Artemis: Deimos Trafficking League (IC, 2-Player RP)

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

As Lynch told his story, Emily felt a great degree of sympathy. She knew how messed up the Starkweather PD could be. After all, if they could switch up evidence at her trial, there was nothing they couldn't do.

"It's terrible, what happened to you..." Emily replied sadly. "So you were also set up for premeditated murder then?"

Emily decided that it might make sense to talk about their past lives to see where they could have met.

"When did we meet? Maybe it was before all of... well... all of THIS," Emily said. "We may have ran into each other before somewhere. But the thing is, I don't travel. I was in Gladstone all my life by the farm and the school, maybe I've hitched up to Starkweather a few times. Could it be when I was a little girl? Have you been to this part of the country before? What lines of work did you say you were in?"

Emily was getting increasingly curious. Henry did tell his side of the story, but it wasn't the most detailed and she could sense there was more.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Henry Lynch

Emily sympathized with Henry, though there was still more than he was letting on. "Premeditated murder might be the correct term. However, a mass execution would be more than that. The police mostly assume I'm either a hitman or a psychotic. I wanted to satisfy myself in a bordello, but the owner might have been aware of some new skeletons in the closet, before I arrived. If you think that we have met before, you will be wrong." Lynch said, where he proceeded to explain with a strange answer.

"I have this... gift. If that is easy to explain. This gift lets me find people who I can easily establish a connection with. Someone I can learn from and provide some warmth. It's best not to confuse memory with connection, if that's what you're feeling, Emily. There are still things outside of here that you may not understand. Or even during your past life. For me, I can tell what is abnormal and what is not. It helps me with my hobby that I devote myself towards. My hobby is to be a part of the art. While I do things experimentally, what I tend to do is create images that I can have to please me. Photography is the correct term, though I consider myself an artist. What I do helps give me peace. There are many things in the world that alienate me, but all that I wish for is to regain my standing that I had established. There is a wound that needs to be collected, but what you revealed to me is not just wounds, but a sense of injustice that has cursed you." Lynch said, though there was a grandiose tone from him.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

From what Lynch was saying, Emily got the sense that he was some sort of travelling photographer or artist. She was a bit perplexed by Lynch's explanation of a gift that helps him with his "hobby." It was a all a bit vague but equally intriguing (and what does he mean with "wound collection"?). However, Lynch insisted that she not confuse memory with connection and she had no alternative explanation.

"I do feel a great sense of injustice," Emily confirmed. "A HUGE injustice. In fact, I feel that NOTHING in this world will be made right until and unless I destroy all those who have destroyed me. I don't know... does this make me a terrible person??"

Had she said too much? Could she wholly trust Henry? What if she was making a mistake here?

"I... I do feel cursed," she said. "With your gift, is there anything else that you sense about me? Anything good perhaps? A part of me still wants this all to have a happy ending."

[Main Nation Ministry]

Henry Lynch

"I heard of others who felt the same way as you, Emily. I did encounter one of them a long time ago." Lynch said, a bit of reminiscing on the past. "I don't recall the aftermath of that encounter. I do believe the person I met might have fled north away from it all. Keeping a low profile, where others just find and collect after their rampage."

Emily had Henry get another look of her, unaware of his actual "gift". "I don't know about a happy ending. The future is still unpredictable, but the injustice that you want to fight can lead to a domino effect. For better or for worse. Yet, it can still remove your curse."

Emily didn't know what to think. Henry had so much knowledge, but was it right to trust him? What would Glenn say about him? Perhaps there was a way to help escape from this prison? He can possibly help. He claimed to be framed, also. Unless..

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

Emily was getting more and more intrigued. This feeling that she had now, it just wasn’t like anything she had ever felt. There was meaning, a sense of destiny; it was indescribable.

“Have you thought about it?” she said, suddenly turning briefly to observe. The other inmates seemed to keep a bit of distance and there seemed to be guards visible. She suddenly turned back to Lynch. “Getting… getting out of here. Is that even possible? There’s just so much I’d like to do if I ever get out.”

She looked morosely down at the straightjacket and then said,

“Well… we’d need to get out of these things for one. I think my arms are dying. I’m already on their black list.”

For now, she decided not to mention the fact that she had already killed one.

“By the way,” she added. “The doctors here… they can’t be trusted. They’re not above trying to attack or intimate you. They’ve already tried to beat me to down one time; I know they took commands from one of the doctors. I saw them; there was this group and they wore masks. Animal masks.”

[Main Nation Ministry]

Henry Lewis

Lynch noticed how Emily was eyeing the guards and the other loonies, as she wanted to know if escape was even possible at the prison. "The only option I have is to get their guard down. They still think I'm dangerous, but I can act like the drugs are on full effect on me." Lynch said, as the two were oblivious to the clouds above them. Clouds that would begin to darken.

Marsh mentioned how the doctors and orderlies were not to be trusted, but Lynch seemed to already know this, due to his little welcome party he was given. Upon hearing the mention of animal masks, Lynch tilted his head down, as he let out a giggle. "That's even more ironic.. Before they started to drug me, I was forced into a storage room and given a beating. The ones that did it to be used animal masks. I didn't even get a chance to defend myself!" Lynch started to give a laugh, but he briefly stopped, as he knew how the guards were starting to notice their interactions.

"They might be onto us.. Both of us seem to be on this black list, but it will take a while for me to plan a way out. If I do get out..." Lynch made sure his smile was still on his face, as he gave a promise. "I might help bust you out."

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

“I see…” Emily said, catching on.

At this moment though, the logistics of any breakout seemed overwhelming. For one thing, they would seem to require more allies. Yet almost everyone else was likely absolutely crazy to the point of not being a reliable ally, or worse… in with the doctors.

Still… I must not give up hope. I am not alone. Not anymore.

“Be careful who to trust, they mustn’t know,” she said. “The break time is almost up.”

