The Alcatraz

The massive prison ship floated listlessly through deep space. So far away from civilization that the odds of seeing another vessel had become nonexistent. Even with all of the problems the Alcatraz had faced in the past few months, things mostly seemed to run as though all was well. Guards patrolled the cell blocks, kept prisoners to their routines, and the non-bridge crew simply went on living. A normal cycle that had been going on for what seemed like endless months? years? all indiscernible unless you had access the the ships own runtime.

Though the past few weeks a fresh annoyance was added to the list. Every few hours a garbled message would override the intercom, it wasn't the slightest bit decipherable, but it sure sounded panicked. On top of that, quite a few prisoners had become restless as rumors began to spread. The crew had no clue how the prisoners had learned of the warden's disappearance or the captain's self imposed solitude...but it was making many of them rather nervous.



Unfortunately, Felix did have access to the runtime logs. "Two years..." He muttered under his breath as he crawled through a vent above one of the many cell blocks. He was just there to fix one of the fans to keep the air circulating properly, but it had turned into a whole adventure of reconnecting wires and following a strange trail of minor sabotage. Eventually he ended up finding the culprit, some smaller human man trying to make his way through the ventilation system to...what? Freedom? What did he even plan to gain?

"Excuse me." Felix said as he tapped on the back of the man's shoe, causing a flurry of attempted kicks before Felix managed to grip both of the guy's feet. "What exactly are you doing?" Felix asked impatiently. He was gonna drag this guy back out of course, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I'm not gonna let them take me!" The prisoner wailed as he tried to get free from his own shoes to escape. Felix's grip tightened and threatened to crush the inmate's feet. "The Draughts? If they wanted you there wouldn't have been time to get into a vent, and you certainly wouldn't have made it far." Felix shook his head, of course he was dealing with a paranoid one...though he guessed he wouldn't find a sane person in a vent. "You don't get it, I heard they're clearing whole cell blocks now. I'm not gonna be dragged to the depths, no. Whatever's down there's gotta be worse than starving to death in the vents!"

"Woah woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves buddy. I'm not about to deal with a corpse blocking the climate control again." Felix said as he began pulling the desperate guy backwards. "The last one had the starboard cellblocks reeking for weeks even after we cleared it out. So...Out ye come!" Felix said as he kicked a nearby large door vent open and fell out pulling his screaming new friend behind him. A few nearby guards showed up and detained the guy as Felix dusted himself off and fixed the vent door. "Crisis averted." He said as he pulled up the work order on a nearby terminal and cleared it.

Something bothered him though, what was that prisoner saying about the Draught Sentries clearing out whole cell blocks? This was certainly the first he'd heard. With a few swipes he pulled up the cameras and glanced through each block until he found something suspicious. Several blocks had their cameras disabled...and it was going in a rather straight pattern.

Rising, Jasper's arms flexed chords of sinew and muscle under their taught flesh, a push-up in the exertion which the repetition had stolen all meaning from the act, the count left irrelevant. This has become his life, his meditation, respiration and methodical pace in the flexing and flow of blood to meet the demands of hungry musculature. Perhaps it was another layer of spite, the top torn from their prison jumpsuit to leave them with only the legs and the fabric from the seams of the former top in order to sinch it into place with a messy temporary knot. Glazed and rippling, their muscles rolled through their back with every repetition while their eyes remained locked on the door of his cell.
Today may not be the day, nor was yesterday or the weeks before it, and any promises of the tomorrows' whispered from yesterdays past would fall to a grace found only in the marks next to the untouched bed.

'Untouched' was an inaccurate description, the impression on the thin sheetless pad that served as a mattress hinted to a frequented kneeling-spot for the saint...or...at least that was how Jasper would see himself. A martyr, even, having moved the pieces for the check to be called, some time by those whose presence would leave more of an impact than the old footprints in an overgrown grove, once upon a time.
Easing themselves to kneel, he ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping it back and resting his palms on his thighs. It felt like ages since the door had been opened in earnest, the meager slot and the shelf upon it for which goods and nutrients had ceased falling to the floor, as none of the staff retained the stomach to come in and clean the mess that was left.

No brave souls.

A single overturned plate sitting atop a putrid black mass of what had been freeze-dried meatloaf, a year ago. Reheated and unfurled, sallow after the first week and disgusting litter within days of it having spilled haphazardly by the door. In return, the door's edges had accumulated rust from algae and lichens pushing waste liquids against it for years, a blatant defiance that threatened to melt down the very metal, given a few decades of such aggressive rot. The receiving port which such goods had been delivered through had since been welded shut from the outside to contain the maladies; festering molds still managing to creep around and past the seals. From the outside, the door to the cell was a horrific warning, appearing almost ancient in comparison to the rest of the block.

With all hope, the door would bind, the rust would expand, and the door would open, no more.

Cells.
Within cells, interlinked.
This cancer was the last and finest of my works, a threat to any who would pity and question the reason of containment.

"What's behind that door?" I would hear a naive voice, long ago, and a haggard voice simply replied, "Doom."
I only knew they spoke of my fate with the light yet hollow rapping on the door with the knuckle of a finger. It felt like an eternity ago, but that single act of contact renewed my soul. Meek and disjointed as it may have been, the simple acknowledgement was enough to pull me from my trance. No words were heard, since.

For a moment, I was alive, once more.
Then it was gone...countless repetitions ago...

Holding themselves up during their recollection, Jasper then sighed and lowered themselves, again, to continue their endless push-ups...a song teasing across their lips. To him, every time, it was a symphony of voices.



______________________________________________

The outside of Jasper's cell was marked with a collection of 'X's drawn by sharpies where the mold hadn't leeched through the seams, and under places were the fetor consumed. The window had long since been painted over and it was anyone's guess what transpired, within.

All was darkness—both upon the eyes of the sleeping Sapishte, and upon the camera feed of the scientist. All had been silent in the lab, save for the low hum of the creature's containment pod, the soft whirring of robotic arms carrying various measurement devices, and the quiet buzz of the aperture adjustments of the camera—now to no avail—all punctuated only by the occasional melodic burbling of the Sapishte's calmly exhaled bubbles, or a quick burst of the scientist's feverish typing. The labcoat himself sighed, frustrated, as the camera feed cut out for the seventh, eighth, or ninth time this week.

"More interference?" he speculated, just as groundlessly as the last time.

Sitting up from his chair, coffee in hand, he scratched the messy, light brown mop on his disheveled head and approached the bulletproof glass between his cozy desk, and the Sapishte's equally cozy (he supposed) containment pod in the next room over. The girl floated silently in the fetal position, immersed in the lightly greenish-yellow fluid. A shiny layer of black, tar-like mucus covered much of her body, though it would frequently change in both color and texture. The surface of it appeared to shimmer, as what the scientist knew to be many eyes rapidly moved through the mucus. The girl was dreaming, and as the dreaming shapeshifter slept, her body rapidly changed—though, only within the strict parameters that the containment pod would permit. The scientist allowed himself to be mesmerized by the sight for only a moment before returning to his desk, only to find that the cameras were still out. He shrugged. The computer's current operation was automated, and would take a while. There was no need for him to be here anyway.

