231 First Glimpse at Darkness

We slowly walked down the hallway, and our footsteps were muffled by the insane giggling and laughter that the "patients" in the prison cells let out. I looked over to my right when we came across the first prison cell, and immediately, my eyes widened in shock. A hideously mutilated creature about a meter in height with short and skinny limbs was leaning against the concrete wall with its head buried in its twig-like arms, laughing in a creepy and insane manner. After laughing, the creature and pound against the concrete wall with its frail knuckles repeatedly and without any purpose. But yet, it continued in an insane manner.

I glanced over to my left to see what horrors awaited me there. In that cell was another humanoid creature, but this one seemed to be shorter than a meter in total height. It had short limbs and a small torso, but what's really disturbing was the size of its head. Its head was the same size as the entire torso with a deformed forehead and large eye sockets that could hardly contain the abnormally large bloodshot eyeballs that seemed to be almost popping out of the sockets as they trembled.

For the entirety of the hallway on either sides were prison cells containing these "patients". All of them were deformed in some way to the point that one could hardly call them human, and on their nude bodies, multiple surgical scars as well as wounds were blatantly visible. Based on their appearances and the possible treatment they were given, I could see why they went insane.

Looking at them made my stomach rather uncomfortable, causing me to have a strong desire to throw up. However, there was really nothing in there to be thrown up. Therefore, what I experienced was a type of torture in its own. Just the thought that the only creature in this world that knows about humanity could be so inhumane... it just makes me sick. But...I guess that is just how humanity works. Humans...we are the most civilized, and yet we are the most wild of all animals. Deeply ingrained in each of us is a dark savagery that is contained by society and order. If that restrainer is taken, then chaos is the absolute outcome.

I took a deep breath out of frustration but immediately regretted it. At that moment, I had forgotten about the horrendous stench of feces as well as rotten corpses that I had been filtering out just earlier by only breathing small dosages through my mouth. The stench burned down my throat, ripping apart my esophagus and made me gag and bend forward slightly at my waist. After spitting out the saliva in my mouth, I immediately pulled up the collar on my hoodie and brought it over my mouth and nose, breathing in the scarce normal air that was trapped in my clothes.

"Are you alright?" I felt Muria's hand gently rubbing on my back.

"Yeah," I nodded as I rose to my full height.

I looked over at her and saw that she was covering her mouth and nose with the collar of her clothing as well since she has both hands free unlike me. Ever since I saw the first prison cell, I had brought the rifle into my hands, holding it in a standby position and ready to fire on anyone. For some reason, I feared that the "patients" would break out of their prison cell and attack us. It is an unjustified worry as these "patients" are in horrible condition. Besides, I highly doubt their bodies that suffer from severe cases of physical mutilation and other diseases would be able to prove to be much of a threat. One may not be a problem. Maybe even two, three, four, or five. But...what if they all break out and rush at us at once? There must be at least a hundred "patients" on this floor alone judging on the approximate number of "patients" in each cell and the number of cells on this floor. Fourteen bullets...it's just not enough. Besides, there's also that Warden roaming the hallways that I have to worry about. Is that man still walking on the first floor? Or is he on the second one and following after us?

"We've reached the radio room," Alvelyn notified me in my mind.

"Alright. We'll meet you there," I responded without taking my eyes off of the road ahead and my hands off of the rifle. "How the hell did you guys even walk down this hallway..."

"It...took a long time. But...they don't seem to notice us and just stay in their cells..."

I digested what Alvelyn had said to me in our mental conversation and continued walking down. Then, when I looked over to the prison cell on my left, what I saw almost made me drop the rifle. The "patients" in this cell, with their small physiques, were clawing on the bodies of two naked bodies of normal sized women, who seemed deathly thin. These women, badly beaten with numerous bruises on their battered bodies, seemed to be still alive as they laid lifelessly on the ground as they are being violated by those "patients" who continued to thrust and rape the women while digging their long fingernails into the pale and lifeless flesh of the women.

"God damn it!" I cried out in anger and pointed the rifle in the prison cell. I aimed at the "patient" that was raping the woman closest to the hallway and was just about to pull the trigger, but I hesitated. The rifle trembled in my hands as I suffered from my mental dilemma.

