Ultimum Carceron

Ultimum Carceron 18

Crimson Serpent gangsters had been loitering in the stairwell, pacing dutifully with intimidating weapons exposed, when Smythe reentered from one of the stairwell's countless doors, stashing his gun back in his pocket. Knowing this meant he had thoroughly investigated and cleared the indoor cemetery, his minions listened as he addressed them.

"We're done here," Smythe said. "We're going back up to the prison."

Nobody asked him about his firearm, though everyone had been clear on the fact that the sewers would be completely finished by now. With every room and hallway searched, not only was the sewer network cleared and under surveillance, but Ultimum Carceron had been searched literally from top to bottom, and Illopé hadn't been found.

Smythe and the others returned to the security tower, where dinner was being served in the form of bagels, toast, roasted chicken, and salad. His appearance, as usual, caused a mild distraction, while Rebecca Witz's disappearance had raised the concerns of nobody yet. He wasn't concerned about that, because before anyone could raise an eyebrow, let alone a suspicion, he would clarify the situation.

He entered his room, where the sepia blinds were shut, and his bed messy and stinky from his daily carnal activities with prostitutes, activities well kept from the knowledge of the staff. His bed was covered in a frizzly blue blanket that seriously needed a wash. On both the floor and his desk were an assortment of items: sensual clay sculptures of a woman who had features resembling his own surgical characteristics; there sculptures all had large lips, small noses, "S" shaped ink eyebrows, ect. They were experiments of erotica, their success varying on how much it stimulated him.

He tapped his screen, and in contacts selected "Warden Keung Song-Xu". He heard the bathroom flush behind him, knowing that any second his new prostitute would come out. He had been looking patiently at his bathroom door when the connection to Song-Xu had been established.

"Good evening," Song-Xu said. "Is this a report?"

"Yes," Smythe answered. "The entire sewer has been cleared. The drones have put up the cameras. Illopé isn't there."

"What about Rebecca Witz?" Song-Xu asked.

"The girl disappeared, courtesy of Illopé," Smythe said. "As of now Juniper and Jimmy are in my custody. What's our next move?"

"My next move," Song-Xu corrected. His skeletal figure made him look as if he were a Halloween prop, and the tubes coming out his nose were like tusks on a dead animal. "All but a handful of prisoners has been captured. This means that you and your gang have done your job to the best of your ability. You and the Crimson Serpent gang will be appropriately rewarded in two weeks."

Song-Xu ended the conversation, the screen flashing off.

"Help!" Rebecca screamed, unable to motivate her limbs into punching the coffin open. The pain from her paralyzed body had made her drag out the vowels, her plea sounding like five-syllable words. But enclosed in a wooden coffin, surrounded by close walls and a rotting corpse under her, she had been scared and screaming for what felt like years.

It wasn't completely dark. At the edges of the coffin were thin lines of vermilion, light she hadn't seen initially since her eyes had to adjust. Other than that, the only thing she could sense was Lin's body, accompanied by her worry of which limbs she was sitting on. She heard something squeak whenever she adjusted the little muscle left she could use. The effect was strongly emetic while imagining what body part she was touching; she would've liked to regain the use of just one hand for covering her mouth.

It had to have been hours since Smythe buried her. For the longest time, the only thing that existed was the wound's torture of her dying body; knives of pain had put her through a hysterical fit of twitching and screaming, not for help, but because it hurt that much. Only by this point, when she was frantically looking around her in her grave, did the freedom of thinking come back to her, albeit her body still hurt and sored with more intensity she could have believed before today.