Judgement Park

I’ve been living for 19 years. Six of those years were spent in hell. It’s been Six years since I’ve seen the warmth of my mother’s face. Six years since I’ve seen the outside world. Six years since I’ve had a moment of true happiness. In fact it’s been six years since i was supposed to die. I’m not even supposed to be alive. The place I’m in is called Judgment Park. I was brought to this place when I was 13 years old. At the time I was the youngest “prisoner of truth” in Judgment parks history. The topical prisoners are aged 19-30. That’s the age group that brings in the money. Here at Judgment Park, the limits of the human body and physiological are pushed to limits. It’s proclaimed in the name of science, but I’ve been in here long enough that it’s all for profit. There are cameras that capture our every move broadcasting it to the world for the world to see every week. At least that’s what I assume. This place has been running for 40 years. It’s an underground human torture factory, were you die if you can’t survive.

My real name is John Stevens but I’m known as the miracle boy. I earned that name by surviving through my first week that I was brought here. The origin story is infamous around here, as every new prisoners gets told the story when they arrive by the veterans during free time. For some the story is a source of inspiration, for others it’s a source of entertainment. For me it’s the source of all my nightmares. The only reason I’m alive is because I killed a 24 year old girl in cold blood. That’s what this place is. Some would call this a prison but we who live inside it know it’s much worse than that. By comparison this place makes Gutomo Bay seem like daycare. We refer to this place as D.T.F which is short for Death, torture, and Fear. There objects here are to measure how much punishment a person can take before they collapse. During the first day that I was kidnapped I instantly learned about what it would take to survive here. I was placed in the standard living cell where all prisoners are taken. The cell contains nothing except for a toilet and bed. I cried all night for my mom, begging pleading and refusing to shut up. A quick blow to the jaw changed that. The guard had grown tired of my whining and decided that he wasn’t going to pity me anymore. As he walked away, I had to suck in my own lungs deep into my stomach to avoid making even the slightest whimper in hopes that he wouldn’t return. During my second day I received medical treatment on my face and was allowed to talk to an interviewer. After the doctor left the doctor left the room a lady in a blue suit walked in and sat in a chair across from me. She then proceeded to ask me questions about my life and where I was from. During the middle of her asking me a question I made the mistake of blurting out “WHERES MY MOM”. The lady in the blue suit stopped talking and starred at me and her left eyelid started twitching. A sudden feeling of despair overcome my body. Two minutes went by and neither of us moved. Then she politely stood up and said you’ll regret interrupting me when I’m speaking. My rage took over and I said you’ll regret kidnapping me and that police are working on tracking my down right now. She burst out laughing and replied that, we weren’t even on U.S soil anymore and that the facility was underground. Before I could accuse of her of being a lie b*tch, she turned around and walked out of the room. I quickly learned that I was expected to die by the end of the week, and that I would be lucky to even survive until the end of the day. Over the next 3 days of they had succeeded in breaking my spirit. Initially because of my young age I was going to be allowed to die quick without the torture, but due to my incident with the lady in the blue suit, that was no longer the case. After starving me for two days they demanded that I eat it the equivalent amount of grasshoppers per every pound of food I ate. During a time known as free time the prisoners are allowed to socialize with each other in a lunchroom area. Many prisoners were jealous that I was receiving such good treatment. If my treatment were considered good, I was the terrified to think of what the others went through. It was end of the week that I earned the name miracle boy. The day started with me being blindfolded and taken to mysterious room. When my blindfold was removed I found myself facing a blonde girl with a counter table full of products separating us. Then a loud voice boomed from non-visible speaker telling us our instructions. It was called a grudge match. Basically using only chemicals and home products in front of us, we had to inflict as much damage to the other as possible without killing the other. The speaker said points would be earned from the quality of the screams and groans the prisoners could cause to the other. Any pain caused from physical contact would be ignored. After the voice had told us to begin, the girl began to slowly walk around the counter towards me. I started speaking to her in a desperate tone , saying how their crazy if they expect us to do what they want , and how we should focus on escaping , and what—– One swift quick to the balls had me knees yelling and then on my side tearing up. Before I could even begin to form words in my mouth to speak, the girl grabbed my shirt with one hand than tossed bleach at my face. Some of it went into my eyes while a majority of it went into my eyes. I was nearly blind and I was choking. The girl proceeded to straddle me. I started begging for my life asking her to please stop and not do this. She than spat in my face and punched my still injured jaw. She started inserting something in my nose. The smell burned my nostrils. I pleaded with her one last time that I was just a kid and all I wanted was my mom. At the mention of my mom she started laughing and said if I wanted the pain to stop, than I had told her that I’d kill my mom. She said if I didn’t want to experience more pain that I’d have to renounce my mother and reduce her to the level of a common skank. My mind was shattered this girl knew nothing of my mom. My mom was a single parent raising two kids. She had always loved me and looked after me. She was my comfort zone when everything goes wrong. She was my hope from escaping from this hell. I’d rather dies than disgrace her. The girl had than began to laugh obnoxiously in my face. She then grabbed the bottle of vinegar that was beside her and began shoving it down my mouth. Every time I tried to close my moth she would apply pressure on my balls, to make open it again. With my small body pinned underneath her unable to move, she blocked my nose. I was stuck in that position literally drowning to death, my only hope was to try to swallow as much vinegar as possible. Just when I was ready to pass out a bell rang. She got off me and the voice had said to take a 20 min break. A couple of guard helped me to my feet and carried middle of the room. Barely conscious I was being carried down the halls. I was placed in the lunchroom area and spread out on top of a cafeteria table. A couple of prisoners were around me, and talking amongst themselves. From their conversations I learned that the girl I was facing was a veteran at Judgment Park. Her name was Judy Crox. She had a reputation for always torturing her opponent before she killed them. Apparently I was going to be her 31st victory. The guards than came to pick me up and carry me back to the battle area. Before we were able to make it back, one of the guard’s receivers started buzzing. The person on the line had told the guards to get some supplies from the janitor’s closet. So we made a quick pit stop. They placed m down on the floor inside the closet and proceeded to get the materials they needed. After 10 minutes they picked me up again and we were on our way. Inside the battle room Rudy was waiting for me. The guards dropped me on the floor and stepped back to their waiting area. The voice than said you may now kill our opponent, but more points will be earned which can be used to upgrade your cell, if you torture them first. Judy took her time and walked to the counter to gather her supplies she than came beside me and crouched down. She than took some lemon juice and poured it into my nose and eyes. Screaming in agonizing pain I begged her to stop. She took a moment to lick the tears from my eyes. Something inside me snapped. At that exact moment, while her tongue was exposed I used all my remaining energy and threw an open box of rat poison towards her exposed mouth. She quickly jumped away from me, but a significant amount had landed on her tongue and into her mouth. She started gagging and she reached out to grab the box and try to read the label. Her eyes went wide when she read it. She then proceeded to start choking, and her eyes were watering. She lunged her hands around her throat as if she expected that to slow the poison down. It was no use she collapsed in front of me and slowly started dying. The expression on her face asked how?? I quietly thought to myself on how I had grabbed the poison at the janitor’s closet and kept it secretly hidden in the back of my pants between my skin and the fabric. AFTER all her body movement had stopped the voice proclaimed me the winner. After that day the story of my victory was retold over and over again. They celebrated me as a hero. Thus the name of miracle boy was given to me. That was 6 years ago.

Part two and three are located on my website ! 

http://landofthereal.com/judgement-park-part-2/