Title: Confinementm Part I: A Descent into Madness
Featuring: Chainz
Date: Post Colossus
Location: Rev 244

Confinement
Part I: A Descent into Madness

He Wakes

Bloodied, bruised, and beaten Michael Sloan stirred in a pile of filth naked like the day he was born. He was back in an unenviable, if all too familiar, position behind a set of bars. As Michael surveyed his surroundings he could feel the hope fading from his body and replaced by suffocating fear. He chuckled; how many times had the roles been reversed?

Hessian had bested him; he’d won.

The physical pain he could take, love even, but not the truth of his failure. There would be no shame in losing to a better man, but Hessian was not such a man. A child occupying the body of a giant had beaten him. That thought alone burned him to his very soul, what little was left.

Michael stood to his full height and grazed the ceiling of his dingy cell. Not exactly the fine establishments he had grown accustomed but at least he had a view. The moon shined through the small bar window of his cell just enough to highlight the various cuts and welts on his body.

How did it come to this?

The images were a blur and out of order, but together they painted a grim picture.

”You think he’s alive?” Asked Angelus Von Kelsig. Christian Daniels washed his hands feverishly as if no amount of water would ever be enough.

Daniels looked back at Michael Sloan’s bloodied corpse, “I just hope I don’t get whatever he had.”

“You don’t catch psycho that way.”

Daniels sighed, “Normally I’d agree with you, but that ain’t your average psycho.”

Michael Sloan coughed and sucked in some blood mixed with enough air to keep him alive.

Angelus sighed, “Some fuckers just refuse to die.”

“Fuck you Von Kelsig!” Michael yelled, “You will never kill me.”

Michael tried to free his hands, but the bindings were too thick and his energy too low. Covered with a sack cloth and confined in the back of a car he could tell he was in the country by the bumps in the road. How many times had he made this trip himself? A dozen, two? Would this be last?

Michael pounded his fists against the cold brick walls; the sound of flesh against brick stirred his memories.

”Mmm such a body,” It was a woman’s voice, one of power and entitlement. “Ah, it is such a pity what they’ve done to it.”

He could feel his hands freed. It was time to strike.

“Ha, look this one’s still got some fight in him. They did say he was a tough bastard. Don’t worry Maria, if what they say is true, you’ll have your fun just yet.”

He would remember that name and the voice that spoke it.

The small window opened up into a courtyard, but he was too high off the ground to notice any landmarks. From the distance he could hear birds singing or fighting, which he couldn’t tell. The fresh smell of salt water was unmistakable however and he knew instantly he was far from New York.

The hands were rough as they pushed him through a narrow corridor lined with jail cells. Inmates with dirty faces looked on as their newest neighbor was introduced to his new home.

“Here you go. Don’t go making a mess, we won’t clean it!”

Michael was thrown down to the ground of his new cell and a small plate of food tossed near his face.

The guards closed the cell door behind them, “Oh and welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay, it’s going to be a long one.”

He wanted to cry, but his well of tears had dried up many years ago. With nothing but rage and hatred inside he stood rocking back and forth trying to come up with a plan, but all he could see was his wife’s teary eyes as she heard his full confession. What a fool he had been and now stuck in a hopeless situation he knew he would never see her pretty face again or feel the warm touch of her lips as he passionately kissed her.

There was but one way out. With an audible sigh he sat down near the metal slab that was his bed. A sharp corner glistened in the moonlight, a comforting welcome to escape his confines. It would be an easy and quick death that a man like him surely did not deserve. He’d killed many, but when it came time to take his own life he hesitated.

The flutter of wings grabbed his attention as a small swallow flew through the bars of his cell. The little bird crashed into one of the walls and crumpled to the ground. It flapped its wings and rose in the air as it sought release back into the night sky. Repeatedly it tried squeezing through the small window, but escape was much more difficult than the entrance had been.

Michael rose to his feet and with a swift hand grabbed the small bird. It flapped and chirped in his hand. In his mind he thought the bird knew its end was near and yet it would not cease. He felt the power of life in his hands and what it felt like to be God again. He also felt shame for the will to live in the little bird was far superior then his own. In a rare moment of compassion Michael thrust his hand through the window and released the bird, watching with renewed vigor as it flapped away.

The thoughts of suicide were quickly replaced of joyous revenge. He too would be free and he would once again hold lives in his hand only next time he would not be so merciful. As warmth returned to his body he laid down on the metal bed and closed his eyes hoping for a dream to take him away.

She Wakes

“Fuck you Michael!”