On the way out, the doctor passed by the door of the girl's "cell." It was covered with many and varied warning signs, from the mundane such as "no smoking," to the perplexing "no metal objects beyond this point," to the mildly hair-raising "quarantine zone: organics strictly prohibited." Aside from the girl in the tube, the door was the only thing that added any significant color to the otherwise sterile environment, but those who worked there had long since developed a blind spot for it, along with the single door guard who watched the Sapishte while the labcoats were away.

Emerging from the secure doors of the "twilight zone," where the prisoners knew all of the Alcatraz's most bizarre freaks were held, the labcoat bearing the badge with no name put on his best poker face as he wandered somewhat aimlessly down the halls, walking by several cells and eventually running into Felix.

"My camera's out too," he complained listlessly for a greeting, peering at the terminal over the rim of his coffee mug.

More scientifically-minded than security-minded, he didn't seem too disturbed by the revelation that more cameras were going out, and was presumably only interested in knowing when it would be fixed. Eventually, his eyes shifted to Felix, which would confirm such a suspicion.

Yvene yawned loudly, stretching out her arms. How long has it been? Did she even care to know? Rolling her eyes she took a deep breath and started her morning yoga routine. Something to do while she rots away in this ship. Sometimes the thoughts of the endless void come back to haunt her but only for a second, before she tunes out the oblivion she can’t see.

Lotus position to..

She stared at the glass panes of her cell, that provided a clear look to the cells in front of her and the guards walking by. The whispers grew stronger over the last week or so. Dealings of warden this, or captain that. Her favorite thing that she had heard was that they were all going to die, that something was coming for them. It felt like a children's horror tale, and she laughed to herself at this thought. A bunch of hardened criminals and snakes in this place and they are all scared of the “boogeyman” of some sorts.

Though, those intercom messages did prick her skin a bit every time they came on. The panic clearly rang out in whoever was talking. It made her feel a tad uneasy every time. Though it could truly be just some sick joke. What else was there really to do on this finite ship except play some pranks and jokes. Stupid, this whole thing was stupid she mused.

Stretch and move to Viparita Karani pose..

Half way through the stretch set she just gave up laid there. The worst feeling of some kind of anxiety washed over her. Whatever was happening, something was going down soon. Either this was going to end and the prank would stop or something else would occur. It was useless getting a guard to answer her she had already tried. They knew too much and knew too well to stay away from her. They were expressly ordered too. Kind of hard to say no to a being that could transform into your truest desires. When she first was locked away she cursed and screamed for days, frustration of no one listening to her was driving her mad. She was so used to being listened to, and getting what she wanted.

Frustrated at her thoughts and the questionable anxiety of what was going on she puffed and sat back up, returning to her bed. Preening and fussing with her hair she stared, listening and waiting for any kind of news..

Typhon was experiencing a heaven like he never has before. He was back home on Vai’Ralu, back at his parents' estate. The entire place was his now. He was all alone and he loved every moment of it. After taking his former home by force he paced the halls admiring his handiwork, fire trailing from his feet with every step he took. Before too long the house was beginning to be overtaken by a raging inferno but he didn’t mind at all. Burn the memories along with the place. Make sure nothing was left.

He walked outside into the now smoke filled air, taking only a moment to appreciate the blaze he had created. It was a sight to behold for the vengeful Tulak. With a clap of his hands a chauffeur showed up to bring him to his ship. Riding in a luxury vehicle all the way to the docks where his ship was held, loaded up on the credits that he had taken from his family. This was the life, nothing could beat it. It was almost a blur but soon Typhon arrived on his ship. First taking quite a while to admire all of his weapons displayed on the walls in multiple places. His entire arsenal that he had spent years collecting. Every single weapon here had spilled blood at some point. Though nothing had a higher kill count than his favorite three. After taking plenty of time to fawn over his weapons it was finally time to take off and leave this planet behind for good. A new life full of adventure awaited him.

Suddenly a loud noise drew his attention. Where previously he had barely acknowledged much around him he was suddenly painfully aware that everything felt off somehow. And with another loud noise everything began to fall away…



Typhon woke up in his bed on the Alcatraz. It seems it was all just a dream again. A blissfully wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless. He sat up and tried to place the noise that disturbed his slumber despite being as groggy as he was. It sounded like it was coming from the walls? Or maybe it was actually the vents. Wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried crawling in there to escape their fate. The banging noises continued until Typhon was scowling at the walls like an insane person. “Shut up damn you!” He shouted. Or maybe he actually was crazy and it was all in his head. Two years in a place as boring and monotonous as this could do that to someone. It had to have been at least two years right? Either that or time moved incredibly slow here, it was hard to tell when there was no sun to judge it off of anymore.

At least amidst his grumblings about time the noises stopped, meaning they probably pulled the poor bastards free of the vents. Hopefully they weren’t handing him over to the Draughts. That could be a fate worse than death if the rumors were to be believed. With the amount of suspicious circumstances surrounding the Draught Guards as a whole he definitely wasn’t willing to dismiss all of those rumors he’d been hearing. Plus the gossip surrounding it all was one of the few things that made life here interesting for Typhon. He even went as far as to throw a couple outlandish ones in here or there for the hell of it. Always got a good reaction and he heard making the rounds for a bit after that.

Now that he was left alone with his thoughts once again he moved to a position on the floor across from the case containing his prized weapons. They were so very close to him all the time and yet entirely unattainable. It ate away at his very soul on particularly rough days but for today he just stared longingly at them. His hands ached to feel the weight of those guns once again, the force of the recoil, the rush of combat. The feelings were so distant at this point but just thinking about it brought forth the years of nostalgia from his career. He continued to study every curve and angle of those weapons so as not to forget them in the slightest. So that when the time came and he could take them again he could make what would certainly be his final stand. He knew it would happen one day, he wouldn’t be content just sitting here for the rest of his life. But for now all he could do was stare and wait.

@Heckno12@Emeth

Lying on her bed, pretending to doze as a commotion rang out, Ziola was doing what she did more and more often these days. Eavesdropping.

She stared up at the ceiling, the noise coming from above the cells. Two voices, one calm and controlled, the other panicked. Another inmate whose sanity had given out, by the sound of it - such happened all too frequently. Drawing on what little magic she had left, she heightened her hearing just enough for the muffled speech to sharpen into intelligible words.

"-wouldn't have been time to get into a vent, and you certainly wouldn't have made it far."

The other voice remained frantic with fear. "You don't get it, I heard they're clearing whole cell blocks now. I'm not gonna be dragged to the depths, no. Whatever's down there's gotta be worse than starving to death in the vents!"

Clearing cell blocks? The slightest furrow creased Ziola's forehead. She knew better than to take such ramblings completely seriously - being locked away in the literal middle of nowhere did strange things to people. Still, she hadn't heard that one before - and the whole situation had struck her as suspicious right from the start. Hence why she listened and watched for information as often as possible.

Which wasn't always easy.

