Iron Cross (IC)

[Avorez]

OOC/Signups
"The Iron Cross Mental Facility and Maximum Security Penitentiary the, and I quote, 'Most Secure Prison in the Country'.....what a fucking joke." The Wolf hissed from his prison cell, peering out of the window, looking into the night sky. "This wretched place is not much more than a teeming mass of guards, embankments, armories, cell blocks, and towers. A burgeoning bureaucracy that grows ever more by the day, expanding under ground and pushing for more ground to expand upon above. It sickens me, this rotten place." The Wolf sighed, no one knew his real name anymore, not even himself. He sequestered himself to his dark cell, pondering how he got that precise nickname. Sadly, 'twas to no avail.

He sighed and moved about his cell, looking out as a pasty faced guard opened his cell, several other guards raising their standard issue MP5s, trained and ordered to watch over this particular prisoner at all times. The Wolf raised up his hands and got his hands cuffed together, grinning while he did it. They escorted him all through the prison to the rec yard, where the uncuffed him and allowed him to move about for around four hours. While out there he did his usual thing, admiring and messing with the water tower, occasionally peering over to the guard towers surreptitiously.

He looked around and stared up at the night sky, seeing the stars in a new way since he had come to the prison. Sadly, it was to be here that his night time freedom would come to an end. He was only aloud out at nights, due to the fact that he was considered a...volatile prisoner to Administration. He was escorted quietly back to his cell, staring out the windows he sighed and curled back up in his cell, waiting for the right time to spring his trap and put into motion a chain of events that would for sure rock the foundations of the country and the history of this accursed prison.

[Soviet Ruk-Tsan]

(sorry, can't do a long one right now...)
Alex sat in his padded room in the psych ward of Iron Cross. He hung his head as a doctor walked in to do some tests. "Well, you're doing well. No accidents in days!" A few minutes after the doctor left, it happened again. Alex screamed out, nearly falling unconsious. A doctor and a few guards rushed into the room. The doctor saw Alex whimpering, balled up on the floor. He shook his head, "Poor bastard."

[Altruistic Paladins]

Bramwell was watching the water surrounding the island during his break. The guy with somewhat-wild hair was watching for two boats. He had been preparing for the arrival of these two boats. He was somewhat anxious at the thought of having to introduce one of them to the prison, as he was not exactly charismatic. The other made him nervous because he had heard that the person was experienced in Krav Maga, which really did not help his anxiety about the situation. The rough waters were not exactly kind to swimmers or people in smaller boats, so he was not wanting to have an accident happen when one of the boats arrives.

He soon saw one of the boats. Judging by the severe lack of U.S. Marshals on-board the boat, he could reasonably guess that the new corrections officer was the person being transported. As he watched the boat pull into view, he was starting to notice the familiarity. When the boat finally docked, the new guard walked-off the boat. She was taller-than-average and had short, brunette hair.

"Hello, and welcome to the Iron Cross Mental Facility and Maximum Security Penitentiary. Since I understand it is your first day here as a guard and how unusual Iron Cross is, I have been assigned as your guide for today Madame?" Bramwell said in a somewhat wooden manner.

"Bertrand. Okay then, Mister?" Ms. Bertrand said.

"Volkovich," Bramwell said.

"Let's just start the 'tour'," Ms. Bertrand said. Bramwell was relaxed to see that the person was not concerned with small-talk. He did not care for small-talk, especially with people he barely knew. As the tour went on, it became clear that she was previously a corrections officer at a different state prison. The final stop was the arsenal after the armory.

"Uh, Mister Volkovich, why are we keeping guns at a prison?" Sakura asked confusedly.

"I have never been sure. As far as I know, Iron Cross is the last prison in the United States that keeps weapons on-site and last multi-sex prison," Bramwell said in an clear tone.

"Wait, so rather than entrusting the weapons to people and places that will not be over-run in the event of a bad prison riot, we are keeping them on-sight and giving them to the guards?" Sakura asked even more confusedly.