It was regretful. She felt like this was the most honest conversation she’s had in over a year… on this side of existence.

There was a buzzing and some guards were making the move to herd the people back in.

“It was really nice meeting you. I… I hope to see you again Henry. I really do!”

And she actually smiled. It wasn’t like the time she killed Appleholm, this was a smile of humanity… one with heartfelt kindness and warmth, the face that she often had back in her Gladstone days.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Henry Lynch

Emily wished Lynch well, as she gave a smile. It wouldn't be long until the guards and orderlies were rounding people back up to put them back to their cells. When Emily was nowhere in sight, Lynch started to let out a laugh, as they were escorting him down the hallway and back to his comfy padded cell. "Oh great, what's so funny now?" the orderly complained, as Lynch's nose was starting to bleed, as his grin was in a state of euphoria. "I found a fallen angel today.." Lynch muttered, as he continued to laugh.

"Inject him with a sedative now." the orderly demanded to a doctor, as Lynch felt a sharp pain near his neck, as he felt the depressive and energy-draining substance enter his veins. "We don't want any noise being heard from your cell, you got that? Now lay down. You are bound to be tired.." the orderly said, as Lynch stumbled into his cell, before he was locked in. He continued to laugh, however the sedative would start to kick in slowly but surely.

---

A day after Emily met with Lynch, the weather seemed to have gotten a mind of it's own. While clouds weren't uncommon, it wasn't until it would start a downpour was when the mood all around Starkweather would get gloomy. The storm appeared to last for days and onwards, as rain was falling to the ground, as there was the occasionally lightning strike every now and then. When Judith Kernan got back to Starkweather after arriving from the airport, she had gotten the news of Kay Appleholm's death, as she was given news about the other violent patient in the psych ward. Judith couldn't help but smirk at the mention of Appleholm, seeing that he was dead. He was always incompetent. Hearing the news made her feel relieved.

"You're saying that Emily Marsh had suddenly attacked Appleholm?" Judith asked one of the orderlies, who witnessed what happened. "Appleholm wanted us to cover the whole gym in mud and dirt. He said it was a part of kinetic therapy, where Emily had to clean it. She must have remembered something, because she killed him when his guard was down." the orderly explained, as they were still trying to make sure the gymnasium was clean, even though it has been abandoned for several years. Not that it needed any good use.

"Where is she now?" Judith asked him. "She's in her cell. We added some extra precautions on her. We don't want her to start killing orderlies. We had to get any future doctors cancelled, until you showed up."
"No need for doctors. I think work for her is done. She's clearly a threat to this society."
"Any changes to her medicine?"

"Medicine? Hmmm.." Judith was trying to think on what would be best for Emily, since she was no longer deemed a reliable source. "How is our equipment on shock therapy? It has been a while, since that last patient was too weak. We don't want another accident. Surely, a week would be enough to do another patient.." Judith said, referring the electroshock therapy room in the psych ward of the prison. The brutal mistreatment by the orderlies weren't the prison's dirtiest secret. Starkweather Correctional Facility happened to have a room that dealt with shock therapy. Many people who were aware of the bedlam houses of the past would know that such equipment for therapy was illegal.

However, it was still legal realistic. What made the electroshock therapy in Starkweather illegal was due to the outdated equipment used. Patients could accidently get twice the shock they were meant to receive, but the doctors didn't care. Accidents happen, didn't they? A strange statement to say when a safety inspection would bring up the obviously faulty equipment that could nearly kill the receiver for ECT.

"Actually, we do have another problem in the psych ward." the orderly brought up the issue with "John Doe", as Judith listened in. "What is it?"
"While you were away, some maniac was shipped here from Starkweather. Very fucked up. Half of the prison security at the other end of the correctional facility think he's extremely dangerous and that he should be transferred back to maximum security."
"What did this maniac do?"
"He got caught in a whorehouse massacre, but he killed several cops when trying to resist custody. They all think he might be possessed by the fucking devil."

Judith thought about it, where she had some ideas. "I want to showcase how we deal with threats.. I expect heavy treatment towards the other patients by the end of the week! Use whatever method necessary, including our electroshock therapy! Is that understood?" Judith said, as the orderly nodded. "Y-Yes, Kernan."
"Good. I don't want any issues, as I expect them to be dealt with." Judith said, knowing that her job might be easier, now that she was back at Starkweather.

---

Rick Pearson

"BUT I WANT IT!!!!" Rick's nephew Peter said, as Rick was trying to have a phone call with Pabari over the topic of NXK. "Ignore that, Pabari. The drug is enough to start a monopoly. We're pushing for more shipments from the lab at the dockyard and at the slaughterhouse." Pearson said, as he locked himself in the bedroom, as that brat Peter didn't disturb him.

"We already have Tim's crazy brother George being in charge of the slaughterhouse, but things are still peaceful at the dockyard. The nightclub I brought could be a hotspot to get more clients for the drug." Pabari said, as he was busy at the drug lab at the dockyard in Starkweather. There was another drug lab that was in Gladstone, but Vinnie had some of his own men guard it. There was also the new drug lab at the church, but Pearson needed to pay a visit with one priest. "The newest batch of NXK should have more of the hallucinogenic properties of NXE, yes? It isn't just a fine art edition of LSD, but we need to keep getting the customer hooked." Rick said, as Vinnie was explaining some of the side-effects that were mentioned with the previous test batch known as NXE.

"The drug does have some long-term potency. It affects the brain too hard, though. You're going to give them amnesia after taking the drug, then they will get themselves in a time loop, Pearson." Pabari joked to Pearson, as Rick heard Peter banging on the door of the bathroom. "A lot of people are saying that the miracle drug is causing people to go murder-crazy, but that isn't stopping sales. I gotta go. I need to check in with Timothy. He's always looking like he's on the verge of going soft. Make sure you don't touch that drug. We need clearer minds and less fools! Bye!" Rick hung up, as he was forced to open the door, as Peter was screaming for Rick's attention.

