PyroManiac

I could see the port as the ferry neared the island. It was a marvelous sight to have the facility of Alcatrax standing tall in the middle of the ocean. I didn't believe at first when I was chosen as one of the visitors, but it was a pleasant surprise none the less. I could spot an elderly man sporting a flamboyant beard in a black suit waiting for my arrival.

At least I wouldn't have to explore this dungeon all by myself, I chuckled to myself.

I jumped out of the ferry as soon as it docked and came head to head to the man in the suit.

Welcome to Operation Alcatrax, Mr. Donaldson. I am your host of the day, Benjamin Broadway. I would be leading you- "

There was silence among us.

"Mr. Donaldson, are you okay?" Mr. Broadway said as he shook his aged hand in front of my face.

I got startled and shook myself out of my slumber, "Uh, sorry, Mr. Broadway," I said as I gave him my broadest smile, "Not many people call me by my name. I guess it threw me off a little bit."

Mr. Broadway smiled back at me and said, "Yes, I know how they refer you. Mr. Beast. A pretty appropriate name for you, is it not?"

I hated how I was blushing from an elderly gentleman's compliments.

I saw him walking inside the building, which meant I should follow him too. As I went through the main door, it closed itself behind us, making a huge noise.

"Why-Why do you think that, Mr. Broadway? Doesn't the beast have a negative connotation?"

"Well, not for you, Mr. Donaldson. The way you have made strides in improving this society of west is commendable. Your social work has become an inspiration and an example for millions. Its not everyday I come across a man such as you."

"Well, thanks for your kind words, sir- "

"Which also raises the questions of your presence in here, Mr. Donaldson. May I be rude enough to ask why you wanted to visit a facility full of criminals?"

Even after cutting me off and posing a question, Mr. Broadway didn't look back at me. He continued to walk like he believed I'd follow him.

Unfortunately for me, he was right.

"Well, I don't see them as 'just criminals.' Frankly, they are a part of society. Sure, not the most pleasant side, but also a side which should not be ignored."

"Very well said, Mr. Donaldson," Mr. Broadway said as he pocketed his hands.

"Will you be able to handle the information I give you, Mr. Donaldson? Y'know this facility only houses the special cases, right?"

This time, I smiled to myself and said, "Don't worry about me. I am a beast."

Mr. Broadway chuckled on my joke where as I felt pride in myself.

After walking for ten minutes we came to a halt in front of a door. Mr. Broadway gave it a slight push and it swung inside to let us in. the only furniture there was, was two chairs, one table, and one cabinet. Mr. Broadway walked towards the cabinet and took out one of the files. He put it on the table and took the seat directly in front of the cabinet.

I sat opposite to him and opened the file immediately. I didn't want to waste another moment. I had to get this information and reference it for my future plans.

Instead of a full debrief, I found inside a single table with almost none of the data.

NAME

PRABHAAT SINHA aka PYROMANIAC

SEX

MALE

SCALE

5/7

OPERATION

CONFINEMENT

RELEASE

NONE

ROLE

EX###T###ER

I was confused. How would I be able to use this detail in reforming the domestic violence program in North Carolina?

"Mr. Broadway, do you have something else for me? I have some processes on hold, only because I had no reference point. Now that I did get the chance, this information isn't enough."

"Mr. Donaldson, relax. I heard you speaking on your violence reforms in your home town, and I will make your visit here worthy. But first, can you tell me the similarity between a musket and a firecracker?"

"Yeah, they both need gunpowder for an explosion."

"Splendid. Now you have seen a lot of instances of violence involving a gun, right? Today, I'll tell you a story of how a person can use an instrument of joy, a firecracker, as a gun."

I gulped. I was ready. This was my chance.

"The name of the man on the file, Sinha, was the son of Yograj Sinha, one of the biggest firecracker manufacturers in India. He had eight factories spread out throughout the country, and a lot of branches for international business. One of the managers he had was his son, who was efficient into making and overseeing the manufacture of a firecracker. Whether it was a big bomb, or as simple as a rocket, he knew it all. One day, an incident happened. While on his regular walk through his factory, his employee made a mistake and burned him. Not completely, of course. But all of his back, half of his left front was charred.

"In the end, he inherited the factories from his dad. But as he grew older- "

"Mr. Broadway, sorry to interrupt. But you went from his accident to his adulthood. What happened in between?"

"Something, not important to this story."

"Oh."

"Now, as he grew older, his distance with society also grew more and more. When he entered his thirties, he met a woman who wanted to marry him, and so, they started a family. Their family completed when they gave birth to their son. Everything was going good until another fateful day, his son fired off some firecrackers on his back."

OOOH, that must have hurt, I thought to myself.

"Fortunately for him, it didn't hurt him. Not even enough to feel pain. Turned out, he incurred third degree burns. And for that reason, his pores were clogged. He had lost his foreskin, and his sense of pain too. You know what happens when you don't feel pain, Mr. Donaldson?"

"Wh-Wh-what?"

"You become a god."

Every word coming out of Mr. Broadway was hitting a tad bit heavier now. I didn't feel like sitting in a chair. I wanted to move.

"Slowly and steadily, he realized nothing could hurt him on his already burnt skin. And he did try to play god. When he tied his wife for sexual reasons but showered her with gunpowder. Only one stick of match was enough to set her healthy and beautiful wife on fire. On an average, the survival rate from a third-degree burn is 50%. But Sinha's wife fell into the unfortunate bracket, when her flailing body on the bed burnt the whole house. Her veins dried up of her blood, her body, burned to a crisp. And only for an experiment."

I didn't want to be in this room. I just, wanted to jump out into the ocean and swim back to my home.

"People, Mr. Donaldson, are obsessive. And thinking of his wife's death as a sacrifice, Sinha found a new subject in his son."

I looked at Broadway in his eyes. They were calm. They were serene. However, mine were raging.

"Sinha took his kid to one of his factories and fed him sleeping pills. He realized his mistake of burning his wife in one go, so he decided to target one part at a time. He fired sparkle fountains on his shoulders, sparkles on his thighs, roman candles on his back, and tying fire crackers all over his body and setting them off in unison. The son, however, was long dead of sleeping pills overdose, giving Sinha ample time to play god before we caught a wind of it.

When we went to his factory, we caught him taping the fire rockets on his back while his son's carcass hung by a string next to him."

There was silence among us. Mr. Broadway was done speaking. I had no words for… anything.

I stood up and looked at him. He looked into my red eyes and smiled at me. I had enough people in my life to recognize his callous smile.

I threw his file back on the table and opened the door we came through. I looked back at him and said, "You don't house criminals in here. You take care of monsters and beasts!"

Without removing his smirk off his face, he said, "And yet, I'm letting one go."

The rage inside me was burning high. I walked out of the room and retraced my steps towards the ferry.

"I'll be waiting to see your social reforms policies, Beast," I heard his voice coming from the room.

I wiped my face and flung the heavy grey door to see my ferry waiting for me.