"I do not understand it either Miss Bertrand. It is not my job to question this. I understand that this can only lead to bad things in the future, but I am not in a position to change it. Until such a scenario happens, I just have to be especially careful and hope nobody innocent dies as a result of a successful prison riot," Bramwell said in a professional tone as he handed here an MP5.

"I see what you mean. So, what is my first assignment for the prison?" Sakura asked.

"We have a boat belonging to the U.S. Marshals Service coming down here at 1500 hours. We have a new and insane guy. Just I case, I would recommend you keep your distance. I hear the new prisoner is skilled in Krav Maga, so I would keep my distance," Bramwell said in a calm demeanor. When Bramwell saw which cell the new guy was supposed to transfer to, he realized it was in the female wing of the psychological ward. It was now only a matter of waiting.

[Deutsch Sudafrika]

Sean walked the wall of Iron Cross watching the rec yard with his AI AWM F 300WM slung over his shoulder. He had worked in for close to three years now and was used to the routine. He would walk the wall for a few hours and watch the rec yard and then the wolf would be brought out he would stare at the sky and the water tower and then be escorted back to his cell by a team of armed guards same as every night. He looked away from the rec yard and saw a new boat coming in and he knew it was either a new guard or yet another prisoner to be brought in. The prisoners here were the scum of the earth from rapists to war criminals. He stood for a moment and listened to the radio and decoded it was a new guard he thought 'Poor bastard getting stuck here, only reason I stay is because the pay is good.

Once his shift ended he went to one of the armories and turned in his rifle. They couldn't keep the rifles but he did keep his pistol a Sig P226, after the armory he headed toward the barracks to get some rest. It had been yet another long uneventful shift for him. Nothing ever seemed to happen here other than one of the mental cases losing it but luckily for him he wasn't one of the guards in the mental wing. He reached the barracks and punched in the code on the door and walked in toward his room. He got to his room and stripped off his body armor and uniform and took a shower. After his shower he headed toward his bed to start all over again when he got up.

[Monfrox]

Nomad
Samantha Forset was in the armory, checking her equipment. She wore her black BDU pants and a small black t-shirt. She slipped on the rest of her uniform and stuck her pistol into her hip holster. She may have been new to the prison, but she was no stranger to violence and war, or criminals for that matter. She had plenty of experience out in the field and aimed to use it to her advantage. She highly doubted that anyone else did two years of Counter Terrorist Operations while still being on call for SWAT, but she managed it, somehow.

She walked down the halls to the guard barracks and popped a look in. She was new, and knew absolutely no one. Even that wouldn't stop the inmates from making their cat calls or gawking at her. She knew it would have to be ignored, and so it would be. She would not act out of her way, but she was not one for games like those. She was hardened and a bit sadistic at all times, to show that she wasn't messing around. The other guards would be best to not brag about how great they were compared to her, or she might just lose it.

But for now, Samantha roamed the halls with no particular direction set. Passing through just about every wing in the prison. Her heavy boots stomping down the way, and broadcasting her presence. She cared not, as it was just another thing that happened involuntarily.

[Goodclark]

Victor Christian was sitting in the cell of the psych
ward and he war the Iron Cross uniform as he sat in his cell thinking
Where did my life go? Victor seems harmless the first time you meet him,
but if you become his friend he gets sick thoughts such as, murder, rape and violence.
He is known in his hometown as "Crazy Victor". Whenever he could he would make a shank,
he was always trying to kill one of the guards, although he was never to successful in his
plans on killing the guards but Victor is very determined to do so.

[The Space Between Space]

Cornelius calmly wandered around the sprawling prison library. It was quite an impressive collection for any library, let alone a prison. But this [img]was[/img] The Iron Cross, not just any prison. As Cornelius wandered the shelves he carefully returned books to their proper position and smilled amiably at anyone he passed. When the reshelving was finished, Cornelius returned to the main desk where the head librarian, neither a guard nor an inmate, stood filling papers. "Good morning Mr. Harrison!" Cornelius said cheerfully. "How are you doing today? Is there anything you need me to do today?" The entire time, however, one constant thought pulsed in Cornelius's head: I WILL DESTROY YOU.