Tracy yelled at the top of her lungs as she hurled a picture frame against her bedroom wall. The glass crashed and settled on the ground alongside a growing pile of destruction. As she tore her bedroom apart she could think about nothing but his lies. Everything she had known about him, truly known, had been a lie and she felt stupid and betrayed; mostly stupid.

She’d heard the rumors just like everyone else, but chose not to believe them. All the signs were there and yet she chose a blissful ignorance over the truth. Now, as her heart ached and her palms shook from rage she was paying the price.

The large mirror was next to feel her fury and it splintered as she hurled a lamp at it. Through the cracks she could she her only fractured self; half mad from rage and terrified to be on her own. The makeup had long smeared across her pretty face. It was stupid of her to have even bothered with no one to impress.

“How could he do this to me?” She said to herself.

The answer had eluded her for the better part of 24 hours. Hearing her husband’s sordid and graphic confession was slowing beginning to register with her. His ability to conceal his true nature was troubling enough, but her inability to see past his lies was of bigger pain to her.

Tracy knew she would have no answer to calm her questioning mind. Michael was gone and with him all the answers she sought. He was battered and beaten in front of her and then just as the wicked words flowed freely from his lips he was ripped from her never to be seen again. She wondered if he was still alive, but deep down knew that a simple quick death was not meant for a man like him.

All she could do was yell and continue destroying the bedroom as if it provided her some degree of revenge on all the years she’d spent listening to his words. With each object wrecked she tried to close this horrible chapter of her life, but as the wreckage accumulated it just proved to her how ruined she was.

With her arms wearing out she kicked the old mahogany dresser in front of her. Recoiling in pain as the object didn’t budge she had no time to avoid the falling piece of mirror that sliced her slender thigh.

“Fuck!”

The word was meaningless and hollow, but the only one she could find. The wound wasn’t deep, but to her felt like a death sentence. Tears poured from her cheeks more so from the futility of her situation than the pain. That she could deal with, but nothing was going to fix her life. Her world.

In a blur her legs gave out and she crumpled to the ground and thought how easy it would be to remain there until she starved to death. What was the point of continuing on her own in a world where she would constantly be reminded of her husband’s sins?

What little shred of dignity and humility she had left wouldn’t allow herself to die in such a state. She had to at least look presentable for her family’s sake.

Tracy pressed her hand on the wound to stop the free flowing blood. She stood and entered the bathroom where a towel was enough of a bandage for the time being. She quickly realized how crazy she was and how weak she was to think of killing herself. She was lied to, but so were many other women. She had to be strong and persevere.

Tracy walked back into the bedroom and stopped in front of her blood puddle. With the faint blue moon shining through the window something seemed off. The pool had seeped through a crack in the floorboard, but only in a specific section. Using her long nails she pried the hardwood loose and caught sight of a small box hidden underneath. With trembling fingers she pulled up the box and opened it.

The contents included a rolled up map and a set of keys. The map pointed her to a rural location several hours away. It looked like a large piece of land with a multitude of x’s marked in various locations like a treasure map. Curiosity quickly replaced the surprise and self loathing as she could only assume the keys were to a building on the property.

Her fingers shook with the contents, “What are you hiding from me now Michael?”

She was afraid she already knew the answer, but she had to know. All those years of suspecting and not knowing would finally come to an end and the answers she sought were in her hand.

As she drove during the night all she could think of was what she would find? She assumed the worst and was right to do so after his earlier confession. As she stepped on the gas she briefly caught a glimpse of a small bird flying in the path of the car. Tracy shrieked but had no chance to stop as the bird landed on the road. The bump was slight, but enough to tell her she had hit the bird. She could see a small pile in the rearview mirror with a few feathers fluttering about.

Checkmate

The sunlight was a blessing on his moist, dirty skin. With each passing second Michael Sloan could feel renewed life coursing through his veins and with it the thought of sweet revenge.

He had spent the entire night in his cell, naked and shivering, but his mind was already coming up with plans of escape. Now, outside of his cell and in the general population he fully understood what a serious undertaking it would be.

The open courtyard was massive and full with the scum of the earth. Rapists, murderers, and worse filled the open space like rejects of society. The strongest of the lot found themselves under some shade like cockroaches escaping from the light. These men were responsible for heinous acts and Michael Sloan surely belonged among their midst, but unlike them he was only passing through for he had much greater plans for his life.

"And so he lives," Came a friendly voice from below him. Casting his eyes slightly down he noticed a very small standing in front of him with a broad smile on his face. "Always nice to get some new blood in here. This place is full of assholes, maybe you're different."

"I'm worse."

