When the World Ends

8; Astrid

The republic prison was the last place I expected to be while in office. Stepping into this hellhole was like stepping into another dimension. Daye and the headmistress were chatting amongst themselves ahead of us, while Angel and I looked around in disgust. 

This place was FILTHY. No wonder the headmistress had such high platform boots on. She didn't want the muck that had accumulated on the floor anywhere near her uniform. 

Daye stopped the procession, turned to us and said, "I'd like to take Astrid and have a look around before we reconvene. Perhaps you could take Angel to find her family and then call for us after. We'll probably start by finding the old records room; shouldn't take too long."

"Excellent idea, Elector!" She cooed, motioning Angel to follow her. They crossed the room and disappeared down a hall to the left. 

We continued across the room as well, walking down a long hall  to our right before pushing through a door that led to the common grounds. 

     Taking several quick strides to catch up to Daye, I asked, "Is there any reason that this place is particularly filthy? Is it intentional?"

     "No." He said, and kept walking. "My father only cared about those who could either make him money or keep him in power. Criminals do neither. He couldn't have cared less if they were corpses floating down the river if he couldn't manipulate them for his gain."

     "But, that makes sense only as long as the prisoners stay here, though. If they finish their sentence and reintegrate into society, they could easily vote against him." I let my voice trail off, a pause, and then added, "If he were still alive, that is."

No answer.

We rounded the domed cylindrical building that sat to our right. Daye paused at the door, turning to me. "What you said would be true," he stopped in front of me, gesturing to the high stone walls surrounding the grounds., "If anyone who came in ever made it out."

Swinging the door to the building open, he gestured me in, wincing as he stretched the cuts on his bicep. To distract himself from the ache, he said, "What I don't understand is such heavy punishment for petty crime. Getting limbs lopped off for stealing a candy bar? Unnecessary. My father insisted on ruling by fear. That's his mistake, because the second people get hope to revolt, they will."

Stepping into the room, I glanced around. It was an office like the one we had first entered, except this one seemed to be empty.  

     "I have to agree. People won't stay oppressed forever. Eventually they will realise that they deserve better and actively begin to pursue it."

He nodded, leading the way once again. "We'll probably be here for hours, so try and at least get a little comfortable."

At the back of the office, there was an unmarked door. The blinds were shut, and the window was dusty. Day gripped the handle and to his surprise it turned, but the door was jammed. He had to put the full weight of his good shoulder against it to shove it open. And once he did, dust flew everywhere. 

     "Daye, why did we come all the way back here, to this dust trap? Wasn't that building we passed through on the way in an office?" I asked, pulling my shirt up over my face, dust swirling around the both of us as we stepped into the room.

     "This is the room the headmistress said we could use." Under his breath he added, "Like I'm not the one in control."

He took one more look around the room, cramped and filled with desks and chairs covered in white cloths. The only uncovered desk sat to our immediate left, with a single chair and an ancient box computer.