The Among

Part 3: Out of the Woods

Closed quarters, a room of isolation, and only your thoughts to keep you company. Being locked down solitary confinement was not a place for anyone to suffer, even for that of a trained skilled assassin. Still, there was much hope, after nine long months of being cooped up only to wither away, Shilah was finally going to be set free, but there were certain limitations to this deal, he must not have any contact with the outside world. The only freedom he got for the next twenty years was fifteen minutes of fresh air, and hearty meal of Prison Slop that was lazily put together on a plastic tray which was thrown into his secluded cell. There was not much to do except relive the past of one's mistakes. Shilah sighed as he planted his feet on the white washed brick wall as he closed his eyes. Hallucinations of his past haunted him he could clearly remember exactly what happened that night at the mansion:

Shilah stalked carefully as he watched the delusional man raise his hand with a steady hand, almost ready to strike Flamour with a sharp blade. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew something sharp—a makeshift grappling knife. One end of the rope was tied securely to a hooked piece of metal no bigger than palm of his hand. With accurate precision, he threw the grappling knife towards Syd who was just about to land the fatal assault. Flamour threw up her arms in self-defense to protect herself as she shut her eyes. The grappling knife wrapped around Syd's wrist, cutting both circulation and his hand off. Flamour opened her eyes to see how badly she was injured, when she saw the man holding his wrist—his eyes widened with a painful shocked expression, as Flamour covered her mouth with her hands, unable to believe what she had just witnessed, she knelt down beside him, and placed a small hand on his cheek, tears streaming down the man's face hoping for redemption
"I loved you," she spoke softly.
The white feral creature with such agile and grace, bit into the neck of Error, who let out a very loud and terrible screech of pain and discomfort. The diversion distracted Flamour to pull away from the violent scene to see what that awful noise was. The diversion was long enough to finish the job. It almost felt as if everything was running in slow motion, as Shilah leaped from the catwalk, and landed his hidden blade into the skull of Chad, the sound of an ancient blade thrusting into the soft tissue of the human being. Shilah looked behind him as he noticed that Syd had finally bled out. Shilah lowered his cloak as he started into the man who lay on the floor dying, so that he may see the Native's face one more time before Error took his energy to the abyss.

"Nothing I say can ever be true, but my action I partake will always be permitted," He spoke softly, as he pressed his fingers against the man's eyelids closing them for an eternal slumber. He put his hood back up and looked behind him, before he made his departure. He stepped back a couple of paces, and took off running, jumping out of the window, he spread his arms out wide as if he were take flight, and took the a flying leap of faith towards the pond below.

Shilah opened his eyes as the echoes of the metal door to his cell slide open. He sat up on his bed and face the guard that stood in front of him—tall, buff, and rugged who didn't take any shit from anyone.

"Let's go inmate you got a visitor," he said gruffly. The guard slapped cold metal handcuffs on him as he followed obediently behind the guard. The hall was long and cold with a shining florescent lights above. He looked around as many other prisoners peered out of their cell windows at the man.

"Dead man walking!" one of them shouted.

"Shut up, inmate or you will be a dead man walking," the guard shouted with a nasty bite. 

Shilah remained silent but only spoke with a deathly glare which the inmate that had taunted the prisoner took as a warning glare. The room which was radiated with dimly light oppression seemed to cause the lights to flicker a bit as Shilah walked down the hallway next to the correctional officer. The air grew damp and cold, as a soft hiss filled the cold and sterilized air. Leading the shackled prisoner Shilah walked passed the visitation room where he saw his wife sitting at a table waiting patiently. Their eyes caught each other's glance as she looked away swiftly.

"Where are you taking me?" Shilah asked sincerely as he felt a sting of dismay fill his stomach.

"I told you, you have a visitor," the C.O. officer repeated.

"We already passed visitation room," the captured Native spoke defiantly.

"I know my way around this shit-hole, I have been working her for the last twenty-five years, so you are going to shut up and let me do my job. Do I make myself clear, inmate?" Shilah tried to swallow the knot which grew heavy in his throat, as he sullenly agreed to behave. The officer, swiped his card against a magnetic door way which flashed green.

The officer pushed Shilah into the small confined room as two men who sat in suits sat at the end of a cold and steel top table. The officer shackled Shilah's arms to the table in the small ring that stuck out of the surface. He looked down at his hands then at the men who sat confidently staring at him.

"How are you, Noah?" One man asked as he flashed a sly but ominous smile.

"How do you think I am? I have been cooped up in Solitary Confinement for the last nine months and I have been barely able to sleep, so excuse me if I am not your ray of Sunshine," Shilah snapped back.

"Easy there tiger, no need to get hostile, we are here for you. We are with the NACJD or the Native American Council for Justice Department. We are here to defend those who have been wrongly convicted, and try to reason a bargain that satisfies both parties. Now obviously you deem yourself as an innocent man who have been imprisoned unjustly am I correct?"

Shilah bit his lip and glanced at the men as he shifted in his seat.

"You could say that, yeah," Shilah spoke softly.

"So tell me in your own words what really happened that day?" the first man said.

"Well, to be honest I don't know. I mean I know what happened, I just don't know how it happened. It was like my mind was transported back to some sort of era where I was given some sort of inhuman skills. Almost like a lost art form or something,"

"So you mean to tell me, that you killed two men—gay men, mind you all because you thought you were an Assassin?" The men glanced at each other before glancing over at the correctional officer.

"How long did you say you were locked up in Solitary Confinement?"

"Nine months." Shilah spoke softly.

"And how many breaks did you get during that time?"

"Fifteen minutes per day," Shilah spoke softly.

"That's a lie and you know it, inmate!" The men glanced up at the Correctional Officer, before he got up and straightened his tie, before walking over to the man who stood by the door.

"What time is your shift start....Officer Ramarez?" the man in the suit spoke softly.

"That is none of your concern," the bold, pig-faced officer spoke through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I think it is, I think it's everyone's concern. Nine months in Solitary Confinement with only fifteen minuet breaks within a twenty four hour grace period? Do you know that in order to function properly, the average person needs at least 3-4 fresh air breaks per hour, and being confined to a small space with very little ventilation is a violation of his basic human rights. So, unless you want me to take this to the next level of authority and possible investigation for abuse I suggest you keep your mouth shut, or as you have put it so nicely. "Shut up and let us do our job," the man glared at the officer, and straightened his tie before he returned to his seat and faced Shilah who just stared blankly in disbelief.

"Who are you?" Shilah asked still in a bit of awe.

"Your guardians, and we have come to take you home," the man said as he stood up with his briefcase in hand. Stay strong, Shilah, we'll be in touch," the other man winked at Shilah as he walked past him, he stopped briefly and whispered something into Shilah's ear—and subtle and inaudible screech of a Kestrel Hawk.

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