[Altruistic Paladins]

As Bramwell looked over the bay for the boat carrying the DEOs of the Marshal Service and the new prisoner for the psychological ward, Bramwell was able to smell the salty winds the bay brought in. It reminded him of driving along the rocky coasts of California on a motorcycle. On a more distant level, it reminded him of the beaches of Okinawa, which mostly had coral sediments and numerous pieces of coral. He did not want to remember that, as the worst day of his life happened there. Instead, he tried to remember driving along northern California's coast. Sakura was too distracted by the fact she had a gun in a prison to remember much of anything. It had been two years ever since she had last carried a weapon, and that was because she had a beat back then. By now, the boat was comming into view.

[Tarnen]

Joseph closed his eyes waving his hand to the music outside his cell, as if he was conducting it himself. One of the few things he enjoyed at his time in Iron Cross. The classical music reminded of his past occupation, he was a Doctor of psychology. Helping people, listening to their problems, had gotten boring real fast. Instead he would drive them to commit suicide, or murder. It was fun to do, he cause 13 suicides, 9 murders. Then he decided to join in on the fun himself, and he learned that killing someone is like conducting a symphony, everything flowing until the end. He was snap out of his dreaming when he heard the music stop. "Times up, doc." One of the guards said, carrying the radio away. He closed his eyes, waving his hand again, continued to conduct the symphony in his head. Picturing him killing the guard, turning off the radio.

[Common Territories]

Two Face sat in his heavily padded psych ward room, not knowing day from night, warm or cold out. He hasn't left the building in years and has been in his cell in isolation for months now, with the only human contact was the flash of a hand that brought his "safe food". A styrofoam cup of mash potatoes & water, no tray under it, no spoon to eat it, and still mostly constricted by heavy restraints. Though you can't really tell from looks, especially since he is a younger man with blonde hair and a handsome face as well as voice. But bellow that a demon lived under a monster, his second personality had "rage moments" that turn deadly for anyone around him. He's been described as being stronger then five or more men and to completely harm people during these moments of loss control. The last time he was let out of his cell he killed his doctor & guard and nearly killed the other aid, he ripped both of them up pretty bad being caught in a unlucky rage moment. Not to mention his calm side is just as deadly if not more calculating then his raging demon. Jason Wolfgang or better known as "Two Face" had earned one of the most scariest reputations in the jail if not one of the most known.

Finally a guard came to get him out for a visit to the doctor. He threw in the straight jacket and ordered him to put it on and turn around. Standard practice for the crazy person, he put it on to the point where his back was needed strapping and the guard came in and strapped the vest on tight. He took a cheap kick behind the knee of Jason forcing him to take a knee. Two Face had a reputation as a guard killer, killing already 8 guards in rage moments within the last few months before his isolation even in calmness. You could feel the room turn cold as Two Face struggled to keep control over the angry demon that was yelling in his head, "Do it! Bite that F***er's throat out! You know you want too." He did posses sharp teeth including two sharp canines, he suffers a tooth deficiency to where his teeth curve in to fill in missing teeth, the appearance of having vampire teeth. Though the last time he heard that comment he actually bit someones throat, just missing the jugular. He had to focus on keeping cool long enough to be put in the chair to be transported. A custom fitted wheel chair with straps to the max, holding back his legs, waist, chest, head, and other places. He noticed the 5 men armed with MP5's waiting in case he broke free. He was transported to the clinic while a few other lower grade prisoners were already being treated. They made sure to stay away recognizing Two Face instantly, being the crazed killer he was. That's when his nervous new doctor finally sat down a few feet away, as she was warned too stay far away.

"Well................. I understand it's been a while since you really left your cell. How have you been holding up?" the young new lady doctor said. She was at least in her late twenties if not younger with blonde hair.

