Behind closed doors

Necklaces made of rope

Carmen looked down at the necklace around her neck.

She always imagined going out this way, the necklace made of rope.

She's imagined it, had a nightmare over it once too.

But... the human brain is fortunately unable to capture the essence of entirely how fucked Carmen was.

She had since accepted that, politely given 3 days notice. And now she didn't give a dam.

Carmen Sandiego would always be Carmen Sandiego.

Dramatic, with a spot of red.

Well, tonight she was feeling like her old self, being on a death bed does that to you. Seeing as nothing mattered so long as no one tried to save her... all was well.

In h#ll.

Two guards dragged Carmen by the hair and chains on her arms. They entered one room after the other, Carmen felt her chance of escape shatter as her arms were chained to the ceiling of a rather spacious basement, she felt her muscles pop and bones threaten to let go, her feet were just barely on the floor, making her vulnerable to attacks.

In the middle of this bland room was a short cylinder podium, where she was shackled above and just able to rest her feet where the VILE logo looked up at her. Amusing.

One of the guards quirked an eyebrow, "You're not thinking about escaping are you?" He almost laughed, playing as if it were impossible. Granted, it probably was.

Carmen looked at him inquisitively, the ghost of a smile on her lips, "I wonder, how pathetic do you have to be to not graduate?

It was common knowledge that, upon failing graduation, you could apply for a holdover year, become a guard, or return to the real world without any memory of the academy.

Another guard stepped in, seemingly defending his friend, "I don't think you're in a position to call someone else pathetic."

Carmen's eyes locked onto his, unblinking, "Tell me, why do you think I get my own sentencing? Because I was the best of the best."

The guards only grumbled at that, one of them giving her the middle finger before retreating to the four corners of the room. Carmen felt a trace of guilt from the brag but shrugged it off.

Carmen turned as the door opened, taking note of a dozen operatives entering. All of them in her grade.

Tigress passed her slowly, sneering, Crackle was next to her, his face contorted with sorrow.

"Well, well, looks like Fedora is finally getting what she deserves."

Carmen smirked, like she was herself and the only part of her missing was red lipstick. "I never did tell you how much of a crime that outfit was, Tigress." She said, judging the furry-wannabe suit. "For someone who enjoys criticism, you've clearly never taken any when it comes to good fashion advice."

Tigress scoffed and walked away but Crackle lingered softly, trying to convince her with his eyes to ask for mercy. Fuck no.

Carmen growled at him, mock attacking him as she tugged at the chains to snap as close to his face as she could. He flinched, then walked over to Tigress.

El Topo passed, unable to look her in the eye. Le Chèvre stood there.

Jean Paul was not someone that could so easily trust. When she broke this by leaving the island, he hasn't been able to look her in the eyes unless they were fighting.

But there he stood, his face partially neutral and half feeling. She saw a look from him that hadn't shown itself to her since she was 16.

Her face softened, "You were always honest with me, grand frère."
Big brother.