MidKnight: The Asylum [FINISHED]

Chapter 9: Lashing Out

The electronic buzzing went off and shook Harold awake from his sleep. He decided just to skip breakfast this day, he was still too tired, the medicine contributed to that, he guessed. He returned to his sleep, this time around, he dreamed again. Fortunately for him, it wasn't another crazy dream, this one was about his friends back at Blackstone City.
This didn't feel like a dream, nothing weird or shocking happened like when he would dream. Usually, something extremely violent, exotic, scary or just stupid happened when he dreamed. Not this time, it was just about Cara, Jacob and Leo living their normal lives. Cara was reading a book on her bright, red leather, 3-seater couch. Jacob was at his apartment, drinking out of a Blackstone Whiskey bottle. Leo was at home with his son and daughter, Luke and Leah, (still bad names, right?) and he was showing them his latest piece technology, some crap Harold wasn't able to understand. And Veronica wasn't anywhere to be seen. He hadn't even remembered they were still there, as bad as he felt about it, he'd been so busy with all of these mysteries that he forgot all about them. How could he forget about home when he was doing everything in his power to get back there?
But what really hurt more is that he'd been missing for however long and none of them were even looking. Did his best friends not care that he was gone, not the slightest bit worried? That made Harold's stomach bunch together, forming butterflies in his gut. At least they were happy.
He woke up to clanging on his cell door, metal against metal. He sat up from his sideways sleeping position and saw the security guard unlocking the cell door for Danielle.
"Hello, Mr. Marcus. Haven't seen you in awhile." she said, still playing along with the charade. He nodded. "Hello, Danielle. How are you?" he asked, giving up the charade. She stopped before taking a seat in her chair. She gave him a look, her face basically read, "what are you doing?"
He shook his head, holding his hand out to the chair. "No, please. By all means, take a seat. They already know about us, they've had people listening in on every single one of my conversations, meaning they heard you and me in your quarters, discussing strategies, plans, etc. That's how they killed my best friend, Brian. They just forgot to mention the fact that they'd heard our conversations, too. No, you know what? They probably meant to leave that bit out so they could continue listening in on us and use that against me and most likely kill you later." Harold announced, he wasn't just going to try and sneak it in a whisper because they'd find out eventually. He was going to announce it, so that the guard outside his cell, that he was aware now, was eavesdropping on every single chat they've had and probably from outside Danielle's quarters, too. This way, he could announce to the people in charge that he wasn't playing their game and, at the same time, he could fill Danielle in on what's been going on.
"Right, sir?" he asked, pointing to the security guard that was "keeping a lookout" over the railing right in front of Harold's cell. "Isn't that right? They asked you to listen in on our conversations and report back to them immediately? Huh?" The guard paid no attention to Harold. Danielle stood and ran a hand through her hair. "T-t-they killed y-your friend?" she stammered. She knocked on the bars, "I-I-I need to go." she told the security guard. He walked over and unlocked the cell, letting her out and she speed-walked off.
Harold decided to lay back down in bed and try to sleep, no matter how unwise it seemed. But he couldn't fall asleep anyway. He just laid there, staring at the nothingness in the ceiling.
He must've stared for a long time because what broke him out of his stare was the buzzer for lunch. He never got used to that buzzer, it was always so loud and sudden even though it went off at the same time everyday. He got up off of the mattress and pushed his cell door open and went through the line process.
He sat at his table and ate in silence. Usually, Danielle showed up pretty early during lunch and entered the Hall and they'd leave but he didn't expect her to come this time. And she didn't, he never saw that door open at all. He decided to just go back to his cell early and try to get some more sleep. He got up and dumped his tray and headed out of the Hall. He walked towards the staircase in the cellblock that led up to his cell.
Out of nowhere, another patient came charging at Harold holding a fist out like he was Superman flying in the sky. He let out something frightening, not scary-frightening--disturbing. It was something like a poor man's battle cry or something. Harold performed a Forearm Block, when the guy stepped back, holding his hand in pain, Harold did the popular Roundhouse Kick, swinging his foot at the guy's face and crushed his cheekbone with his heel as he put full force into the kick. The patient crashed to the ground and blacked out.
Two others, his buddies, Harold assumed, charged at him, but didn't swing. The first one held a straight arm out, aiming for Harold's face. He ducked and the patient stopped as soon as he was on the other side of him.
They were on either side of him, the 2nd guy, in front of Harold swung first and he ducked, coming back up with a returning Palm-Heel strike and a Crescent Kick for the one behind him. He'd struck both of them in the face, rendering them both unconscious. He looked around at the 3 guys he'd just knocked out and froze. He'd have to return to solitary, he could not survive that again. He'd tried to restrain himself from using Taekwondo techniques but these just jumped out. He hadn't gone up against 3 guys at once while he was here so it was kind of just a reflex.
One of the security guards inside the Mess Hall ran out and held a gun to Harold. "On the ground, right now!" he commanded. "This wasn't my fault." Harold said, trying to explain. He'd say anything at this point as long as he didn't have to go back to solitary. "I want to speak with the Warden."
"I'm sure you do, pal. Let's go." the guard said, placing handcuffs on his wrists.
"I want to speak with the Warden!" Harold screamed.
"You're not--"
"Hold on, Officer Mason. Bring him up to my office." the Warden told him, leaning over the railing.
"Yes, sir." he said, removing the restraints. "Sorry about that."
"No worries."