"Woah woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves buddy. I'm not about to deal with a corpse blocking the climate control again." Metallic clatters, yells of protest. "The last one had the starboard cellblocks reeking for weeks even after... So, out..." The voices faded in and out of clarity. She sighed and pushed herself harder, but all she heard was the clang of a door bursting open, more screams, someone yelling at the men to shut up, footsteps. Considering it unlikely there was any more useful information to gain, she let her hearing dull to its usual mundane level.

Cut off from mana in this sterile cage of steel and glass, it was a struggle to use magic for any length of time, and said perception of time had probably become skewed anyway. Ironic, considering how hard she'd fought to keep helping people with her attunement - yet also karmic, considering how she'd used it in the end. With a humourless huff of a laugh, she shook her head, as if that would keep the memories at bay. They kept trying to creep into her mind, as if seeking a chance to destroy her, but she had to keep her wits about her. To the extent that anyone locked in the Alcatraz could, anyway.

She sat up, watching through the glass pane as a worker headed to a terminal, shortly joined by a man in a labcoat. They stood close enough that she didn't need her attunement to hear the scientist's words - a camera was out. There'd already been some talk of malfunctioning surveillance, and this confirmed it was a growing problem. She stood and headed to the pane, tapping on it. "Excuse me," she called. "The struggle just now... If I may ask, what happened?"

As she spoke, she took care not to let on exactly what she'd heard. Although she refused to show it, the staff here always set her on edge. Some of them let power go to their heads, dragging prisoners down the hallways and beating them just because they could. So much for trusted protectors, she thought. She doubted they'd tell her much, but if they replied at all, she'd glean what she could from their words.

"Is everything alright?"

It wasn't. She knew that much, and it was a matter of figuring out what was wrong.

@LuckyBlackCat@Emeth

Felix stared at the terminal, he grunted in response to the scientist. These cameras weren't going out due to some technical error...surely if they were he'd have seen at least a few work orders or something. What the frantic prisoner had said flashed through his head and he quickly tried to pull up the surveillance logs on the disabled cameras. Most of the footage from the minutes before the outages was corrupted or simply nonexistent. A few clips he could recover showed pretty standard operation other than a few ill-seeming prisoners coughing or what appeared to be medical staff checking on said prisoners before...static. Following the pattern of outages, this block was only about two or three off from experiencing the same. By that logic, and the timing of the errors on the other surveillance systems the next camera would be going out in a matter of minutes.

Felix glanced at the scientist from before. "First I'm hearing about these cameras cutting out. There's no information on it, no requests from the guards in charge of keeping watch on 'em. Most of these overrides are manual too." He said, even going as far as searching through the archived work logs. "If your camera's out, you might want to stay clear of the area or if you're brave go on and check things out thoroughly. If it's important enough to get worked out put an order in and I'll be by once I've got this figured out." Felix sounded nonchalant, but could feel a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. Something about this whole situation was putting him on edge. He calmed himself before flicking the terminal to the camera that watched the block that by his estimate would be the next one to malfunction.

"The struggle just now... If I may ask, what happened? Is everything alright?" Felix heard from nearby, probably another staff member, he didn't have time to look and find out. "Just pulled some guy out of the vent. He was trying to escape some rumor he heard or something like that. Y'know typical stir crazy prisoner." He said, not looking up from the terminal screen as the seconds ticked by. As the time hit his approximation and nothing out of the ordinary happened he almost just gave up...before the camera was suddenly accessed by another remote source. As said source attempted to shut the camera down, Felix managed to at least preserve the live feed without their notice. His attention was definitely locked back on the screen now, watching every detail from the coughing prisoners to the medical staff running from cell to cell. It didn't take him long to see one of said staff trying the door out of the block to no avail. This probably wasn't good, usually when the Sentries showed the staff was simply left to go about their business.

Moments later screams were heard from the terminal as well as gunfire. Felix stared on in horror as the Draught sentries didn't simply show up and start abducting prisoners...they were literally clearing out the cell block. Guards, medics, prisoners...all of them were on the receiving end of a slaughter. Felix's face paled as he watched it all unfold. Some of the guards tried to fight back to no avail, the Sentries were well armed and quite well trained on top of being ruthless. One of the ill prisoners coughed on one of the Sentries, who then proceeded to kill the prisoner and take his own life with little hesitation. Was it some sort of plague? Certainly the chief of the medical staff would have heard something if that were the case. As the slaughter finished, a few more sentries began to march into the room with high yield flamethrowers and burn the corpses. Nobody was spared, and as Felix rotated the camera slightly one of the guards instantaneously shot it with their pistol. The feed dropped and Felix stared at the black screen before it simply returned a 'loss of connection' error.

This was bad, Felix turned his head frantically listening for any coughs or sign of infection within this block only to hear nothing. Did that mean this block was safe and whatever the Sentries were purging had been caught...or did it mean that whatever that was had been intentionally spread to that block before they cleaned up the results? Either way, that prisoner from the vents was right to be afraid. Probably more right than he even realized. "Correction...Things aren't alright at all." Felix said to the voice from before, looking up to realize it was a Tulak prisoner and that he probably shouldn't be discussing this. That said, the ethics of keeping information like this quiet even to a prisoner were murky at best. Plus, it seemed they might now both be in the same mortal danger. The garbled message that played regularly over the intercom sounded once more through the speakers, now causing considerably more dread in Felix's gut than before.

He questioned the ethics of trying to escape this situation, maybe retreat a few more blocks up and figure something out? He wasn't able to secure a recording of the events, so he couldn't exactly prove what he saw. He didn't exactly like the idea of leaving all of the prisoners here to their doom either.

With all the commotion outside his room it was really hard for Typhon to relax. Not that he ever really got much relaxation here but he still preferred not having his solemn contemplation interrupted like this. He stood up and turned to complain to the guards, maintenance man, pretty much anyone being annoying who would even acknowledge his presence. But what he ended up overhearing instead was… distressing to say the least. Screaming, gun shots, the unmistakable sound of fire, and he could see a very distressed looking man staring at the cameras that watched it all. If it scared an employee this much then it had to have been something that threatened him as well as every other person in this cell block.

There were a few ways this whole situation could turn out, and almost every one of them was able to shake him to his core. The first and most likely option was they all get slaughtered without a chance to fight back while this man runs and probably inevitably dies anyway. The second was they convince this guy to let them out and they die fighting, since it was unlikely they could beat what he could only assume was the highly trained Draught Guards slaughtering people. The final option was get the spooked maintenance guy to free them and use the chaos to try and escape until they can form a better plan. That final plan probably would sacrifice a lot of people but at least Typhon would survive. And hopefully he could at least get this dude’s keys, if not make a deal with him since a guy like that probably has access to a lot of places on this ship and knowledge to get them around undetected. He knew which one he was going for.

He leaned against his cell walls and looked at Felix. The smirk on his face was betrayed by the panic in his eyes that he wasn’t able to properly hide. He gave a slight nod to the Tulak girl that the guy had spoken to to try and indicate to follow his lead if she saw. “Sounds like we’re really in deep shit now, yeah?” The fear on Felix’s face was incredibly evident as he looked around. Hopefully this one had more of a conscience and brainpower than an overwhelming majority of the guards on this ship. “I don’t know exactly what you saw there but it really didn’t sound good. I think you have a few options though. You could always run and hide, let us all die and try to live. Or you could help us out too, at least give us a fighting chance against whatever is causing all that mayhem. Probably gives you much more of a chance cause I know someone like me would want to keep someone as useful as you alive.” Typhon hoped that playing off of Felix’s current fear and offering to help him would be enough to convince him to free at least some of them. Hopefully more to add fodder to keep them safe.