"I've been locked in a emotionless soft cell for 4 months 45 days and 26 minutes. It gets quite boring in there to the point I want to kill someone or something. The food is the same thing and it never gets better since I can still taste blood. So why don't you just kill me already?" he replied calmly without breaking eye contact for a second.

"Oh well........... If im correct aren't you supposed to get yard time or some form of entertainment?" she replied confused on what to say as she wrote down notes.

"They don't feel I deserve it. I guess it's what I get for killing multiple people including my guards. I am after all strapped to this rusty piece of s**t aren't I? Hell they've kept me in that cell deprived of everything besides food and water for months."

"Do you know why you were in isolation? I think you know better then to act up, the more you do the less enjoyment you'll have." she asked and stated in a smirk attitude.

He looked into her eyes with a squint and leaned in as much as he could with his head. Almost like he was peering into her soul. "If im correct I ate the guards throat. In fact that b***h looked a lot like you." he replied with a grin.

"Is that a threat or are you just releasing frustration like I've been warned about?"

He leaned back with a smile. "Oh no I didn't threaten you. I just hate when a little cocky b***h thinks she's ahead of me because im the crazy killer strapped to a chair and on a death row. In fact why not release my straps so I can prove to you my frustration?"

"Nice try but that's not happening. I'll be sure to make them schedule you some free time to let out some of that frustration."

He noticed his right strap was close to being broken, all it would take is one good rip. He began twitching his neck and head downwards."You know what maybe your right. I do need to get some air right? Can you get this terrible itch on my neck already? It's killing me faster then this sentence."

To her better knowledge she got up to scratch his neck real fast and walk out. Big mistake. As soon as she got close enough he ripped easily though the weak strap and latched onto her throat with a mighty grip. He didn't seem the same, there was something different in his eyes and the feeling of him felt different. He had changed over without realizing himself. He was already in a crazy laughing grin as the guards sprang into action.

"He he he he. Now that I think about it I think I killed my last doctor too. Guess it's your turn now you f**king b****h!" he whaled over her attempts to escape his grip. The guards made it over and bashed his arm with their batons, taking a few hits to finally get him to finally release before she was harmed to much as she runs out of the room with imprint of that grip still on her throat. He was wheeled away still laughing and waving his arm trying to get someone or something in his hand. The minor inmates still in the room watched the whole thing surly expecting the whole thing to go down. The word would spread even more now as they talk about what they saw.

[Knoxcrest]

Nomad
Samantha Forset was in the armory, checking her equipment. She wore her black BDU pants and a small black t-shirt. She slipped on the rest of her uniform and stuck her pistol into her hip holster. She may have been new to the prison, but she was no stranger to violence and war, or criminals for that matter. She had plenty of experience out in the field and aimed to use it to her advantage. She highly doubted that anyone else did two years of Counter Terrorist Operations while still being on call for SWAT, but she managed it, somehow.

She walked down the halls to the guard barracks and popped a look in. She was new, and knew absolutely no one. Even that wouldn't stop the inmates from making their cat calls or gawking at her. She knew it would have to be ignored, and so it would be. She would not act out of her way, but she was not one for games like those. She was hardened and a bit sadistic at all times, to show that she wasn't messing around. The other guards would be best to not brag about how great they were compared to her, or she might just lose it.

But for now, Samantha roamed the halls with no particular direction set. Passing through just about every wing in the prison. Her heavy boots stomping down the way, and broadcasting her presence. She cared not, as it was just another thing that happened involuntarily.

Brian sat in the hallway, a cigarette in his left hand and an his Beretta M9 nine millimeter in his right. Granted, he was on break, but even while he was on break he'd made a habit of sitting against the wall outside of a cell, and always being aware of what the prisoner inside was doing. He'd learned that in Chicago, patroling the sprawling Windy City with it's dark back alleys where most crime went down in quite a cliche manner. The prisoner inside this cell was sleeping to his surprise, considering most at the Iron Cross were hardly sane enough to do so. He glanced down at the Rolex on his wrist. Only ten more minutes of his break, he sighed as he saw this. He heard loud footsteps down the hall, and as he lifted his gaze he could see who he assumed to be a new guard making her way down the hall. He nodded towards her, speaking in a monotonous voice. "You new here? Haven't seen you around."