"I WANT IT!" Peter said, as Rick felt a headache already. "Could you shut the hell up, already? No wonder your parents ditched you to me." Rick said, as he was growing frustrated. Rick's apartment wasn't anything special. It was in a quiet part of the city, but he used to have it all. He had a family. He was a part of one, once. Until his grandmother stole him to which she spent her days drinking booze. When Rick was old enough, he left the hag, as he tried to do what everyone else was trying to do. Start a family. The problem was that when he did just that, it didn't turn out to be as good as he hoped. He got divorced later, where he never had the chance to meet his children.

Unless it was a problem with himself, he didn't want to admit it. He has a job and he needs to do it. He was never able to feel anything similar to compassion. There were things he saw as meaningless. Such as trying to babysit his nephew Peter, who his parents forced upon Pearson for a business trip. Pearson doubted it was even for a business trip. Peter was an annoying 12-year old who liked to use his mother's credit card on microtransactions in the phone apps he plays, where he would also use the internet without parental supervision. Occasionally, Rick would saw that Peter was watching an uncensored beheading or even some random animal smut. It wasn't Rick's problem. Rick knew exactly what to do to get Peter to shut the fuck up.

Going to the fridge, Rick grabbed a large glass bottle of beer and had Peter drink it like it was a baby bottle of milk. Peter looked like he was going to gag, as Rick forced him to keep drinking it, until he went silent. Peter's face turned green from nausea, as he was starting to gag. "If you're going to throw up, do it in the toilet! You annoy me again, you're finishing the bottle, you annoying little shit!" Rick said, as Peter ran into the bathroom, as Pearson sat in the living room, jaded.

---

Pearson was in his bed, as his eyes were still open. He was trying to think about how the whole drug operation will play out. After feeding Peter some fast food for dinner, he did get a call from one of Pabari's men that some people, mostly dipshits from PETA, were trying to trespass onto the slaughterhouse in Gladstone to free some lambs. Gladstone was supposed to die. Like the rest of them. They were doing nothing, but middling with his affairs. Don't these jackasses know he had important business to do?

His room was darkening, as the rain can be heard outside his window, until the door to his bedroom opened. It was Peter. He was standing there with his pajamas, as Rick tilted his head. "What do you want? I'm about to go to sleep." Rick said in an apathetic manner, until Peter said something unexpected.

"Uncle Rick. There is a girl in the bathroom."

Rick sat up from the bed, hearing Peter's response. "...What?"
"There is a girl in the bathroom, Uncle Rick." Peter said, as Pearson got out of the bed. He got his pistol from his sock drawer, as he got his gun ready. The door to the bathroom was slightly closed, as there was a gap in the door that showed the mirror inside. Rick peeked through the gap in the door, as the bathroom was completely dark. He pushed the door open slightly, as he aimed his gun. Using a free hand, he reached in to flick on the light switch. The bathroom lit up, as Rick looked in the mirror again through the gap. There wasn't anyone inside, but there was the shower curtain that was closed.

Getting his gun ready, he entered the bedroom. There was no other way to hide, as Rick aimed pistol at the shower curtain. Using another hand, he immediately pulled it open..

To which there was no one there. "What girl? Peter, what are you saying?!" Pearson got immediately annoyed, as he became tense for no reason. "She was in the mirror, Uncle Rick." Peter said, as Rick focused his attention to the little shit, which he viewed him as. "Get the fuck to bed, or I get that bottle again!" Rick demanded, obviously angry. Peter was intimidated enough to return to his bedroom, as Rick shut off the light in the bathroom. However, as he was still in the bathroom, he took another glance at the mirror, where he saw someone standing directly behind him in the bathtub which the shower curtain was covering. There was a young woman, who looked like the hollowed corpse of a hooker, staring black daggers at Rick. There was a large hole in her forehead, as a streak of blood dripped between her dead empty black eyes. Her risque dress was soaked in blood, where her wrists were restrained with a zip tie.

Rick immediately turned around to see that there was nothing behind him in the shower. He turned back around to see that the woman had vanished in the mirror. He got his gun ready, as he immediately left the bathroom. Peter had already gone to his bedroom, as Rick proceeded to lock the bathroom, unaware if Peter might try to use it at night to use the toilet. As Rick went back to his bed, he made sure to keep his gun at the bedside table on the edge of the bed he was sleeping at, as he had one eye open, staring at the bedroom door, as it remained closed. The lack of the door opening helped calm him, as he drifted off into sleep, as the rain can be heard pounding on the window.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

Emily was back in the Dream World. She stood facing the unusually-pale Glenn across the field of coniferous trees, the muddy earth and the messy spread of the multi-coloured mushrooms. That river of red next to them seemed to be unusually thick and dense…

“And you think we can trust him?” Glenn asked.

“Well… I don’t know, I just feel… a sort of connection,” Emily said, looking down at her hands. “It’s hard to explain. It’s almost like… I’ve MET him before.”

“Well… be on your guard Emily,” Glenn said. “Don’t be TOO trusting. Remember where that got you the last time.”

Emily looked up. “Yes but I don’t know… he said we never met. He said I’m confusing connection with memory.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Glenn asked, frowning a bit.

“I don’t know,” Emily admitted. “Glenn… you’ve been on the other side. Can you tell me… is there such a thing as fate?”

Glenn considered her. “If you’re going there, I’m in many ways just as lost as you. I’m afraid I don’t have the answers.”

Emily was a bit sad about that.

“I’m not sure you should trust him,” Glenn said, but then he added, “However, your number one priority has to be… to get out of Starkweather Facility, whatever it takes. And you’re going to have to take limited gambits from time to time. You need allies. As far as the odds go, this might not be a bad bet. For now, we can count him as a tentative ally.”

Emily nodded.

“Let’s go over the list again,” Glenn said.