"Brave? Not particularly," the man responded before taking another sip of his coffee. "But that's what this is for."

Reaching into his labcoat, he retrieved a small radio and muttered something unintelligible into it, then quickly received something unintelligible back that seemed to satisfy his curiosity. He listened to the story of the man in the vent, his eyes lazily glancing over to the grate Felix had just been working on, before looking back at the terminal. "Nice," he remarked, though it wasn't possible to tell if he was talking to his radio, about vent man, the lucky catch with the camera, or the taste of his coffee. By the time the sentries were burning corpses, though, his interest in Felix's work went from casual to deadly serious. "Bloo-dee hell," he exhaled, suddenly glancing back at the vent as the realization hit.

"You don't reckon vent-man is being escorted right back in that direction, do you?" he asked, though he didn't really sound like he was asking for an opinion. "I'd, ah, seal those exits, if you could—and the vents, if such a thing is possible—if it's not, I know one place where it is—" he rattled off, his voice getting faster as the adrenaline kicked in—much more effective than the coffee that was thrown, mug and all, into the nearest bin. "Gather anyone who will listen to you and tell them that they've got a shiny new high-security clearance, but they'll have to be ready to fight for it," he said as he flashed his badge at Felix to show him what he was up to, before taking off back to where he came from—the deeper cells where the freaks were held, and yet deeper in, to a place that didn't officially exist.

As the man entered the high-security block, he wordlessly motioned for guard after guard to follow him. The guards in this particular block were used to this, and would follow him without asking any questions—though they did give each other questioning looks as their numbers increased more and more. He didn't need this many guards to escort that girl, right? Motioning for them to wait right outside the door to the lab, he entered alone, rushing over to his computer. It was only at sixty-eight percent; way too slow. He thought for a moment. If this was about an outbreak, wouldn't they leave her be, if he left her in containment? On the other hand, if containing the contagion was a secondary priority to a coverup... If he had to interrupt this process, it would be bad, but not as bad as death. Still, he had a bit more time left to bide. "Barz," he barked at the door guard. "I've gathered most of the guards in this block outside. Go tell them to round up everyone else in this block and allow emergency entry to anyone coming through the door to block E. Except Draught Sentries—they're killing everyone, including guards, staff and crew. They are your enemies until further notice."

Barz smiled at the mention of his old mercenary name. A balding Tulak with enough enhancements to be mistaken for an Arraxi, he took the news of incoming Draught Sentries pretty well. "Hah! That's great news! I hate them fuckers," he remarked on his way out.

With a huff, Jasper lowered himself onto the bed after some time fruitlessly willing the ship to crash or something with all of the floor-shoving. Sitting, arms resting on their knees as his head hung, he stared into the floor and then his hands, turning the palms up. This was a lonely haunt; all the threat of what reminders were scribbled on the clipboard hung beside the sliding door outside. In truth, he couldn't tell if was even still there...and the darkness of their thoughts began to sink back in with that single spark to reawaken old demons and fresh wounds.

What if they all know? Lock the box and throw away the key, forget about the door and its contents, weld the door shut and nothing in his smooth metal tomb would change...for centuries.

The worry made his throat tighten up once more, choking back the emotions that had once been released years ago as tireless screams of vocal cords that would re-knit themselves fresh with every breath.

Forgotten~
Newspaper footnotes to be gawked over and then discarded~
"...How appalling! How Horrifying! Have you heard the news? Murders...murderers a-and..." Jasper looked up, thinking he heard something like a voice so clear he could have sworn it was right beside him. A palpable moment of stillness came and passed, waiting with a racing heart before lifting his hands to his face. Deep calming breaths dragged the seconds by, but the ghosts would not go so quietly.
All the lies~
Imagine the spin they put on it, even~!
Faces; expressions aghast with slacked jaws as they watched you do it, saint~
The trees are gone, now. You cut them down. You cut them all down with your own hands and drank their sap to spite their memories.

It was then just a brief flicker of a woman's face, contorted in a dislocated yet silent scream. Their skin a pale grey, pulled taught over the bones and sinew, beneath, sunken and sallow like the hollow, accusing eyes.

He was on his feet, retching and spasming even as he stretched to the tips of his toes, fingers twisting as they pressed into his face almost as if trying to crush his own skull. A soft gargle of a shivering inhale reluctantly hissed between his chattering teeth, the promise his ghosts demanded being made as his lips twisted into horror.
Yet...before his anguish could break the silence in another fit of screams, another sound made the walls gently chime. Distant thumps and pops accompanied by the screams of others from beyond the walls. Audible rushes of air being devoured by flame and the snaps of doors sliding open, only for the voices and noise to continue anew, refreshed by the next victim. This tangible stimuli was a sickening comfort...that the hollow void of space would house fates as awful as his own waking nightmares.

Jasper sank to his knees, arms swinging to the sides and dragging across the floor as his expression relaxed into an empty stare. If there were tears left in him, he would have been a mess at this point, but the bloodshot thousand-yard stare held a chilling reflection in the door of a repeatedly broken animal who came out the other end with an anticipatory realization.
These sounds were not stopping...these ones were quite real...and they were getting closer.

Standing once more, he swept up to the door, pressing his ear against the metal to listen to the sound of change. The world was once again alive with death; he was certain something was happening, and this singular detail teased the outline of a manic grin on the corners of his lips. The sounds were coming his way! The doors would be opened and...and whatever happened after...who knew?
The unknown variables set alight his senses as if shaken awake, his heart fluttering with a desperation to join the sound...to make more of it. The elation spurred a brief maddened laugh as he looked around his room and then down to himself. Any other circumstance, the promise of entertaining guests would send him to and fro to make himself presentable and prepare hors d'oeuvres. Unfortunately, his state would have to suffice...and the guests would have to be the ones providing the snacks.
Jasper shook the sudden pangs of hunger at the thought, easily distracting himself with equally unsound processes of contemplation. His mind swam with what his words would be, squirming and stumbling, indecisively, through a few terrible jokes as he failed to grasp the danger behind the noises.

Twiddling with her hair, Yvene laid back against the wall that connected with the cot. What else was she going to do? Maybe nap, maybe-..

Aw fuck..

Gunshots echoed through the cell block, screaming and just general chaos seeming to erupt at an all time high. Screams of terror were normal sure as well as the ocassional well timed warning shot. This, though, sounded as if there was either a full blown riot going on or the guards had lost their mind finally. Of course Yvene couldn’t really blame them. She sure as shit wasn’t going down without a fight in any scenario she could make up in her head. Her ears pricked as she heard some panicked chatter. She could only make our bits and pieces as they were semi-close and out of view.

“..at least give us a fighting chance against whatever is causing..”-”someone like me would want to keep someone as useful as you alive..”

