Waking up to the sound of metal clanking together was not something I had ever experienced, causing me to leap out of my new found bed. How long had I been here? I looked down at myself, seeing that I was in my underwear and a grey t-shirt. The surrounding room looked almost like the prison cells shown in movies; concrete, metal bar doors, flimsy bunk bed, and a single metal toilet. I attempted to walk up to the opening to see out but felt something pull me back. Hard, cold cuffs were around my ankles attached to the bolted down bed. A sudden feeling of panic overwhelmed me as I finally came to my senses. I was trapped here, in this foreign, cold environment.
"Hey newbie. Welcome," the male voice continues and I turn to face him, "to your new life." I grit my teeth at this broad statement.
"Who the hell are you?" I ask, stretching my fingers before clenching my fists.
"Your new bunk mate. X-9, but call me 9 to keep it sweet and simple." His eyes narrowed, "You're a pretty well built guy, aren't you?" he said, standing up. He was wearing the same as me, except his shirt had a label reading X-9.
"Yeah, sure. It doesn't matter. Where am I? Am I being held hostage? This isn't prison, I know that much. Am I being held for ransom?" I rambled on, almost incoherently. The man, Nine, as he asked to be called, stood up before me. He was surprisingly short, and covered in freckles. It was clear that 9 was young by his soft face.
"Wow," he chuckled to himself before stepping closer to me, "You're not gonna last a week in here."
A loud bell rung, almost sounding like a fire alarm but much shorter. In stepped a heavily armed man, opening the door to retrieve Nine. I asked my questions again, hoping for answers from the authority in this place. The man in uniform unchained Nine and escorted him out of the cell before closing the door, leaving me bewildered. I was unsure of what to do. Sitting on the bottom bunk that Nine had clearly claimed, I looked around some more. There were claw marks on the cement walls, along with the bed sheets being ragged. Are they going to come back for me? They must be CIA, this must be some vigilante form of punishment for criminals.
"Out of bed," an armed guard demanded, interrupting my thoughts. I had no idea now long he'd been standing there.
"Who are you people? Are you going to torture me? If so, I hope you do it fast because this cell is really dull and that's coming from a guy who spends his time in fluorescent lighting all day," I say with arrogance, only after realizing that I could be putting myself in danger. I had a tendency to put myself in dangerous situations with my attitude.
"Shut it, dog," he said through his harsh laugh. I'd screwed my chances of getting any answers out of him. Still laying in bed, I stared at him with a blank look on my face.
"I said out of bed," he opened the cell door, pulling out a baton. He stood, leaning over the bunk bed giving me one more chance to get up. I grinned, staring at his sad excuse of a weapon.
"Fine." The scruffy man jabbed the prod into my side, sending an electric shock through my body. I quickly stood up, my legs still twitching from the shock. I stayed silent as he pulled out what I thought was a black belt with some kind of battery pack attached. My brain was fuzzy while he wrapped it around my neck and snapped a clasp. He flashed a remote of some sort along with a smile before walking out of the cell and shutting the door behind him.
"Hell..." I muttered and laid in the bed, feeling my hands around the torn sheets. My fingers found their way into a hole in the mattress. Nothing. C'mon, hasn't hard Nine hid any contraband? Must be all talk.
"Is this place ran by the government?" I looked up at the guard, but to no avail. He stood silently. Looking past him to the cell across the hall from mine, I saw another person getting the collar-like object around their neck. It must be protocol. Slowly but surely, I felt as if I was getting a rough understanding. I was so naive as to what was to come.
Opening my eyes, the cell lights glared down, hitting every corner of the room. Thankfully, the bunk bed was shaded enough for me to get some shut eye. I had gotten no word about this place since my only chance of getting information was Nine. He never came back and I'd lost track of time. Two men in suits walked in front of the cell, stopping to take a long look at me. They whispered some dialogue back and forth for a moment before nodding and giving the guard some sort of signal. The door is opened and another guard joins him, both of them drag me out of the room against my will, although I didn't put up much of a fight. I'm not getting the hell shocked out of me again. They took me to a smaller room than the cell. It was dark with no lighting and damp. A steady drip is heard in the corner. The armed men dumped me into this room and shut the heavy door behind them. I was greeted with pitch blackness. No welcome from a friendly freckled face this time. I tried banging on what I thought was the door but there no response. I was going to be stuck in here for who knows how long, and this made the cell I was in beforehand look heavenly. I can't even see my own hands in front of me. I can't see anything.
After what felt like hours, I began seeing things in the blackness. Faces of people I've hurt, strange warped expressions and at some points, their voices. Closing my eyes did nothing to protect me, as it was just as dark as the room. Finally, I was let out by the men in suits. Almost at my breaking point, I crawled to them, grabbing one of their pant legs.
"Get me the fuck out of here, please," I begged, staring up at one of the well groomed men. He hooked two of his fingers underneath my collar and dragged me to a standing point.
"You won't be telling me what to do. Do you want to live?" he asked this question, knowing how I'd respond. I nodded, gulping afterwards. "You will behave and you will do everything I say, yes?" he asks and I nod once again, barely grasping onto my dignity.
"Who are you people?" my eyes gazed over them, not spotting a single flaw in their appearances.
"You're not in your world anymore. We aren't the government, that's all you're going to get from any of us. Now stop asking," he snapped at me and looked at his partner, "Unless you want to go back in there," the man points to the dark pit behind us.
"God, no. Is my cell mate coming back anytime soon?" I still had hope that my brief meeting with Nine wouldn't be the last.
"No," the other man replies, "You will not be seeing him again, now follow." He pulls a leash out of his suit jacket and latches it onto my collar. Is he really going to walk me on a leash? I feel like I'm in a fever dream. This was nowhere near being a dream. If anything, it was some distorted nightmare to punish me for what I'd done.
YOU ARE READING
El Perro
Science FictionA college professor with a sleeping secret finds out his entire life is a web of secrets that don't belong to him. He just has to remember his own.