[Monfrox]

Samantha looked at the guard who spoke to her with an almost deathly expression. "Yeah, and your point being?" She said in an unfeeling tone. She stopped and coked her hip as she faced him. Obviously, she was new, but she didn't care about it. She looked the man over from behind her helmet and mask and then finished with raising an eyebrow. "A 9 mil? You sure that's going to help you? Not wanting to burst your bubble, but that's not anything for stopping power so I'd aim for the head if you can." She said as she leaned against the wall.

[Knoxcrest]

Samantha looked at the guard who spoke to her with an almost deathly expression. "Yeah, and your point being?" She said in an unfeeling tone. She stopped and coked her hip as she faced him. Obviously, she was new, but she didn't care about it. She looked the man over from behind her helmet and mask and then finished with raising an eyebrow. "A 9 mil? You sure that's going to help you? Not wanting to burst your bubble, but that's not anything for stopping power so I'd aim for the head if you can." She said as she leaned against the wall.

"Just tryin' to make an acquaintance, lady. Brian Eddings, two years on this damn island. And yeah, I'm off duty, I wouldn't use this thing if I was on duty proper." he replied, his tone becoming a bit less bland as he spoke. "I prefer the P226 with the .357 SIG. Leave it in the armory though. Keeps the crazies a little bit calm when they don't have a too heavily armed guard sitting outside their cell. Makes some of 'em a bit cocky though..." he said, glancing towards the cell door, before stretching and standing.

"Guess you've got a name, huh?" he said, a smile slightly visible behind his balaclava.

[Monfrox]

"Name's Samantha. And here, take a look at this." She said as she took out her own sidearm and tossed it to Brian. "It was a gift from my squad mates after I led them out of the fire in an accident during one of our missions." She purposely didn't give any information, lest one of the inmates saw it and figured out who she was if she put them in here. In her four years on SWAT, she was liable to put some in their cell on this rock. She never thought as to how she got here herself.

[Knoxcrest]

"Glad to meet another sane person on this rock, Samantha." Brian said, catching the firearm she'd tossed to him after he finished, holding it in his hand before wrapping his hand around the grip, making sure the safety was activated and wrapping his gloved finger around the trigger, bringing it to his eye in a swift motion. He nodded, handing the weapon back to her. "Always liked the 1911. Stopping power and a decent capacity all rolled into one cuddly gun. All the better to kill these freaks with." he said, recalling the times he'd actually had to mow down the inmates, most if not all of them being impervious to any kind of pain.

[Servoth]

Dres. Rostin Ingerburg, a doctor at Iron Cross, and so been one there for a very long time. But he was very lucky man, Ingerburg had outlived all of the past guards and had out lived most of the phychiatric staff too. He was a pale man that looked like he was atleast in his early 60s or possibly later, he had greying black hair and green eye, which lay behind a pair of pince-nez glasses, he also had a short grey mustache.

Ingerburg was followed by a group of ten guards, one of which was carrying the doctor's gramophone which itself was playing the original Anything Goes. The group slowly made their way down the Phychiatric ward, as the doctor checked each "patient's" records, then he got to Mr. "Two Face". "Oohhh!" Rostin said to himself with glee, her was someone that need some real therapy, shock therapy as what Ingerburg thought was real.

Dres. Ingerburg tapped at the small glass window of the steel door enclosing Two Face's padded cell. "Mr. Face, I do beleive you are in need of some therapy! Would you like some?" He shouted at the lunatic.