She couldn’t exactly see who it was and she wasn’t particularly interested in whoever it was. The urge to get out of this prison cell rose in a way it hadn’t since she got on the ship. The first week was spent throwing herself at the door, screaming at anyone who walked past in a blind fit of fury. Since then Yvene had truly calmed down and stayed complicit for the most part. Not today, today was not the day to stay complicit. She called out to whoever was talking, either person as she wasn't sure who was who. Clearly though one person stood out of the cells with what she presumed was a crumb of power to release them.

“It would really, really suck for you to just keep us in here you know. I have no idea what's running through that little brain of yours, person I dunno but I hope you have a shred of morality. We might be criminals but we deserve some decency. Like uh, not sharing the fate of whatever is going on down there, and seemingly heading this way. So please?” She pleaded to the door, pressing up against it. Struggling to get a good look, Yvene slumped back.

Anxiety floods her body, making her incredibly nauseous. The cells in her body wouldn’t stop vibrating, out of fear and partial excitement. Something was going down, and something horrible. Though the thrill of anything other than a tiny cramped cell and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights brought a twinge of excitement. The fact of all of them might be released as well was certainly...A thought. There were no strong feelings either way about facing the rest of the beings stuck on this mechanical contraption. The worry more so laid on the sounds of death from the other block. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she silently cursed herself for not being able to keep her composure more. The promise of death tends to shake one up a bit.

@Heckno12

Ziola suppressed the urge to sigh. She hadn't expected the technician would let on much, so she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. "Nothing new then," she muttered, although she couldn't shake the feeling something was up. She slumped back onto the bed, looking away as she once again listened in.

Coughs sounded from the feed, along with the voices of medics. Some kind of outbreak? The need to do something kicked in, instilled in her by years of medical training and practice, but it wasn't like she could any more. Her days as a doctor were long behind her. Fists clenched, she enhanced her hearing again, to pick up what the medics were saying.

Just in time for a cacophony of screams and gunshots to bombard her ears.

She gasped and ended the effect at once, reeling from both overwhelm and horror. While she'd dealt with some grisly situations during her career, nothing had ever compared to what she heard now. The staccato of gunfire gave way to crackling and snapping. Flames. Another shot. Silence. She stared at the two men, the technician's face paling as he took it all in.

"Correction...Things aren't alright at all," he replied.

Ziola gave a grim nod. "That's putting it mildly, by the sound of it. Y'know it's all hit the fan when a paranoid guy has every right to be." She stood, pressing a hand against the glass. Although she fought to breathe deeply, and kept her expression as composed as possible to tamp down panic, she'd probably gone as sickly pale as the technician. Other prisoners called out, trying to convince him to help - as if he was at all likely to do so. Right now, she wished more than ever she and the others could put faith in the staff here.

Even so, there was nothing to lose by trying. "They're right. Please, listen to us. If part of your job is to watch over us, then it's also part of your job to make sure we don't end up as overcooked mincemeat." She edged closer to where her medical kit and surgical tools were stored, ready to grab them. "We'll all stand more of a chance if you let us out. All of us, including you."

Felix's fear bled slightly into frustration at everyone suddenly trying to tell him what to do. His color returning a bit as a result. This was why he had requested portable terminals of some sort so he could operate with some level of privacy. Of course, he agreed with the prisoners...But hearing several people trying to pressure him into essentially breaking them out was a bit grating. He sighed, slightly exasperated before deciding to respond to them all at once. "I'm assigned purely as an engineer today, not a guard. My current duty is essentially keeping the lights and AC running, not watching over your safety." Felix clenched his fist. "That said, it means I'm also not currently in charge of keeping you all in those cells."

With a few swipes of his fingers on the terminal that had started this whole mess, several cell doors opened as did the cases to their occupants' property. "Oh, it seems several prisoners have been marked as deceased. Must be something in the water." Of course, he immediately regretted this decision somewhat as he heard a sharp cough ring out nearby. He felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead as he immediately realised what that meant. He had Virtus run a scan of his own vitals and was grateful to see nothing currently amiss. "Okay, everyone in earshot. We've got a few minutes at most to get out of here and get to the medical bay in the hopes that we're not just spreading some plague to the rest of the ship."

If Felix had more time he'd get somebody down here to give all of these people a medical scan to clear them separately. He considered the random scientist's words from before. Releasing prisoners like this would be chaotic on a good day, and he wasn't exactly confident he could rally them to a cause of any sort. "Not like there's anything to lose." He said, shaking off his hesitation he began the process of opening the entire block...only to notice that the terminal had locked up. Either they were onto him, or things were kicking off ahead of schedule.

Felix patched his radio to the med bay in an attempt to reach the ship's head doctor. "Lea, it's Felix. I don't have much time to talk, but I'm on my way up there with a few prisoners. It's an emergen-" Felix heard the connection sever. Okay, they were definitely onto him. At least he'd managed to free a few people beforehand. That's when an idea struck him, something a mischievous prisoner had done in the first year aboard. He sprinted over to a seemingly random point near the terminal and ripped off an inconspicuous wall panel. A nexus of wires was seen, much to both Felix's relief and disappointment. The wiring in these cell blocks was atrocious, like the containment of prisoners was a low priority on a vessel with zero chance of escape.

Felix turned his stun baton to the highest shock setting and forced it into the nexus, causing a rolling blackout as a wave of short circuits forced much of the block and even the neighboring blocks into the ominous red glow that indicated emergency power. He felt slightly sick, it took him two months to rewire that block last time that happened. Obviously he couldn't communicate with all of the prisoners that his actions just freed, but them being able to grab their gear and cause some chaos would at least buy time. Internally he laughed at his own actions, within literally a few minutes he'd turned traitor and started what would likely become a huge riot. Then again, what were his superiors gonna do? Throw him in prison?

"Maybe if we can let Dr.Bursmir know what's going on she can do something about whatever's spreading through the ship. I don't know, this wasn't exactly in the handbook." Felix said. A few more coughs rang out further down the block as some of the prisoners realised they were free. As rough as it was to just leave these prisoners to the Draughts, it seemed that whatever was ailing these people was considerably worse. The fact that one of the Sentries literally took himself out just because he had been coughed on. Plus the flamethrowers being used to finish things...Perhaps these people were already doomed. Felix shook his head and cleared himself of those thoughts. At least his actions allowed them to not simply die helpless in their cells. That justification didn't exactly make him feel great about the situation, but it did allow him to stick to the issue at hand.

The dull, off-white lab darkened as the power flickered. "Shit! What is that engineer doing?!" the scientist yelled up at the ceiling, his attention forcefully drawn away from the screen. When his eyes returned to his work, he was rewarded only with more stress.

TRACE System failure. Restoring default settings until the error is resolved. Error code: 942.

"Why yes, of course it fails. Obviously! Poor girl, that maniac of a project leader gave her some nasty defaults..."

He looked up from his monitor to check on the Sapishte, only to realize that she was now awake, staring at him with eyes wide open.