The little man chuckled, he'd heard it all before and from bigger men. He looked Michael Sloan up and down trying to size him up. All he could conclude was this was someone he didn't want to get angry. The tattoo's were unsettling enough, but the cold blue eyes staring a hole through him were worse.

"So what's your name," Michael asked.

"Pepe, but everyone here calls me Sancho."

Michael smirked, "Sancho? Been sleeping with many women have you?"

"It's more of a tease really, someone's clever attempt to make fun of my height and appearance."

Another smirk, "Lack there of."

"Yes how clever."

Michael thought so, "Sounds like a man with a good sense of humor."

"Hardly. And you'll be wise to stay away from him." Pepe pointed to a group of men in a shaded corner. A middle aged man sat in front of a chessboard laughing as he set a checkmate on a terrified prisoner. His hearty laughter carried throughout the courtyard. Michael could see the prisoner begging, but the words escaped him.

Within a matter of seconds the prison was seized by the men surrounded the middle aged man.

"They call him El Padre, The Father, and he's the worst-" The group of men threw the scared prison into the middle of the courtyard where everyone could see. "You should probably watch this."

El Padre slowly walked into the middle of the courtyard and stood on the chest of the prisoner.

"Have I not been fair to you all?" He asked with his arms open. "Do I not provide food and water as promised?"

He stomped down on the chest of the inmate, "So why do you still feel the need to steal from me?"

Ah, the man in power. Every prison had one and El Padre played that role nicely. Michael stood and watched the presentation, obviously an attempt to frighten the onlookers into submission. They would all follow this man like sheep in a herd. Pathetic.

"Let this be a lesson to you all."

And with that his dogs seized upon the frightened man. he tried to shield his head from the oncoming blows, but it was only a matter of seconds before their cruel boots found his head. Kick after kick found it's mark as the prisoner stopped fighting. Blood seeped the dirt and his head rolled back and forth with each thrust. Michael could see the life drain from his eyes as his grimace of pain turned to a smile of release. An escape, but not the one Michael Sloan was looking for.

Pepe looked down at the ground and shook his head, "That's not the first time this has happened-"

He trailed off as El Padre's crew made their way over to Michael Sloan. A large man, an enforcer, walked ahead of the group and right in front of Michael Sloan. Most men would regret that decision, he would be no different.

"El Padre would like to have a word with you."

Michael smiled a bit as he looked over to where El Padre was sitting. The man was looking on with curiosity. He'd seen many new prisoners walk through the courtyard for the first time, but none that looked so relaxed and at home. It was a bit unnerving, even for the hard man.

The enforcer spoke again, "The man doesn't like to wait."

"Well if that's the case lets go pay him a visit."

Michael followed the group to the shaded corner of the courtyard. As he walked he observed his surroundings. The walls were a good thirty feet up, much too far to climb. There were several patrols in convenient locations that allowed an entire view of the courtyard. The way they held their guns it was obvious there would be no warning shots. However, the guards were above the convicts with none visible inside the courtyard. They were freed into the confines like wild animals where only the strong would survive.

El Padre motioned for Michael to take a seat opposite him and the chessboard, "Thank you Reyes, I assume our new guest wasn't much trouble."

Reyes shook his head and stood at attention. El Padre took Michael Sloan in from head to toe. He was in a position of power, but even he knew when a potential problem was at hand and Michael Sloan was a problem.

"You a playing man Mr.-" He trailed off imploring Michael to jump in.

"People refer to me as Chainz."

El Padre smiled, "I didn't ask what most people called you. I asked your name."

"I only give my name to dying men."

Reyes took a step forward as El Padre looked at Michael curiously. He couldn't quite put his finger on the man; did he have a death wish or was something else rolling in his head. El Padre smiled and burst out laughing, "Ah it's nice to meet someone with a sense of humor."

"Yeah, that's me, Mr. Hilarious."

"Well back to my earlier question, you a playing man?"

"I've dabbled."

El Padre moved his white pawn forward, "Then let's play while I let you know how things run around here."

Michael countered by getting his knight out onto the board, "I'm not much for rules."

"Neither am I, but without them this place would be a zoo. I arrived it was nothing but packs of wild animals banding together to fight over scraps of food thrown to us by the guards. I brought this place some sense of civility, of normalcy, law and order if you will."

"And you're the law and order."

El Padre took one of Michael's pawns with his knight, "Why yes I am. Who else would it be? I've taken these poor bastards in like all of my children and raised them to be upstanding citizens. Just because we are inmates doesn't mean we have to be savages. That little demonstration you saw earlier was unfortunate, but actions without consequences would lead to chaos and nobody wants that."