[Altruistic Paladins]

Bramwell and Sakura were now standing at the dock as the boat pulled in.The boat belonged to the U.S. Marshals Service. As the Detention Enforcement Officers started to walk-off the boat, Bramwell was surprised to see who was the new psychological ward patient. He had remembered reading a few headlines about how F.B.I. Special Agent Makoto Jeon went into catatonic excitement at a shooting range and had shot another Special Agent during it. He had not remembered how exactly the case ended, but he could be reasonably certain that they concluded that the brief psychotic disorder had been the cause of it, and so was insane. He was confused by just how anybody determined that a good place for psychological treatment would consider Iron Cross, and would have fired whoever made that decision if he had any power. He had assumed privatization of the prison system had something to do with it, but he was not one for conspiracy conjecture.

For what Bramwell could understand, Makoto seemed well-adjusted. She did display any aggression if there was any, and did not seem to understand into what she was getting. As the guards and the new patient were walking, they all noticed the blood in Two Face's room. When Bramwell looked back to the patient, he noticed she had a look on her countenance that expressed a terrifying epiphany. As they walked, she seemed to be focusing on movement that just was not there before she started saying "no" on a somewhat frequent basis as though she was answering questions. When they finally reached her cell, it was odd. Sakura and Makoto both seemed unsettled by the results of what Two Face pulled. Bramwell was unlucky, for it did not shock him. Bramwell and Sakura made their way to the break-room. After that, they wanted caffine and sugar to distract them from what they just saw before continuing thier patrols.

[Tiltjuice]

Doug Tran paced in his cell, bored. He'd already read the allotted limit of three books for this week, slept more than a narcoleptic, and his arms were sore from doing pushups. The guards wouldn't even let him have a pencil and paper for fear he'd forge something else, so he just walked around waiting for something to happen. He'd heard things occasionally got rowdy at Iron Cross, before his transfer.

[New high charity 24]

OOC: I was accepted as the Warden.
WARDEN'S OFFICE

George Lau sat in his chair, he was the warden of the Iron Cross prison, the most HIGHEST security base in the United States, he was very proud of that, as he knew its security was of the utmost importance to stop the worst criminals the state could bring to him, and his prison.To which he would defend till his last breath from the scheming prisoners.

He laughed, as he put his feet on his desk, feeling a moment of bliss, that he was safe, he lit a cigar as he peered out of a window, a clear window, not very thick, but it had an interesting design. He looked out, to the water, then the court yard. He scoffed to himself; "Damn Prisoners, it's hard enough having to captain a ship..."

He put the Cigar out, and started to watch out the window, waiting, watching. George Lau always watched, waiting, from his five years in Iron Cross, he felt that something was going to happen to him, he was waiting for it, he put his hand on top of his clean cut hair, he closed his eyes, and took a breath, as he sat down, looking around. He thought he would take a walk, maybe visit the "Wolf" as they called him, an interesting, and dangerous person George thought, as he started to make notes, he looked at a photograph, of Iron Cross, a prison of hellish ways, "But it was a prison" Lau always told himself, when he had days of grief thinking about what was to come.

He got up, and placed on his Naval blue cap, and his coat, as he also took his Revolver With him, placing it in his holster, as he got up, walking out of the office, and out to the cells, where he hoped to get a run-down on happenings in his Prison.

[Common Territories]

Dres. Rostin Ingerburg, a doctor at Iron Cross, and so been one there for a very long time. But he was very lucky man, Ingerburg had outlived all of the past guards and had out lived most of the phychiatric staff too. He was a pale man that looked like he was atleast in his early 60s or possibly later, he had greying black hair and green eye, which lay behind a pair of pince-nez glasses, he also had a short grey mustache.

Ingerburg was followed by a group of ten guards, one of which was carrying the doctor's gramophone which itself was playing the original Anything Goes. The group slowly made their way down the Phychiatric ward, as the doctor checked each "patient's" records, then he got to Mr. "Two Face". "Oohhh!" Rostin said to himself with glee, her was someone that need some real therapy, shock therapy as what Ingerburg thought was real.

Dres. Ingerburg tapped at the small glass window of the steel door enclosing Two Face's padded cell. "Mr. Face, I do believe you are in need of some therapy! Would you like some?" He shouted at the lunatic.

