My Co-Worker is an Elf Girl?! (#thewattys2024)

Chapter 30 - This Wasn't How it Was Supposed To Go

City of Ûr Central Prison Women's Intake - Day
In some depressing part of the town stands a towering, brutalist structure that serves as a filing cabinet for the city's undesirables. Unfortunately, that is also where Remy is currently being kept.

Despite the place being as welcoming as a veterinary oncology ward, Remy is in high spirits. She smiles as she lines up with the other inmates.

REMY: "Previously on Remy Ragefire's Human Life... our heroine falls into the hands of some dastardly jailers! What will she do to escape their clutches?!"

The INMATES are lining up to receive their uniform jumpsuits from the commissary. PRISON GUARDS are escorting them through.

PRISON GUARD: "Keep it moving! Keep it moving!"

A heavily reinforced security camera hangs above the convicted queue. Its "recording" LED light gazes upon the room's occupants like a bloody, ever-vigilant eye.

REMY: "Our heroine hatches her plan! There is a ratio of 1 guard for every 15 prisoners. A riot would surely overwhelm this prison's defenses if she starts a fight!"

RANDOM INMATE #1: "You've been narrating your every thought in third person for 90 minutes! Please shut the hell up!"

REMY: "Her otherworldly intuition is telling her to start with the person behind her..."

Remy is almost at the front of the line. There are three PRISON STAFF MEMBERS handing out uniform sets.

PRISON STAFF MEMBER #1: "Size?"

RANDOM INMATE #2: "Medium."

PRISON STAFF MEMBER #2: "Size?"

RANDOM INMATE #3: "Large."

Remy walks up to PRISON STAFF MEMBER #3. She looks awfully like Cpt. Abby Winters, the female investigator who visited Sam's apartment earlier.

REMY: "I'm size..."

PRISON STAFF MEMBER #3: "Here you go..."

Remy is handed a clothing bag. It is easily five times the size compared to others' and ten times the weight. It also has a unique size tag of "Small 2."

REMY (whispering to herself): "Gasp! What's this? Am I being given contraband? Could the sign be clearer that our heroine is the chosen one?!"

Remy and the rest of the inmates are escorted to the dressing rooms.

PRISON GUARD: "When you change into your uniforms, please place your clothes into the provided bag. You have 15 minutes! Hurry it up!"

The prisoners are herded into their individual booths. Remy unwraps hers with glee.

REMY: "What will it be? I hope it's ramen packets or cigarettes so I can buy things in the black market!"

The elf girl's cheery attitude melts upon seeing the bag's contents.

She clenches her fists as a wave of dread washes over her.

She reaches for the first thing she sees.

It's a ceremonial rapier. It is wrought with a degree of artistry wasted on an iron implement fated to rot in a ditch somewhere with its conscripted teenage end user.

Remy pulls the blade out of its ivory scabbard. She spies her own sour expression in the reflection of the blade's flawless sheen.

She sheaths the weapon.

The elf girl is out of the fitted blouse Samara gave her and into a noblewoman's flowing silk gown. Her wild plume of pink hair has been tamed, tied into neat braids, and wrapped into a single neat bun. Remy stows the ceremonial rapier by her side. She steps out of her changing stall.

The hallway has emptied entirely. PRISON GUARD #2, who looks awfully like Lt. Leonard Connor from earlier, stands waiting for her.

PRISON GUARD #2: "Follow me."

The security camera's light has shut off.

The Guard leads her through a tangle of narrow hallways. Doors leading to doors. Then some more.

They stop in front of a narrow door. It is labeled "Electrical Closet."

PRISON GUARD #2: "Step inside. They're waiting for you."

Remy takes a deep breath. Then, she exhales and closes her eyes.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Free trial of peace is over.

Remy tenses up and enters the closet. It is vastly bigger inside than out.

UNKNOWN MANOR IN THE MIDDLE REALMS - TIME UNKNOWN

Remy has returned to her world. Or at least some spectral projection of it.

The elf girl steps onto the marble floor of a once-opulent villa, a house that has since fallen into disrepair.

Remy stands inside the stronghold's threshold. Or at least she thinks she does. The room is dimly lit with candles, so it's hard to pinpoint exactly where she is.

There is enough light to make out one elegant figure in the darkness. The feeble glow of wick flame highlights her resplendent silver armor.

Lady Fairlight awaits her.

To be continued...