---

Maji had been sleeping peacefully, dreaming as she often did about swimming in the ocean. She'd been gathering pearls, when suddenly a tasty-looking fish swam by. She felt her body painlessly break apart as she began to mimic a school of the very same fish. As the fish drew closer, thinking to shelter itself with numbers, the school of fish quickly reformed, and the Sapishte sank her fangs into her prey. As the carefree girl was enjoying her free meal, thinking about how much more fun this was than spearfishing, the waters darkened, and she looked up and saw the familiar, chilling outline of the boat—the big one, which brought the humans that captured her. Ah... a dream. That dream. Next, her body would become inexplicably weak, a net would carry her aboard, and the hired hunters would beat her, until they realized that she couldn't struggle. Rather than re-live that nightmarish moment, she decided she'd better wake herself up.

What Maji awoke to, however, was even darker than the sea beneath the boat, and more red than the trail of chum behind it. The lab was running on emergency power! In what she supposed must have been at least five years by now—judging solely by how much more old and tired the lab-man was looking these days—this had never happened before. Pressing her face against the glass of her containment pod, with a bit of a squint she could just about see the lab-man in the dark, and could make out what he was saying. Except... he wasn't so much saying anything, as he was just making angry human-noises. Opening her mouth to speak, Maji—

—felt a "snap" in the back of her head, not unlike the sensation of abruptly waking up to a loud noise. No actual words came out, only an abbreviated cry of surprise. She tried again to speak, and the same thing happened. Could she... not speak? The lab-man spoke again, louder this time, but his words were certainly complete gibberish. Maji's eyes widened as the scientist looked up at her, visibly upset with both the situation going on around him, and whatever was happening to her. She had no idea what was going on, and could neither speak nor understand. Was she having a nightmare? Was she going insane? Was her brain... broken? And what if the science-man couldn't fix her?

Tears welled up in Maji's eyes. The containment, she could handle. For the sake of her health, a nice doctor named "Lea" had recommended that she at least be allowed to walk when being transferred between labs—and though she didn't know the lab-man's name, she'd trusted him too. His experiments were fun—not like the experiments the other two put her through—but she hadn't seen either of them in quite a while. Neither of them could stop her from playing, and if she was bored, she could always sleep. Dinner was always a surprise. Life on this ship—called the Alcatraz, or so she had been told—wasn't horrible for her... as long as she didn't have to be lonely. But what now?! What if she could never talk to anyone ever again?! No! She would not stand for this!

Maji took a deep breath from her breathing tube, and braced herself for pain—as did the scientist, who knew what was coming: the piercing, gurgling shriek that an earthling could only describe as "a blue whale that swallowed a mountain lion." Slightly mournful, but mostly blood-curdling, whether it was a distress call or a war cry, only another Sapishte could probably tell. It echoed throughout the lab, and down the halls of the high-security block, still faintly audible by the time it would reach her "cell-mates."

Maji's hopes were briefly kindled as the lab-man's body language changed, pleading with her to stop. Whenever he did that, her patience and cooperation with him was usually rewarded. The other two nameless lab rats that she didn't like would just sedate her, of course, but this man had earned her trust. However, the scary balding man burst into the lab and shouted something, which caused the lab-man to quickly leave with him. Scarcely could Maji have known that other prisoners were being released, and his life was probably in more danger than hers. From her perspective, he had abandoned her just like that. Was she alone now, then? Could she not trust anyone, not even the lab-man? She sank to the bottom of the containment pod, hiding her face behind her knees. She cried a little... then tried vocalizing vowels. Then, a few other sounds. Soon, she was singing a wordless siren's song of sorrow and loneliness.

The moment she tried to form words, her mind would seemingly just fail to conjure them from memory. She would have to find some other way to communicate, for now. As quickly as she'd lost hope, she'd took hold of it again. She'd lived on the streets until she could afford to one day wear the white coat, just like the lab-man. She could be just as resourceful as he was. She could figure this thing out.

Their hands folded then readjusted to instead lace their fingers, trying to seem as 'upstanding' as the situation would allow, though as the moments passed Jasper's enthusiasm finally began to wane. A disappointedly perplexed frown became of the cheer that had tugged at his expression, and it was just about the moment when he took a breath to try to call out to the walls for an explanation...that the lights snapped off.
In all of his time, here, never once had the lights gone out. Here, out in the void, without even a glint of illumination from under the door, the darkness was an unwelcome absolute.
Without their sight, the world fell away, leaving Jasper in a sea of silent eyes; tiny lights in the distance as his fleeting mind played tricks on him. It might have taken more time for him to snap, the distant sounds gaining a more personal edge to them as they were all he could focus on, but the gentle hiss of the door's locks disengaging as they lost power was the final chill up his spine, sinking nails into his skull from an imagination left to fear the voices the silence would soon bring, being left at their mercy.

Jasper knew the dimensions of the room, and a single step brought him to the door, practically colliding with it in his haste to palm and press it in any direction he could evoke the contraption to yield, his breathing quickly becoming frantic.

Purchase.
Others had a head start, The Draught having backed up their advance in light of the swiftly deteriorating conditions since their door-to-door executions had become a full-blown riot. Two prisoners with bloody, dripping hands clutched fragments of a metal tray, using the torn metal as grizzly shivs on a third body that laid slumped against the wall. Judging by the mess, it had been a quick and vicious scrap, rage having claimed their senses as they were merely desecrating a corpse at this point.
One had the sense to turn towards the sound of sliding metal...and the wafting scent of copper and ozone that leaked from the room. Flashing red lights briefly illuminated the figure, within, in all of their stacked countenance, a raspy dry yet hauntingly feminine voice croaked in seeming greeting, "Gentlemen...~"

The man tapped their accomplice on the shoulder, earning a shove and a maddened bark of "WHAT!? WHAT THE...f-fuck..." as they followed the gestures to the emerging occupant. The three engaged in a gawking stare-down for what felt like minutes but had likely been maybe a handful of seconds. Flashing red lights, the brief moments of darkness, the distant mournful roar of what other monsters were contained down here, poor decisions were hastily made.
With a flash, the two moved, comraderie lost as one bolted down the hall and the other leapt for the figure. Another moment of light...it all ran red as the knife repeatedly came down. In the darkness, the two were gone, back into the cell that echoed choking wails of desperation and agony, accompanied by forked-tongue whispers hissed with promise...and a few sobbing apologies to accent sounds of tearing fabric.

Stepping out of the cell, once more, Jasper finished pulling the shiv from their clavicle, tossing it to the side and flexing with a restored vigor as the youth and potential of the criminal's essence was used to sculpt the once-druid back into their preferred form. The cuts and stab wounds swiftly sealed as simply as how Jasper used a torn section of cloth to wipe off the trickles of thick black ichor that had become of his dehydrated blood. For good measure and decency, they slipped on the tattered shirt the man had been wearing. Better than nothing, even though it was a size too small.
With the welcoming party having not shown, and the stand-ins being a bit less than accommodating, Jasper was left lost in a hall they'd only seen once before. With a dismissive sniff, looking over the mess, once more, hands on their hips and contently nodding on a job well done, they started off down the hall in the direction of where they thought the roar from before had come from. Jasper hoped there would be proper light and maybe a shower somewhere nearby, as both sounded equally suitable to ease the headache the flashing lights were causing.