“Right,” Emily said.

She began to count with her fingers as she listed the names. In her blood-thirsty obsessions she had begun to give the six unnamed mercenaries nicknames… as if in some sense granting her a degree of increased control over the situation:

The Cruel Elder
The False Guards
The Filthy
The Chinaman
The Meat Crusher

The term “The Hidden” came to represent all the additional hidden enemies, scattered throughout the mental institution, the police, the judiciary, perhaps the elected government itself, who can say?

She began to recite obsessively…

“Schaeffer… the Cruel Elder… the False Guards… the Filthy… the Chinaman… the Meat Crusher… Donovan… Umbridge… Ondowski … the Hidden … … Schaeffer… the Cruel Elder… the False Guards… the Filthy… the Chinaman… the Meat Crusher… Donovan… Umbridge… Ondowski … the Hidden … … Schaeffer… the Cruel Elder… the False Guards… the Filthy… the Chinaman… the Meat Crusher… Donovan… Umbridge… Ondowski … the Hidden … …”

It was like some surreal voodoo chant, as if placing some kind of a curse. And as she continued, her husband joined in as well. Soon, the children appeared as well, along with the rest of the victims… their eyes were lifeless and they were even paler and more abstracted than Glenn. But the chant grew louder and louder… over a dozen voices chanted it more and more and more…

---

A large group of people sat inside a vast cabin with chairs and tables… it was in the middle of a thunderstorm-ravaged, muddy forest. The winds battered the structure and the pounding of the rain was relentless, almost like artillery. From time to time, the fierce thunder asserted its dominance. The howling of the wind was ghastly, like some wailing from the beyond.

Schaeffer sat at the very back, wearing a crisp suit and tie… he had a frown on his face as he fiddled around with a radio. Not far from him, there was a long rectangular table and all his goons were there, some of them with lit cigarettes. Odowski was playing cards against the rest, but of course, he was losing. Detective Donovan strolled over to a large fridge and opened it, it was filled with beers. Another table was filled with uniformed orderlies, a few police officers, and a Judge Umbridge.

“Where’s Kay? He should have been back by now,” Umbridge said. Some of the orderlies shrugged.

“He may have got himself lost in the woods,” one of the orderlies offered. “I think we should have sent out a larger party.”

“Nah,” Schaeffer said, still trying to fix the hand held radio. “We stay here. Until this weather gets better, no one moves out, I don’t want anyone eaten alive out there. But soon after, I want all heads up and sharp, double the sentries. We’re also going to need more supplies, more hunting parties.”

“Sure thing boss,” one of the men from the table said but his voice was somewhat drowned out by the demonic level of the thunder, punctuated by another dreadful howl from the winds outside.

“If only you could get a signal working,” one of the goons said. “You think the blasted weather could-“

“Enough,” Schaeffer said. “We’ve been through it a thousand times. It doesn’t matter WHY it’s all down. Just don’t disturb me. I’m doing important work.”

There was a pause. A few more cards were played on the goon table. Ondowski slapped his own knees in frustration, suppressing a howl of anguish.

“You sure this piece of shit cabin will hold?” Donovan asked, as she popped open a beer bottle.

“Don’t jinx it,” Umbridge said coldly.

There was a tumultuous bang; it was so much louder no one mistook it for the thunder. Every pair of eyes, over two dozen, turned towards the smashed down front door.

A thoroughly-drenched, young, brown-haired woman stood at the entrance. The backdrop of lightning, endless rain, and the filthy forest was set against her. Most of the top of her formerly white, sleeveless top and half of her face was caked and besmirched with a combination of mud, water… … and human blood. The former Gladstone teacher had a look on her face that screamed bloody murder and she was looking straight at all of them. Somehow, her eyes gleamed with an unnatural, bright red glow… it threatened to engulf them all with their infernal glow. The bare legs that extended out from the skirt had been transformed into a filthy, maroon colour.

Her hands were placed out in front of her at waist-level in an empowered position. Inexplicably, two very large hammers floated 1/3 of a meter just above the hands… in a fixed mid-air positions, the metal parts spun around supernaturally above Emily’s upward-facing palms.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE!” Dolan cried out. “KILL HER!”

Everyone else looked dumbstruck (the fate of Kay and the others was now clear). Donovan was the first to move. The pudgy-faced police woman pulled out a large semi-automatic pistol and fired off a few rounds in the direction of the Marsh woman.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Inexplicably… the bullets disappeared and never seemed to strike anything.

A few of the goons near Schaeffer stood up from their chairs and cursed.

Emily didn’t even move.

WHOOSH!

One of the two hammers rocketed forward like a bullet. Without warning, the steel part buried itself with such forcefulness into the standing Cruel Elder’s head that it cracked open and leaked…

Schaeffer turned just in time as the white-haired enforcer, now with a pulverized head, fell down to the floor.

The second hammer rocketed right across… Odowski was knocked clean off his chair and away from the table with the dreadful projectile lodged into his lower chest; there was a spray and trail of flying blood as his body crashed with sickening forcefulness against a far away wall.

Before anyone else could move, Emily Marsh rushed into the room… somehow a large, powerful axe appeared in front of her which she grabbed in mid sprint. Yelling like a banshee, Emily turned around and began to hack down her enemies one by one. They screamed as they exploded into thousands of messy bits… The instrument of death, in her hands, somehow seemed completely weightless and the slightest contact with the supernatural object caused her targets to just disintegrate or implode into messy puddles…

A few more firearms were pulled out and fired over the screams and the sounds of frenzied scrambling; they did nothing.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Somehow, no one could get to the front door and the numbers began to dwindle.

Cursing, Schaeffer turned and headed away from the carnage… the screams of his subordinates and the sickening sounds of the flesh explosions still echoing across the cabin in his vicinity. Without hesitation, he rushed past the pantry and towards the back door. He pushed it open and stepped outside into the messy maelstrom… but due to his poor luck he tripped over a piece of log and landed face first into a large muddy mess.

