“87 people were killed because of you,” The Warden said it too casually as if the boy’s doing was no more than killing an ant. He flipped the pages on the file, adjusted his reading glasses, sighed and looked up at him. “The moment you entered that funeral, they collapsed,” He cleared his throat. “Now, what did you do?”
“I told you, I didn’t do anything,” Earl’s fists clenched too tightly.
This was ridiculous. He should have just shut up. What good would telling do when no one would even believe him? Since, he knew too well that a matter of his sentence wasn’t enough to satisfy what the Wardens had investigated on that area.
What was he? Against the majority of the evidences they had collected?
But his words were his only companion now. Might as well say it, huh?
He was on his own. No one could come, not his parents, or his friends, or the neighbourhood that once looked up to him. They were dead.
Dead.
Murdered.
Killed.
“Why?” The warden prompted his elbows on the table as the metallic chair creaked. He leaned on the back of his hands. “Why would you kill them,” He skimmed the file one time and looked up, “Earl?”
His burning fingertips were harder to ignore now. Any minute, he could tell that this Warden would follow their path. He would be dead –With Earl doing absolutely nothing. It was as if, wherever he went and whomever he spoke to, they ended up dead. And the reason to that was hiding beneath the puzzles.
The cycle would begin again.
Maybe he could stop it. Yet, in this closed cell room, with only a table in the centre and two chairs, it was hard for him to decisive a plan of escape. Also, taking in consideration that the doors were heavily sealed, there were no means of getting out.
Well, of course, he couldn’t possibly get out. He was a popular prisoner after all. Newspapers printed out his face as fugitive. He was transported to different kinds of prisons already. Since, each of the prisons he went ended up in death’s row. He was as if a plague of the Black Death to everyone.
And now, he was sent here in the Main – A prison that is indented for high-class criminals. It was foolish for this “highly” prison to confine him here. Even though they would’ve known the patterns of his whereabouts, they still insisted to take him in custody here.
Earl, w-why?! A voice echoed from his thoughts.
His eyes opened widely in shock as his hands gripped tightly on the metallic chair.
Please, no,He insisted.
Yet he was losing it. His mind started to dance around him now, like a beautiful ballerina disguised as if it wasn’t a psychopathic nightmare. It reminded back the events. Even his ears and sight were playing along. He could hear that horrifying melody again. He could hear them weep...Their wails and mourning. His sight wasn’t in reality. The things around him turned into a mirage. It was fading, shedding into a different kind of horror.
Until he could see the funeral.
Clearly.
Bodies.
Piled bodies around him.
The air was damp, twirling with the metallic stench of blood and decayed corpses. Everyone was lying on the ground, with the revulsion of misery and perplexity plastered on their twisted faces. Each of their hearts stopped beating. They were lifeless, wounded by the same symptoms and injury. It was as if it was their plan to have their deaths uniformed in accordance.