Should I pull the trigger and open fire on them? It is not their choice to be born or transformed into these hideous creatures, and...should I waste a bullet saving them? I risk notifying the Warden of my presence here as well as causing the other inmates to get riled up. If I do save these women, who are probably part of the group of missing hikers, what happens next? Would they live long enough until rescue arrives? How would I get them out of here?

Slowly, I lowered the rifle, feeling a sense of great hatred for the reality and for my weakness. There's no right answer in this. Both options are bad and would eat away at me.

I turned my head and looked over at Muria with uncertainty in my eyes, hoping that she would be able to provide me with the right answer. However, on her face was also a conflicted look. Upon seeing her troubled countenance, I was suddenly reminded of that vision I had saw earlier of the man reaching his hand out while being pinned onto the ground at the group of Jorzan soldiers that were raping a woman. What would that man do if he saw this? The answer is simple...

"Muria," I whispered to her as I walked up to the barred door. I looked down at the lock, and seeing the rusty state that it was in, I was confident that I will be able to break it down. "Turn around. It'll...get ugly."

I reached my hand towards the barrel of the rifle and pulled on the retracted bayonet blade until it snapped into position with a satisfying clank. In the meantime, I heard Muria shuffle her feet and reposition herself.

I covered my mouth using the collar of my hoodie and took a deep breath to calm my rapidly beating heart. Slowly, I raised the rifle up so that the stock was above the lock. Then, using all the strength in my body, I brought the stock down on the metal lock, breaking it and causing it to fall onto the ground. This process caused a loud noise that trumped all the other noises present in the hallway, but I didn't care at that moment. I kicked open the door and readied the rifle, holding it in my hands like a spear. I charged in, puncturing the fragile skin of the "patient" nearest to me, forcing him out of the woman that he was having forced intercourse with before I slammed the body of the "patient" against the concrete wall. I could feel the dull bayonet blade pierce through the fragile skin of the "patient" and the walls of important organs giving way. It...was a disgusting and horrifying feeling.

Blood splattered onto my clothes, but I didn't really realize it at the moment. I immediately pulled the bayonet blade out of the body of the dead "patient" and used the butt of the rifle to smash into the head of another "patient" and force him off of the body of another woman. The skull of the "patient" felt rather soft and extremely fragile, and when the weak bones cracked and gave way to the mushy brain underneath, I could feel the slight change in resistance as well as hear the sound of brain splattering as the "patient's" head slammed against the concrete wall.

Five more...

I cannot recall how I dismantled the "patients" in this cell, but when I regained conscious, I was leaning on the rifle to stand as great fatigue plagued my body and realized that they were all dead. Their corpses...no longer even resembled them prior to death. Their malnourished and malformed body structure had weaken their anatomy, making every part of their body fragile. Therefore, when I used all my might in each swing of the rifle, each stab of the bayonet, their bodies just seemed to...dismantle themselves. The internal organs spilled out of burst stomachs, spilling blood and bits of brown colored guts onto the floor of the cell.

Slowly, I flung the bloodied rifle over my shoulder using the shoulder strap and walked over to the abused bodies of the two women who appeared to be vaguely conscious. With great gentleness, I picked up the two women and moved them away from the pile of filth and closer to the exterior of the cell. I placed the two women close to each other and then took off my hoodie before draping it over their bodies.

I didn't say anything and simply stared at them. Their lifeless eyes opened slightly and gazed back. On their tired and battered faces, a faint smile appeared as their light and trembling breathing continued. I stood over them for a few more seconds before I sighed and walked out of the cell. Muria was still waiting for me with her back turned.

"Let's go," I said in a distraught voice.

She slowly turned around and surveyed me up and down. Her eyes glanced over to the two women who rested by the bars of the cell with my hoodie covering parts of their bodies and then back at me. The angle she was looking at and the lighting obscured the horrors of the prison cell.

"Let's go," she nodded without any further comment on the blood staining my paints and the rifle on my back.

As we continued down the hallway, the place seemed dead quiet. It's a rare and unsettling sense of serenity. As we walked by each cell, the "patients" simply stared at us as we walked by with their mutilated faces. No longer was the laughter of insanity; no longer was the sounds of tapping and footsteps; no longer was the sound of banging on the prison bars. It was a dead silence, with the only sounds audible being the whistling of the wind outside and our footsteps. However, also thrown in the mix was another pair of footsteps that did not belong to Muria and I. It was one that referenced a large, brutish being. And, it is rapidly approaching.

In fact, it is just behind us.