A horrific sight greeted him:

Dozens and dozens of dead bodies… many of them decapitated… muddied and bloodied. The closest one was… Kay Appleholm… at least what was left of him.

From behind him, the demonic Emily Marsh was showing up, axe still in hand. The avenger stepped out from the doorframe of the house… Schaeffer tried to crawl away. The axe was raised high…

---

If only it were so easy...

Over the next few days, Emily sensed that something was different. For one thing, her scheduled trips to the yard were cancelled without explanation. What was going on? Was it because she spoke to Henry? Did the guards sense some alliance? Or was it a harbinger of something worse to come?

Nevertheless, Emily remained calm on the exterior. She knew better now than to ever speak to the guards; the system was not on her side, she knew that now. Anything she said would likely be used against her.

The medicines continued to be administered, and the scheduled trips to the restrooms remained. On those trips she was able to perceive the rapidly deteriorating weather conditions through passing windows. It had been grey for some time but this soon descended into the dreadful condition of thunderstorms. Soon, the thunder was so loud that she was able to hear it even within her dreary, “marshmallow” cell.

Emily had always somewhat disliked the rain… well, it was many-sided. Growing up on a farm and having had a practiced hand in running it with her family and Glenn, she knew all too well the necessity and advantages that the rain provided, especially to so many. However, on an emotional level… the combination of grey, lifeless sky and falling rain all too easily made her feel anxious, uneasy, and a bit sad. The same patch of beautiful forests and meadows, even the playgrounds at Gladstone Elementary… they were so fundamentally altered by the hue and condition of the skies. It always seemed incredible to her.

Still, Emily got the inexplicable feeling that perhaps something important was about to happen. She couldn’t place her finger on what, but she got the sense… a lot would depend on her reactions.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Chapter 5: Discharged

As Emily was left in her white blank padded cell, where a heavy rainstorm was picking up for the night, Emily was about to drift off into the comforts of sleep. Suddenly, a series of loud bangs were heard from her cell door, as an orderly spoke from the food slot. "Get up! You've got a new psychiatrist!" the orderly yelled, as the door to her cell opened. A couple of beefy orderlies were ready with sedatives administrated in some syringes, in case Emily was about to become unruly, but she had no idea on what was planned for her. "Get her up. If she tries something, make sure to shock her." an orderly mentioned, having Emily's hands restrained, while making sure she didn't try to yank the electric prod from a holster that were using.

Emily Marsh didn't know what was going on, as she had questions. "This doc knows how to pacify you for good." one of the orderly gave a sick tease to her, as another gave a glare. The moment she saw the shock treatment equipment that was set up in the room for her, she knew they were prepping for the worst. The problem was that after some struggle, they put her restrained onto the table, as she was buckled with old leather restraints. There was what appeared to be a doctor. A doctor who was much older and unlike like Appleholm, appeared to be more of an actual shrink. He was a balding old man with grey eyebrows and hollow-looking eyes. He looked at Marsh on the table, as the orderlies were putting electrode pads onto the temples of her head.

"Hook the patient up, so we can be able to see her heart rate." the doctor said, where he would introduce himself as Doctor Armstrong. "Miss Marsh, I shall be your replacement for Kay Appleholm. With permission and heavy requests from the powers greater for us, you will be given more heavy treatment."

Wait.. No! This isn't right! They are trying to silence me! Emily thought to herself, as they slipped a mouth guard into her, so that her mouth didn't slam back shut when the electricity would hit. "It's time that you face the true reality and consequences of your actions. You're too dangerous and unpredictable, yet we cannot deem you a lost cause. This is our best strategy, or we will be forced to do other means, Marsh.." Armstrong told her, as she can hear them getting the machine started.

"Current voltage is at 30." an orderly said, as the ECT machine was getting charged up. "Give out the dosage. Make sure the machine is running properly." Armstrong ordered, as Emily felt a sensation that was emitted from the electrode pads at her head. She felt her own brain shake, but there was no pain. She did feel the electricity go throughout her body, however.

"Good. We can start.." Armstrong said.

---

Henry Lynch

Henry Lynch was still in his own padded cell. Filled with enough sedatives to bring down a bear, he was still loopy. Though, there was something that Lynch hid from the orderlies. A way to lower their sense of security.

When the orderlies arrived to take him to the restroom as part of the patient's schedule, they watched as he stumbled a bit. His smile was still there, but it looked drowsy and far gone. "Get a move on! Let's go!" another orderly yelled, forcing him out into the hallway, as they were leading him to the restroom. However, the two orderlies exchanged some glances, as they were taking him to a familiar place. It wasn't until he saw the same storage room was when his smile nearly faltered. It wouldn't be long until he given a shove into the room, as he tumbled onto the floor. The door was briefly closed, where as the door opened, as he had the footsteps of several people enter the storage room.

"Again?" Lynch said, as he was trying to get up. One of the masked orderlies used a beefy arm to hoist him up and toss him against the wall, as Lynch felt his back get bruised. "Your therapist said your treatment wasn't working. So we're going to give you your medicine." one of the orderlies in an animal mask said, as Lynch looked dazed at him. "I... I don't recall you... Have we met?" Lynch said, where it looked like he was going through some sort of withdrawal or was perhaps still drugged. "That fucking look on your face irritates me!" the orderly forced Lynch onto the ground, as the masked orderlies got their batons and clubs ready. Some of them smiled under their masks, as they were ready to give a beating.

The side of Lynch's mouth twitched a little, as he was forced to endure another beating.

The problem was for the orderlies, Lynch had a little secret that he has been planning.

---

Outside of the Starkweather Correctional Facility, the rain was starting to pick up, as the sounds of thunder emitted from above the dark clouds. How much rain was falling from the skies was unknown, yet the lightning that was appearing began to draw closer and closer..

