MidKnight: The Asylum [FINISHED]

Chapter 10: The Plan

Once they reached the Warden's office at the top floor, the guard walked him inside and left. "What did you need, Mr. Marcus?" he asked him as soon as Officer Mason left. He was sitting at a wooden black desk as big as the one in the White House. "I knocked 3 guys out because they attacked me. I didn't want that story to get twisted while I was locked away like the last times."
"How did you manage to take out 3 men on your own?"
"I have been taught many skills over the years. They just hadn't seen those moves before."
"Why did they attack you?"
"I'm not sure, I've never seen them before. I assumed they were just that one guy's friends."
"That one guy? That one in the world?"
"The patient--"
"That one patient in this facility."
"The one that one of my personalities, Felix, beat down."
"Ahh, I see."
"Yeah..."
"Well, look. No, you don't have to go back to solitary. Those 3 will."
"That's surprising."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you, that scientist in the lab, the nurse and Mayor Thompson have had this whole scheme set up from the moment I got here in order to take me down."
The warden laughed hysterically at that, spinning back and forth in his office chair, clapping his hands twice, even. "Oh, goodness, Mr. Marcus. You've had me misconstrued from the beginning." he coughed. "No, I've never been here to take you down. Haven't you caught onto the fact that I've been helping you? All that information I shared, my employees' full names? No, they have wanted to help Thompson take you down. Personally, I have no interest. In fact, you cause problems in this place, more than their already were and I don't need that. I want you out of here as much as you, yourself, do."
"Then help me."
"I can't. If I let you go, it'll be completely obvious that I helped one of the patients escape. You'll be found and brought back and I'll be fired and we'll both be screwed."
"Then how do I get out of here?"
"I have an idea, but it's going to require contribution from a lot of individuals inside this place."
"Alright?"
"So, I will talk to Dr. Owens, convince her to allow you to be pronounced "mentally sane" and let you leave."
Harold thought for a moment. It seemed so simple and he didn't know if he could trust the Warden or anything that he was saying. "What if she doesn't agree to?"
"Then she's fired."
"Oh, I see." Harold paused. "How can I be sure you'll keep your word."
"Mr. Marcus, I'm a figure of authority inside these walls. I have a reputation to uphold and I'm the man in charge. If I can't maintain order within this facility, I'll lose my job anyway. Your release will hold that off long enough until I can figure this out."
"Order? You're having the patients here experimented on!"
"No, that was only in the beginning, that hasn't happened to anyone in awhile. Besides you, of course. Dr. Walker wanted to and Mayor Thompson told him he could, I decided not to interfere, I didn't know who you were. All Thompson told me was that you were another crazy that needed to be locked up. Thompson seemed very off and I knew for a fact how crazy Dr. Walker could get."
    Harold didn't buy that piece at all. There was too much about it that seemed "iffy". He decided to take the chance, he would try and handle things if they went bad. "Okay." he said. "We'll go through with your plan."
"Good. To start, you'll be taken back to your cell by Officer Mason, he's standing right outside. After you get there, I'll have him notify me and he'll stay posted outside your cell, meanwhile, I'll talk to Dr. Owens and get that factor of the plan going."
    "Okay," Harold agreed, making his way to the door. "I know." The Warden said. Harold turned to face him, "You know what?"
"I know that you don't trust me. I'm going to get you out of here, though."
"You're right. I can't trust anyone in here. If I do, they die."
"I can assure you, son, I'm not dying anytime soon. I need you to trust me."
Harold did actually want to trust him, but it could definitely be a trap and a mistake.
"Okay," he said, putting his trust in him, "I trust you."
"Good. Now, go."
Harold turned and left, meeting with Officer Mason and walking back down to his cell. They reached Harold's cellblock when he told the officer what he needed to do. They made their way up the stairs, Harold stepped into his cell and Officer Mason followed through with the plan.
    Harold threw himself onto his bed and landed on a thin item under the thin, grey and black linen blanket. He pulled the blanket off of the mattress to find a rusty, steel scalpel underneath with a piece of paper taped to the side of the blade. He looked out at the security guard outside of his cell, making sure he wasn't watching before he read the note. He wasn't.
    Harold peeled the layer of tape off and grabbed the miniature, crumpled piece of folded paper and cautiously unraveled it. He wasn't sure who, inside these walls, would be able to sneak a blade into his cell, but he was glad they did, whoever it was.
    He read the note, which was written in a bright blue BIC pen markings--Harold used them all the time, he knew what the writing looked like--and there were few words.
    "I'm Sorry I haven't seen you, I'm still on your side--Danielle" It read. That was good to hear, but he wasn't sure if this was her handwriting. It was readable--she is a doctor, right?
    He stashed the scalpel in his scrubs' right pants pocket. He laid his head down on the pillow, and decided to try and sleep. He knew he would be unable to, but it was a good tactic to play out to see if this is a sort of trap or not. He needed the Warden if he was going to get out, whether he liked it or not. Whether Harold had him wrapped around his thumb or if the Warden was choosing to help him, he needed him.
    He laid awake with his eyes closed, waiting, focusing on the guard's footsteps and on his breathing, slowing it down to make sure it was believable. He cracked his mouth open to do make quiet exhales after each inhale, like some people do when they sleep and whistle through their nose.
    He waited patiently as long as possible, 5 minutes passed. 10 minutes, 15, 20. Nothing. This really wasn't some kind of trick? He opened his eyes and sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes and situating his hair.
    The security guard was still outside his cell, leaning over the railing above the rest of the cellblock. Not a trap...
    Then, a small, muffled gunshot sounded from a higher level of the asylum. Officer Mason pushed himself up off of the railing and looked back at Harold, who looked just as concerned.
    "Don't go anywhere," Mason ordered, "I'm going to go check it out!" He ran off towards the gunfire. Harold jumped up off of the mattress and grabbed the bars on his cell door. "Really? Where am I gonna go?" Harold yelled after him. No response.
    Harold, then, came to a shocking realization. The Warden's office was on a higher level, where the shot came from. No, the plan could not be going downhill. They all do, eventually, but not yet.
    He needed to get out of this cage, see what's going on. This was his ticket home, it could've just been lost. This revelation frustrated Harold beyond belief, he needed to get out, he was so close to doing just that. He began hitting the concrete wall inside his cell, so incredibly angry. He turned to the cell door and shook on the bars with his hands. He hit the metal bars with a bare fist, all force put into the punch and, surprisingly, no pain afterwards. His began to scream, screaming at the Mayor, screaming at the nurse who killed Brian, screaming at Dr. Walker for experimenting on him, screaming at the 3 guys that attacked him, screaming at Felix for beating up that patient in the Mess Hall, screaming at his friends back at Blackstone City for not caring, screaming at the entire world. When his screaming parade ending, he paced his cell back in forth. To the door, back to the wall. To the door, back to the wall. To the door, back to the wall. He approached the cell door and threw another fist at it, hitting the bars. He stood in place, frozen, when the entire door flew off from his punch. He punched the metal cell door, and it flew off...
    The veins in his right arm burned like crazy, not painfully burning, but a weird burning sensation that felt good and made him more hyper. What the hell just happened? This was not humanly possible in any way, this was the kind of thing you'd see if Superman was on House Hunters Renovation. This wasn't possible, nowhere near close.