There was at least one person in the prison who wouldn't have minded and he responded by trading a bishop for a knight. El Padre continued, "You see that man stole from me. Everyone gets a fair share of food and water around here. He thought he deserved more than the rest and stole from me. I am a fair man and while he was guilty I gave him a chance to be pardoned. It is not my fault the man has never played chess before. It makes sense I suppose since chess is a game of civilized men and I can see you've played before."

"Like I said," He took El Padre's rook, "I've dabbled."

"Oh come now Mr. Chainz, don't be so modest. I know a pro when I see one."

Michael smiled as he took the remaining rook from the board, "Well like you said it is a civilized game."

El Padre frowned, losing was not something he was interested in, "That's good and all, but I just want you to remember one thing. This is my house and you are a visitor here, long term as it may be. Make yourself at home, but don't overstep your stay. There are rules to follow and I expect you to obey them. I'm not one for threats you see. I simply point out the obvious. You cross me and you'll be in a very uncomfortable situation. I think my earlier demonstration was proof enough. Check."

Michael moved his pawn to intersect the check, "I think I can manage just fine. There's no need for us to be at odds. Things would become very uncomfortable as you say and where's the civility in that. Check mate."

El Padre looked stunned as he scanned the board. He had been beaten. Michael Sloan stood, "Fun game, maybe I should take it up myself from now on."

"Yes you should," He said frowning as Michael began to walk away, "Oh just one more thing."

There was always one more thing.

"Food and water is something of value here which has to be earned. We have no charity cases and with so many prisoners there is only enough food for so many. Another gentlemen was admitted last night and frankly this courtyard isn't big enough for the both of you if you understand me. Rest up Mr. Chainz as in an hour one of you will leave this place. Permanently."

Michael frowned, "Just make sure you keep my water cool."

As he walked away he nursed his injured shoulder. A fight wasn't a problem, but his body was hardly healed and a fight to the death was the farthest thing on his mind. Fucking rules.

What Lies Beneath

Tracy yawned as she finally pulled off the main road. The drive had been long and taken her out New York City to a rural part of the state. She would have been lost without her GPS, but was finally driving down a long and narrow dirt road. The trees became thicker and fuller as she drove deeper into a wooded location. The limbs began reaching out to drag her into their midst. As she contemplated turning around she finally entered a large clearing. Directly in front of her stood a wooden cabin.

Tracy parked the car and exited to stretch her tired legs. Unlike the city she could hear the creatures of the night and actually see the stars in the sky. She'd forgotten how pretty the night could be.

Scanning the location revealed very little; there was a small lake behind the cabin not much larger than a pond. The clearing was surrounded by trees on every side and would be impossible to find without proper directions. Complete isolation. Beautiful and terrifying.

The map revealed that she had indeed reached her intended destination. Tracy tried to search for some of the x's marked on the map, but even with the bright moon it was impossible. As she made her way through the woods the trees became thicker and blocked out the faint, blue light. An animal yelled out a blood curling groan in the distance as it became someone's prey and that was enough adventure for the frightened woman.

Stepping back into the clearing she took the keys from her jeans pocket. They matched the lock perfectly. Cautiously, she pushed open the door and searched for a light switch. No luck. The open windows allowed enough light into the cabin to get a decent outline of the area. The cabin was cozy and sparsely furnished.

Planning ahead she pulled out a flashlight to get a better view. The living area consisted of a large fabric sofa across from a very expensive looking entertainment center complete with plasma television and surround sound. If not for the expensive electronics she would've imagined a vagrant occupying the location.

The kitchen consisted of a small coffee table, two chairs, an old refrigerator, and a few utensils on the counters.

Thump

"The fuck?" She said aloud as she looked around. She couldn't hear anything as she stood still and listened. The area had gone quiet, even the birds outside. A cold sweat covered her forehead as she cautiously crept through the small cabin looking for any signs of life.

Thump

This time she knew she'd heard something. She turned in the direction of the noise and caught the glistening of a small lock on a metal door.

Tracy slowly backed away from the unnatural door and back into the kitchen. She searched the counters for something to defend herself against whatever was making the noise. Duct tape was useless and she cast it aside and finally settled on one of the knives in the surprisingly nice set. With a knife nearly as large as her hand she crept towards the door careful to stay as quiet as possible.

The key slowly turned and unlocked the door. Tracy cast aside every intention in her body telling her to stop and opened the door. She was greeted with a dark set of stairs leading down to a basement. Standing and listening she was met with silence. She sighed and lowered her flashlight.

Just enough time for the wide eyed crazed woman to pounce on her.

To Be Continued
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