---

"Increase the voltage to 60." Armstrong demanded, as the orderly increased the voltage up to the requested level. "Ready."
"Hit it."

Emily Marsh felt another surge of electricity, as this time, she felt pain in that noggin of hers. Things were almost a blur, as she struggled to maintain a clear head. "Patient is still responsive." the orderly said, as Armstrong observed her. "It's not enough. We need her to feel something! Responsibility and authority is what she needs to embrace! We are getting rid of those rose-tinted glasses of hers!"
"Requested voltage level?"
"Crank it."
"To 90?"
"Full power."
"Is that wi-"
"Do it! It will be for a few seconds." Armstrong said, as he was observing Emily like a lab rat.

"That's right, Miss Marsh.. I see that natural response. Fear. But that's not good enough. There's plenty of broken minds who think they are doing the right thing. It's time for you to wake up."

"...DO IT." Armstrong yelled, as Emily saw white briefly until...

---

Near the Starkweather Correctional Facility, a set of power transformers were responsible for being in control of the power of the whole facility. However, almost like a divine intervention from the gods, or something far far worse, a stray bolt of lightning struck the transformers, causing an explosion of sparks. It didn't take long, until everything would fizzle out, as a blackout occurred throughout the whole prison.

At the main cell blocks, a bunch of prisoners were in their cells, tired and trying to sleep. Until...

*click*

Their cell doors opened up by themselves. It was no surprise that Starkweather Correctional Facility had an automatic cell door system for their prisoners, which was never updated. While the maximum security wing was well-shut, the automatic cell door system was part of the regular inmate wings and for the loonies. When the orderlies and guards from both types of wings saw the cell doors open at once, a familiar feeling rose in the air, as the lights went out.

It was too late to turn on a flashlight, when a psychotic addict of NXK charged at an orderly, gorging out his eyes with his bare thumbs, as the screaming started. Screams from orderlies, inmates, guards, and even from the loonies. All hell had broken loose in Starkweather Correctional Facility, where it was going to get far worse..

---

Judith Kernan

"What do you mean that Appleholm's family is suing us?" Kernan said, as she was in her office, as Judge Umbridge mentioned the lawsuit filed against the warden. "It's nonsense, Kernan. Surely, there will be a settlement I can negotiate." Umbridge said to her. "We're not paying them. You think I would give two damns about a quack who we got from those teen treatment facilities like Tranquility Bay?"

Kernan explained, as Appleholm's previous record wasn't so good from what Emily probably would have imagined. "Hang on, I'm stuck in traffic! The street ahead of me is flooded! I will call you back, but we will need to have this issue be resolved as soon as possible." Umbridge said, before Kernan hung up. Kernan put her hand over her face in annoyance.

"I don't get paid enough for this job.."

Suddenly, the lights in her office went off, where a minute later, she could hear the screams.. The worst thought immediately appeared to her. A prison riot. A major one from the sounds of it. She needed to get the hell out of the prison somehow.

---

Henry Lynch

"What the fuck happened to the lights?! I can't see shit!" one of the orderlies wearing an animal mask yelled, as they were stuck in a pitch-black storage room with Henry Lynch. Another orderly swung his baton at what he thought was Lynch, but there was nothing there.

"Wait, where the fuck did he go!?"
"Get some light on!"
"Fuck, where's my phone?!"
"Get to the door!"

All of the orderlies yelling would not phase the more predatory Lynch, as he was using the time given to get loose. What the orderlies didn't know, as Lynch was alone in his own cell, was that he was practicing on getting the straightjacket that was bound on him loose. A straightjacket wasn't something that was impossible to get off. If one could create some slack on the straightjacket, then bring an arm over their head, they would have a chance to get free. Lynch had managed to pull this off, as he kept up his ruse with making it appear that his straightjacket was firmly stuck on him, when in reality, he had managed to create enough slack to get the jacket off.

It should had been a cue that something was wrong, when the orderlies heard Lynch mutter something.

"Ta-da.."

"Guys?" one of the orderlies said, as he took a step to where that voice was. He was immediately met with a punch to the throat. Not to the face, but an actual rabbit punch to hit the windpipe. The orderly was caught off guard, struggling for breath, as his baton was snatched, before he felt a swing with the same force of a semi-truck hit him on the side of his face, sending him spinning to the floor. "Get him, you bastards!" another orderly yelled, as he got his phone to act as a flashlight.

The beam of light shined around the storage room, as Henry Lynch was standing there. Still as a statue with a baton raised, ready to strike. His straightjacket on the floor next to him. An orderly rushed at him for a strike, but Lynch immediately counter him with a swing to the teeth. The bottom jaw of the orderly was shattered, as pearly whites fell to the floor, as Lynch delivered another strike to crack his skull. An orderly tried to sneak up behind to send their club down onto Lynch's head, but the crazed bastard immediately spun around and sent a kick to the orderly's groin, busting a ball. The squeal from the orderly gave Lynch delight, as when the orderly fell to the floor, Lynch finished him off with a foot to the orderly's neck, snapping it.

By the time that some orderlies got to the door, they had decided to book it out of there, leaving one orderly left. A tiger masked orderly who was shining the phone flashlight at Lynch. Lynch slowly approached the orderly, as the latter was so shocked at what just happened that they didn't know what to do. "WAIT! WAIT! I SURRENDER!" the orderly dropped his baton, as he stepped out into the hallway, as Lynch still walked towards him. "Please don't kill me! It was nothing personal! They wouldn't let us do it to bums!"

"I think I remember you from a previous session.." Lynch said, as the orderly saw his expression. Lynch's eyes were glaring daggers at him and his smile was so wide that it looked forced. Lynch looked happy, but deep down, the orderly knew that Lynch was fucking pissed off.

"You... You remember me?" the orderly said, as he found himself backed up against a wall in the hallway. "Yes... I do. You battered my face and messed up my hair.." Lynch still had a calm and cheerful voice, despite all that he just done. "Look! I have some coke! I can give you some, if you spare me!"

