Prisoner

Chapter 4

"You're right," I say, staring at the empty hall. "He's gone."

"He wouldn't have left his post," the guard says. I frown. He mistakes my expression for disbelief. "Really. He never--"

"Shh!" I hiss. My brow furros. "Do you hear that?" He goes completely silent. I slowly walk towards Vault 120 and press my ear to the door. The sound of chains being shaken grows louder. There was another sound, though--something I almost couldn't hear. A muffled cry.

My eyes widen. "He's in the Vault!"

"B-but how?" The soldier stammers. "You're the only one with a key!"

"The keys are all fake," I mutter. "You don't need a key to this door. It's part of the security." I push on the great handle. 

"No!" A voice shouts. A cool, pale hand shoots out and covers mine. The barely-cracked door slams shut. I jump and whirl around to face Doll-eyes.

"How the hell did you get out of your cell?" I snarl.

The guard immediately does what he had been trained to do and pulls out his gun. "Get away from the Warden!" He orders. "Back away!" His hands are shaking.

Doll-eyes stares at him. I yelp as he grabs my arm and yanks me to him. He wraps one arm around my throat and the other on my wrist, trapping me. If I struggled, he would crush me.

"Drop the gun," Doll-eyes says. I am shocked at how cool and controlled his voice sounds. He sounds nothing like himself; he sounds scary, dangerous.

The soldier looks panicked. Doll-eyes intense gaze has terrifed him. "I know you won't shoot the Warden," Doll-eyes murmurs. "Drop the gun, and I won't hurt her."

"Don't do it!" I warn. "Shoot him! Don't worry about me!"

"Drop it," Doll-eyes repeats.

I stomp hard on Doll-eyes' foot and throw my shoulder into his nose as he bends reflexively in pain. He staggers backwards, releasing me. I quickly snatch the gun from the officer and point it directly at Doll-eyes' forehead. He slowly raises his hands. His white and black eyes bore into mine.

"He might hesitate, but I won't," I say coldly. The sound of chains shaking reaches me again, and I am reminded of why I am here. My eyes narrow. "One of my men is in that Vault."

"He's dead," Doll-eyes says sharply. "There's no point going in after him. Anyone who goes into that Vault will surely die."

"I don't believe that," I say. The soldier goes to the door.

Doll-eyes' eyes snap over to him, and he growls low in his chest. "Don't. If you go in, you'll die, too. Anyone who goes in will die."

"Would you?" I ask. My hand tightens on the gun.

Doll-eyes blinks, stunned at my comment. He moves forward. "You're not that cruel, Noelle. You wouldn't send me in there."

"Wouldn't I?"

"No," he says softly. "You wouldn't."

"You're afraid," I realize. "You're terrified of the thing in there."

"Of course I'm afraid!" He snaps. "You'd be stupid not to be afraid. I bent the damn bars trying to stop you from going in there."

"You bent the bars?"

"I'm stronger than I look." He reaches out and gently touches my hand, tilting the gun towards the floor. "Noelle," he says quietly. I look away from his eyes. The chains rattle again from inside the Vault.

I shove him away and hand the gun back to the guard. "Take him back to the maximum vaults and put him with number 063." Leo would have to share. I turn to Doll-eyes. "You told me once that your kind lives to serve. I'm giving you an order. Go with the guard and stay in Leo's cell. If you come out and interrupt me again, I will shoot you."

He stiffens. "You can't go in there, Noelle. Not alone. You can't go into that Vault."

"Why do you care?" I shoot back. "Go. I gave you an order."

The soldier pushes Doll-eyes back towards the maximum vaults. I turn and face the door. I can hear quiet laughter instead of chains. My heart starts to pound. Once again I am five years old, clinging to my uncle's leg. I shake my head and push on the handle, and hte door slowly swings open. The laughter stops.

I open the door all the way. My eyes fall on a crumpled body in a messy uniform. "Simmons!" I run forward and grab his shoulder, flipping him onto his back. His face is badly beaten and bloody. There are bruises in the shape of fingers on his throat. Doll-eyes was right; Simmons was dead.

I slowly raise my eyes to the figure in the room. A pair of blood-red eyes meet mine. I quickly glance at the gun still attached to Simmons' waist. There is a brief flicker of movement from the creature. He tilts his head and stares at me as if to say, "You think a gun will help you?"

I freeze. Every bone in my body is screaming for me to get away, to run, to escape, but I can't make myself move. He's trapped me under his gaze. Focus, Noelle, I tell myself. You can't let Simmons rot in here. But I can't tear my eyes away from the figure in chains.

He was tall, probably around 198 centimeters. His skin was pale, bleached by the lack of sunlight. His hair was reddish brown and wavy, falling over his forehead and barely brushing his dark, thick eyebrows. There were black lines on his face, tattoos of some kind. His mouth was hidden by a hideous metal mask. He was chained to the wall by his wrists and a spiked, heavy-looking collar around his neck.

I look at his hands. There is blood on his knuckles. Simmons. My eyes narrow. I am the Warden. I can't stand here cowering in fear. Slowly, I point to Simmons' body. "Did you kill him?" I am proud of how controlled my voice is.

Quiet laughter fills the air again. He's amused by me. I get a sick feeling in my stomach. The red-eyed creature raises his arms and steps out, straining against the chains. I feel a tremor of fear and quickly bend down, pulling Simmons' arm over my shoulder.

I try to hoist him up and immediately regret sending Doll-eyes away. If he is as strong as he says he is, he could really help me... But I had sent him off, and now I had to deal with the consequences. My heart pounds in fear as the laughter grows louder, masking the sound of groaning chains.

As I stagger out the door with Simmons on my shoulder, I hear a quiet, musical voice.

"Hello, Warden."