Yvene fell forward just a bit as she was still slumped against the door before it clicked open. Correcting her posture immediately she stood up and looked at the open doorway, the reality of what was going on still not setting in. Gods, how long had it been since she had seen the door open? Since she was able to step out into the hallways? Not since they dragged her kicking and screaming the first time. It felt wrong almost, as over the course of however long this voyage was she had been trained into being complicit and staying put.

Before any thoughts could be formulated she heard a loud metal on metal clashing sound out before the lights suddenly went out. For a moment the cell block was pitch black before the red eerie lights started up again.

“Oh so it's all going to bloody hell” She muttered under her breath, letting loose a string of curses in her native language. Yells of panic and joy could be heard as she pivoted around, looking back at the equipment pod that staud tauntingly above her head every day. The only thing she had on her at her time of arrest was a small jeweled lanyard. It had a delicate engraving on the silver metal lantern piece that hung on the end. It was tiny enough that Yvene could store it in the most inconspicuous of places and it was not noticeable. It held no real currency value, not much anyway. Purely was a keepsake she liked to keep near and dear. It was worn and spots of rust that she could not quite remove seemed to spread across the old metal. It clattered to the ground once the pod opened and she dove down, grabbing it quickly. Smiling lightly she tucked it safely into her top and once again made her way back to the door frame. Why was she hesitating so much? She had daydreamed extensively about being able to wander around again freely.

Hesitation however only lasted for a moment before she went strolling out into the hallways. Although she wished it was under better circumstances, it was still nice to roam free. Even if death loomed just down the hallway. The metallic stench hit her nose causing her to recoil just a bit. It was hard to tell from the mostly sealed cells but out here it smelt like death. There was no doubt this was a do or die situation. She scrunched her nose slightly, before looking over to the person who set her free. Or at least who she had assumed set her free as they looked like a mechanic rather than one of the ragtag looking inmates.

“Maybe if we can let Dr. Bursmir know what’s going on she can do something about whatever’s spreading through the ship. I don’t know, this wasn’t exactly in the handbook.”


At the mention of whatever is spreading Yvene became acutely aware of the coughing that seemed to be resounding through this block. The pieces suddenly snapped together cognitively for her as she realized why this might be happening. Though not all of the information seemed apparent it was still pretty obvious. Truly also all the more worrisome.

“Oh. Oh. Is..this why the guards are clearing us out? I'm not coughing. I swear I’m not coughing.” She grimaced, moving to cover her mouth and nose. She recoiled a bit, moving closer to her cell door again so she was away from other people, least the most she could be. They needed to leave though. No doubt the “cleaning” would sweep over this way and she wanted to be gone for that.

“Okay. So the doctor. Where is her office, or the sector she works in? I rarely speak with her, and if I do she comes to me. We should move. Probably now.” She paused for a minute before laughing. “Oh and thank you for this. For freeing us, you didn’t really have to but you did, even knowing the risk.” As the last words left her lips Yvenes entire body froze, as all of her cells seemed to vibrate in response. A guttural roar seemed to echo through the ship. It wasn’t super audible but it still made her tear up slightly, the sound triggering a pure emotional response which was unusual. Yvene had to root herself in place to not go chasing after it, this distressed noise. She felt the innate need to do so, but managed to stay in one spot.

“We really need to go.”

@Heckno12@Strawberry

Blackness engulfed everything, before red flickers illuminated doors and cases snapping open. At once, Ziola grabbed her belongings and hurried from the cell, into the hallway. With the modicum of freedom came a rush of relief, although the imminent threat closing in... That was a bit of a damper, to say the least.

Just because they were all out of their cells, that didn't make this place any less of a prison. A prison that housed high priority criminals no less, all now allowed to run rampant. The stench of rot and rust drifting down the hallway, making her clamp her hand over her nose, served as a reminder that some people here must be pretty unhinged. There was nobody to trust. Hell, she couldn't even trust herself any more.

As more coughs echoed, Ziola's stomach clenched. She froze for a moment, wishing there was some way to assist those further down the block, but rationally she knew there wasn't, even if abandoning those whose lives were in danger went against everything she believed in. "Wow, flu season's really come in with a vengeance," she muttered, approaching the technician. His mention of Lea soothed her fraught nerves somewhat. "And sounds like a plan. You know, I used to be a doctor. If she'll let me, I can try to help with this."

Letting a prisoner help wouldn't exactly be orthodox, but neither was what the engineer had just done. Desperate times, desperate measures and all. Plus, for a prison worker, Lea was notably easygoing and open. Maybe it wasn't quite true that nobody could be trusted - out of all the staff here, the ship's doctor was the only one she had a shred of faith in.

Just as she made to follow the engineer, a whale-like cry from somewhere in the distance sent a shiver through her. A sound of pure distress. "What the...?" Her muscles tensed as she weighed the options - search for this person, but abandon everyone else, and stand little chance of finding them in time anyway? Or stick with the others and leave yet someone else behind? Next to her, a Sapishte woman stood rooted to the spot, staring in the direction of the sound as if struggling with the same dilemma.

"We really need to go," the Sapishte finally said.

Gritting her teeth and clutching her medical kit, Ziola nodded. "We do. Everyone, come on." They had to stay together, maintain some level of order amidst the chaos, and get to the bay as quickly as possible. Forcing herself not to look back, she stuck by the engineer's side.

Typhon almost lost hope watching the engineer, seeming as if his and everyone’s words were annoying the man more than anything. He was about to slump back in defeat until he heard the last half of Felix’s statement and suddenly the doors opened and he could get to his guns. He had to physically stop himself from staring for too long as he ran his hand over the barrels of his plasma guns. After taking a moment he quickly got to work gathering all of his guns, the tools of his trade.

It didn’t take him too long before he had strapped all of the holsters to him and attached his belt with his homemade gasoline grenades. Sure he couldn’t light them with his attunement anymore but as soon as he got his hands on a lighter these things would be incredibly useful. Right as he was finishing gearing up all of the lights went off before the emergency lighting started up, looked like his new engineer friend had at least a similar idea to Typhon and started what would essentially be a full blown prison riot that would absolutely hold up the Draughts more than unarmed and complacent prisoners would.

The sweet feeling of freedom, as fleeting or artificial as it was in this situation, was amazing to be able to walk out of his own accord. With his own weapons in hand. With his own goals in mind. Holding one of his gun blades partially out of caution and also because he simply enjoyed having the weight of it in his hands again he joined up with Felix. Two more had done the same, the Tulak girl that he saw before and a… Saphiste he thought? It was a little hard to tell in the red glow of the emergency lights but he was fairly certain. He had heard her talking before too but didn’t actually see her until now, but they now had a little impromptu group. And if that engineer had the ability to do everything he just did to help them there was no way he was gonna let that man go without tagging along even if he wasn’t sure about the other two.

He heard mention of going to the medical bay, and also seemingly something about an infection by Felix’s wording and the Saphiste covering her mouth. If there was some sort of plague that would lend some sort of credence to the Draughts slaughtering people but even then. What could possibly be bad enough to cause that much of an uproar? It couldn’t be some standard illness but he had no way of figuring out anything with such little information.