"Are you offering me drugs? Heavens no! You people drugged me enough already.." Lynch said, as the orderly was thinking up some bullshit to save his own ass. "Wait, I can let you out!" the orderly pleaded, but Lynch was going to do that by himself. "I have a better idea..."

"....wh-...what?"

Lynch made sure that the orderly was against the wall, as he rested his hands on the orderly's shoulders. The orderly wondered if Lynch was actually going to kiss him, then buzz off. Some of his now former orderly friend were probably right that John Doe was a queer. The orderly didn't look too much, as his guard was down, where Lynch leaned in..

Taking a bite at the jugular vein of the orderly.

The next thing that the orderly knew, as his eyes rolled back into his skull from shock, as they both fell onto the floor, Lynch was tearing off chucks of the orderly's neck with his own teeth. There was a slurping sound, as Lynch drank some of the blood.

He has managed to find satisfaction of all sorts, as he licked the blood from the bleeding corpse of the orderly.

---

Emily Marsh

Emily couldn't recall what happened. She felt a surge of electricity hit her brain, but the room was dark, until the emergency lighting kicked in. Both Armstrong and another orderly were scrambling around, as the prison riot was happening. Emily can hear them both screaming, where she noticed that one of the leather restraints was loose. Perhaps...

"What in the devil's name is happening out there?!" Armstrong yelled, as the doors out of the room opened briefly, where Emily can hear the screams. "Holy shit! We need to get the fuck outta here, doc! The crazies are out of their cells! We need to book it or they will rip us to shreds!" the orderly said, as neither of them were paying attention to Emily. "Fine! If it's our best bet, we must escape! The prisoners might burn down this whole facility!" Armstrong responded, where the orderly was looking around for something to use as an improvised weapon, as Armstrong left the room.

"Come on...Where the hell is a scalpel?!" the orderly said to himself, as he was facing away from Emily, who had managed to slip out of her restraints.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

It didn’t take long for Emily to reach the conclusion that Armstrong and the orderlies intended to end her, or at least to render her mind inoperable. This was all really bad timing for her. The Schaeffer Conspiracy had attacked first, before she could launch her next move at all.

Is this how it all ends?

ZAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP***

As Emily was electroshocked at 90, she was overcome with so much electricity she nearly lost consciousness. It was as though an artillery shell had exploded from inside her head.

The next few seconds were a blur and she was almost out… but a part of her steeled herself to stay focused, even amidst the pain, the numbness, the increasing blurriness.

The lights came off and then back on as an opportunity presented itself.

A voice amidst the darkness spoke to Emily, as her hands were somehow able to slip out of the restraints… it was Glenn!

Glenn: “You are Gladstone’s Last Hope.”

Yes I am.

It had to be done; there was no other way.

While the orderlies were distracted, Emily slid out of the restraints and off the table, her heart racing but her mind sharply focused. As her feet touched the soft padded material of the cell floor, very little sound was made.

Her movement was uncharacteristically fluid and fast as she wasted no time in moving over to reach for the metal instruments on the side table.

---

"Come on...Where the hell is a scalpel?!" the orderly said to himself.

---

Emily Marsh grabbed the orderly from behind and stabbed the steel scalpel at full force into the exposed neck- The employee let out a fraction of a horrified scream before he choked amidst a horrific fountain; at once he began to lose balance and falter.

The other orderly stepped back in horror, his face white with shock. “You- YOU CRAZY BITCH!”

Emily threw the dying man to the side, wasting no time in launching a spectacular tackle across the cell. The second orderly tried to raise his hands but it was too late. She landed a tackle and her momentum caused both of them to fall over and knock over yet another tray filled with metallic instruments; she was on top and took full advantage of it, using the weight of her knees to press down.

One of the orderly’s hands reached upwards but Emily wasted no time in punching and poking downwards repeatedly. She wasn’t the strongest but she aimed for the throat, and with unrestrained savagery. Within seconds the orderly was grasping for air as his arms slackened on either side. At which point, Emily wrapped both of her hands firmly around the man’s neck and began to choke…

There was no expression on her cold face as she looked straight into his widening eyes. The body under her convulsed and shook; the life began to drain from his face.

From behind them, the other orderly had long collapsed unto the floor. Now he was flailing around like a mutilated fish…

Where did the third doctor go?

Armstrong was nowhere to be see; he was gone.

---

Throughout the yards, there was absolute pandemonium. Everywhere, the misunderstood, the monsters, society’s rejects… they had all been set free from the cages. The lighting flickered throughout; the screams, the cries, and the sounds of metal falling and clanging reverberated all across.

In a particularly large area of the facility, large crowds of inmates were fighting against each other, and against the guards. A few electro-prod like weapons were brandished by the uniformed orderlies. The forces of law and order were vastly outnumbered; chaos reigned on this day.

ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP***

A few screaming guards were hurled off a high steel balcony; they screamed all the way down.

The emergency lights had turned on here and there though they flickered; other parts of the place was engulfed in darkness.

---

The chaos escalated.

Amidst all of this fighting, suddenly a door swung open as Emily Marsh walked across the hallway.

The brown-haired woman had re-equipped herself from the fallen orderlies. She was holding a bloodied scalpel in one hand and in the other, a fairly lengthy electro prod. She was dressed in white but now it was stained in many places with red; she had stolen one orderly’s shoes, anticipating that things would get messy outside.

As she walked across in a straight line at a steady pace, her brown hair swinging a bit, there was an ice cold look of focus across her features. She looked straight ahead and kept walking, somehow ignoring all the brawling going all around her.

In mid fight, a few of the crazed inmates turned and saw her, but they made no move towards her as she continued to walk forward and past them. There was something about the way she walked and carried herself that seemed to say to them: Don’t Mess With This. It was as if she were channeling an inner darkness.