Two Face sat in his cell looking at his hand most of the time when he got back. When he got back to his cell he was tasered by one of the guards so that the could have enough time to release him and get out. Not to mention the free extra kicks they could throw in. Though that barely stopped him as he got up and lurked around his cell until he calmed down. He had now changed back sitting down looking at the hand that had grabbed his doctors throat, not knowing if he killed her or not. He didn't really care anymore but found the blood surprising since he didn't remember any. He didn't grab her but then again it mite as well have been.

He heard the tap on the glass outside and the man talk. Though he didn't know who he actually was, he had heard of a doctor who was older and survived more instances then most doctors but he didn't really get to know his doctors very much since he killed his last 3 and now possibly 4th. He guessed it was a doctor since he mentioned the therapy. He laughed a little inside knowing therapy on him would do no good. He had went through numerous "therapies" and more then once too, if they did anything they kept the voice in his head quiet for a little while but it would always come back as fast as it left. Sometimes he even talks to himself out of sheer boredom, it didn't help his crazy status ether. He got up and lumbered over to the view, he had the face of someone who was a mix of bored and not giving a crap anymore. As soon as he reached the door he slammed his forehead into his side of the view, though they replaced it long ago with plastic because he did the same thing before, making sure he didn't hurt himself, others, or even someone outside.

"As long as it's fun mr. doctor sir. I am feeling dreadfully bored these days. They don't even allow me books or magazines anymore so life in a bubble is quite "crazy" you can say. I only hope it will be fun." he said last with a grin. These days he's split between two personalities and his normal side has given up on life let alone everything else long ago. His other side influenced the other more often each year, sometimes it's hard to tell who is really in control.

[Soviet Ruk-Tsan]

Alex was sitting in the clinic when twoface had thrown a fit, he was glad he was on the other side of the ward. The doctor was studying him, they had his head hooked up to some strange device. He opened his mouth to speak, but then it happened again. Alex was screaming and lashing out, and injured the doctor. After a while he settled, and between deep breaths said "Why me? Why?" The guard escorted him to his cell, and he walked in quietly. He sat in his room, wondering when it'd happen next.

[Flammaland]

Sebastian Forester sat in his padded cell in the psych ward, biding his time. He was playing a game which he called 'Kill, kill or kill' in which he devised different ways of murdering 3 different people. Today, he had chosen Justin Bieber, the man who ran the coffee shop in his old hometown and one of the guards. He decided that Bieber would be strangled, the coffee shop owner would have his head put through the coffee grinder and the guard would be shot to death with his own gun. Sebastian started picturing the violent acts in his mind and imedietly felt calm, he did so love killing. His eyes flicked open and up, it was time for a doctor to come to the door of his cell, that happened every day of every week of every month of all 8 of his years imprisoned in The Iron Cross Mental Facility and Maximum Security Penitentiary.

[Minzo]

Anon Cezar was at his post.He was getting pretty bored with his job."Uh....nothing exciting ever happens.When was the last prison riot?"He went to the break room to get a drink.As he walked,he passed Lucien Artan's cell.He stopped,looked at him for a moent,and continued walking off.

[Monfrox]

"Sane...right." She muttered under her breath. Her voice picked up as she refocused on Brian. "Freaks? I hope you're not talking about the inmates in this block. The psych ward ones are what you have to worry about. God, some of them give me the shivers." Samantha said as she took her sidearm back, twirled it around her finger, and slid it into her holster. She looked at him again. "So, anyone of the guards I should keep an eye on?" She asked nonchalantly.

[Knoxcrest]

"Every one of these bastards is a freak , or they wouldn't be locked up here like animals in a zoo for people to gawk at all day. But you're right, the psych ward patients are easily the worst. Government should just kill 'em, it'd save us the time and money or running a sht hole like this. Besides, it's not like they're getting any better, hardly makes a difference to them if they live or die." Brian responded, shaking his head in wonder of what kind of life it'd be to be simply locked in a room for the rest of your life. "For the guards? Most seem decent enough."