Typhon saw in what was already devolving into chaos that one of the prisoners was making a straight line towards the group with a makeshift weapon in hand. Whether he was going for the two girls as an “easy target” or going for Felix out of a vendetta against the employees he honestly couldn’t care. With a swift strike to the forehead with the butt of his gun he knocked the inmate to the ground, alive but definitely unconscious for now. The loud wail he heard at about the same time didn’t help to settle his nerves either. “I agree, let’s get a move on. I’ll cover our backs in case any of these chucklefucks decide they want to try and stop us.” He pointed his weapon at the crowd to dissuade any other riled up prisoners from trying anything as he allowed Felix to lead.

---

Lea had reviewed it multiple times— patients and staff as well as the cell blocks she never got reports from anymore. It was as if they had all just disappeared. It didn't take a genius to guess what had happened to them. They were likely eliminated for some unknown reason. Multiple blocks had already gone dark and the medical staff was getting more and more short-staffed by the day. They were dropping like flies and no one could tell her exactly what was happening.

The Warden had disappeared without a single alert. The Captain had decided to go into isolation within the bridge with a few, select crew members. Lea hadn't received anything from them ever since. Lea had lingered around the entrance to the bridge multiple times but after a warning, she stopped. Any attempts she had in contacting the bridge had been severed. It would have been nice if they at least contacted the other department heads before making any drastic changes in their routine. But nothing. The Draught Sentinels remained in their silent vigil and Lea could feel it— whenever something went wrong in the ship, they knew what was happening.

The Alcatraz was a prison for anyone on the ship. Lea just had the privilege of being able to walk around instead of being behind bars.

She pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, letting out a frustrated sigh. Less and less of her medical crew were willing to be sent out to another block, fearing that they would be the next ones to disappear without a trace. However, they needed to make sure that the prisoners were healthy. It was just reports of the prisoners coughing and she sent over a team to check up on them. Routine. Then they went dark. Then the next. Then the next. It all started with the damn, fucking coughing and they were no closer to knowing what exactly is happening.

As Lea leaned back on her chair, the intercom crackled to life. She sprung back, leaning over to listen to the message that was coming through.

"Lea, it's Felix. I don't have much time to talk, but I'm on my way up there with a few prisoners. It's an emergen-"

"Felix? Felix, what's..."

There was no way she could respond to him as the connection was severed, the silence of the intercom felt like looming dread. She stood up from her position, the wheeled chair sliding behind her. Prisoners? He didn't have the authority to let them out as an engineer. But if there was one thing that she had learned over the past years about Felix, it was that he wouldn't do such a thing without reason. With how quickly their transmission had been cut off, she could theorize that this had something to do with the Sentinels. She eyed the door warily as if expecting them to burst out and apprehend her for her communications with Felix. A few seconds passed by and nothing happened. Instead, the thundering footsteps of the Sentinels were rushing down the hallway, undoubtedly heading towards the site where Felix was. She opened her door and watched them pass by.

That was too many for a small group of prisoners. Did Felix break out more?

Lea could speculate all she wanted but she had to know what the emergency was. As long as the group made it to her office, then they could discuss whatever was happening to the ship. If they could make it there at least. They could be coming from two different sides— the area where the Sentinels had just marched through or through the use of the tram. Was it even still operational? Probably. She grabbed the emergency handgun that was provided to her in case of emergencies like this. She thought of proceeding to meet them at the tram but it might be too suspicious for her to leave, especially if their communication had been tampered with. So she settled back in her chair, waiting with bated breath until the Sentinels finally left her area.

Felix recoiled at the horrifying noise that emanated from the high security block nearby. Was that related to everything going on right now? No, that sound was filled with despair and pain...a broken shriek that resonated with something he'd locked away long ago. He shook the miserable nostalgia away at the others' words. The group had come to a consensus, it was time to go. Felix nodded at Typhon after he had knocked out a rogue prisoner. The fact that he hadn't simply opened fire on the guy at least made Felix feel a little better about his choice of companions in this scenario.

"We'll work on introductions later, it'd be suicide to just book it to the med bay. If we do, there's no telling what we'll run into. Our best chance is to use the tram, or failing that...fight our way through." Felix said, praying the piece of junk still had some life in it. The ship's internal tram system had been used extensively at the start of the Alcatraz's operation. An efficient way to transport the inmates and their things from block to block or move heavy equipment. Unfortunately after a few...incidents it had been retired. Like plenty of things aboard the ship, it had been clearly designed for short term use. He didn't bother mentioning this to the rest of the group as it wouldn't help anything. Worst case scenario he'd need some time to force the old girl back into operation.

While the group weighed their options, a loud blast was heard on either side of the cell block and gunfire began to ring out. It was just like Felix had suspected, the Draught Sentries had pushed their operation forward to keep the infection and the ongoing riot contained. Now the direct path was directly cut off. Wielding his stun baton in one hand, he guided the group through a side door that gave them access to the maintenance tunnels, affectionately referred to as the rat maze. "Thankfully, even among the engineers I'm one of the only people that knows how to navigate this maze without a map. Even if we're followed they shouldn't be able to catch up too easily." Felix said as he closed the tunnel access behind them, leaving the sounds of bloodshed and pain behind them. Of course he used to need a digital map any time he passed through the complex system of tunnels, but over the years the twists and turns became easy to keep track of.

Before long, they came across an old rusted hatch that Felix kicked open and hopped down into what looked like a dilapidated train station. The dusty poorly maintained area had clearly not been used in at least a year if not longer. The doors to the rest of the block were long since welded shut to prevent the sneakier of inmates from creeping into the large tunnel and making a home out of it. A few rodents scampered by, reminding everyone who truly ran these abandoned sections of the ship. Felix stared down the track towards the stern of the ship...towards the Draughts. He shook his head and realized that his low-light vision had been on full blast. This place had to be a pitch black abyss to the others. He quickly located a switch and a few lights managed to barely flicker to life, the darkness was still pretty oppressive but at least it would be possible to see with a little adjustment.

Felix could hardly recognize the tram itself, despite only being out of commission for a year or so the cheap materials used to construct it had rusted over heavily. He heaved the once-automatic door open and made his way to the controls. He hit the ignition and the electromagnets that propelled the vehicle shuddered to life as the dilapidated screen lit up with dim errors and warnings. He read over each one and deduced that it was at least probably still capable of movement. Even so, the controls were completely FUBAR. Felix shrugged and sat down before pulling the dust covered panel beneath the controls off and beginning to mess with the wires underneath. While he worked he glanced at the prisoners he found himself with.

"So, I guess we've got a few minutes while I work this out. I said we'd work through introductions if we had some downtime so...I'm Felix, engineer stationed here because...reasons." He said a bit regretfully as he yanked a wire out to be greeted by a small shower of sparks. He brushed himself off before getting back to the mess of wires. With any luck he could hotwire the damn thing and at least get it moving. Unfortunately it was mostly trial and error as each wire he connected or pulled had so far only done a few mundane yet random things. As the tram let out a distorted chime and the onboard lights lit up, a warped feminine voice spoke through the old speakers "De-de-de-stination set: Medical....Ple-e-ease keep all ha-nds o....the tram will be departing the sta... mome-me-me-ntarily." Felix hoped that it was an optimistic, even if a bit creepy, sign.