought. No one could stop me tonight, and even if they tried, I couldn't let something as trivial as the police hinder the beautiful progress I was making.