The time has come. The hour of the liberation is here.

Emily marched into another section of the facility, her mind focused on two things. She had to find a way out. Also, was there a way she could find her ally Henry?

She couldn’t explain the power outage, was this part of his plan? Or was it the work of higher forces? Neither reality would surprise her. With the cosmos stacked against her for so long, surely at some point, things could turn.

As Emily walked by, she had an intuition that most of the inmates wouldn’t attack her. Somehow, none of them did. After all, were they not on the same side? She had to wonder: How many of them were incarcerated wrongfully here? Just like her?

This town is due for a serious purging of its wicked elements. And all of it shall start… here.

This was the moment, her moment. Nothing will stand in the way of her destiny.

The day of reckoning is here at last.

Emily was filled with purpose. A new vigilante had been born; this was a moment to right the universe and she had never felt more free.

---

One of the orderlies stood up, rubbing his head, he looked around as he saw Emily Marsh walking in his general direction.

What is this?

Ignoring all the other combatants, he stood up, powered up his electro prod and rushed forward towards her, roaring like a fierce beast.

Emily continued to walk forward. Before the guard could even reach her, somehow a nearby inmate tackled the guard down and away from his trajectory.

---

Dr. Armstrong

Armstrong rushed into the office. He had already rushed past several areas that were embattled.

Worthless worthless worthless… everyone here is worthless. I’m getting out.

He didn’t much care for the orderlies he left behind. They would deal with Marsh; in any event, she wasn’t the priority, not anymore.

They don’t pay me enough for this. Kernan can clean up her own mess.

He walked into his office and began to frantically pack. A large number of folders and documents were going into several big briefcases. He’d leave it all behind but he was concerned about leaving behind incriminating documents. Once he got out, depending on how this played out, he may have to distance himself from this place.

Armstrong knew that the situation was dire. A breakout of this scale and magnitude? He had seen more than enough on the way here. The facility did not have the numbers. He had warned the others about upgrading this potential security deficit.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Emily Marsh

For Emily Marsh, the now determined woman, cold to the bone, strolled through the chaos that was occurring around her. The other crazed inmates seemed to recognize her as a threat, but they were too busy dealing with orderlies that had wronged them in the past. Emily took a moment to stroll down the asylum wing of the cell blocks, where she got back the offices. The same offices where she was with Appleholm, before she took it upon herself to rid him when she knew that he was using her. It appeared that the doctors at the offices managed to flee, until Emily saw a door open up in front of her.

Armstrong was trying to ditch his office with briefcases in each of his hands. Emily knew that the "good" doctor that was trying to "cure" her was a threat to her. Armstrong didn't make an effort to sneak around the prison. It took only a second, as Armstrong noticed Emily with a electric prod in one hand and the same blade she used to murder the orderly.

"Shit!" Armstrong immediately tossed one of the briefcases at Emily, where he took off with the other one down the hall. The doctor was going to be easy pickings. Emily chased after him, as she saw how the offices led back into the regular prison wings. The now concrete walls and floors with steel cell doors was just as she imagined from a prison. A shame that she couldn't end up here.

Armstrong had already booked it down a hall, where Emily lost him. There was something interesting that Emily noticed, as she chased after him. A set of bloody footprints from the psych ward that led into the same prison wing that Emily was in. The trail of footprints were ominous, but it wasn't until she noticed a mangled corpse of a prison guard slumped against the wall, as she heard feedback from a walkie talkie that was still pinned on the uniform of the guard.

"The prisoners are escaping! Fuck! They are trying to get through at the front!"
"Hold your ground! SWAT will be here in any moment!"
"The prisoners from maximum security had escaped, as well! I can't- HEY WATCH OUT BEH-"
BZZZTT

SWAT forces were coming? Emily knew that she couldn't stay here much longer. It will more than a massacre, if they show up. Currently, there was several inmates that were in the same prison block as her. Either dead or not wanting to be a part of the chaos. There was a small security room that was responsible for monitoring the prisoners in this block, but it was currently barricaded with an inmate stashed inside. Emily's attempt to reason with him only made him paranoid to shoo her away. "Get the hell away from me! I know what you psychos been doing in there! I'm not coming out!"

So much for finding freaking help.

Emily continued following the bloody footsteps, as they were leading her out of the prison block and into the connecting hallways. There were a set of closed doors that the trail led to, but they were locked. There were two thin windows, where she saw a glimpse of Armstrong. He managed to get the doors blocked, before Emily can reach him. "This is for your own good, Emily! You hear?!" Armstrong yelled, before he retreated.

Damn! She could have had the chance to get him. There were still an alternative route to possibly bypass him. Emily went down another hallway, where she came across an interesting sight. There was a large man in an orange prisoner uniform that had his arms forced through a cell door-like checkpoint into another prison block, as his arms were tied together with rope. "Hey! Hey, who's there?!" he heard Emily approach him, as he struggled to get free.

"Miss!" the prisoner had to tilt his head back to get eye contact with Emily. "Miss, you need to get me out of here! They ditched me here to use as a hurdle! I've been stuck with my arms tied! Cut me loose, quick!" the prisoner pleaded, but Emily noticed that on the other side of the checkpoint, there were three beefy inmates with several weapons on their hands. Two large police batons and one even had a wireless circular power saw that was snatched from an utility locker. They all noticed Emily with a sense of glee.

"Hey boys! We got a whore here!" the one with the buzz saw said, as Emily got her cattle prod ready. "Wait! Don't cut me loose! These guys are fucking sick!" the prisoner still tied to the cell bars pleaded, as the trio on the other side saw how the prisoner's arms were practically preventing the cell door at the checkpoint from opening. "You know that I have been thinking?" the one with the buzz saw smiled, as he turned the saw on.

"Wait! Not my arms! No! No!!"

Emily was hardened enough for the violence she done, but she couldn't prevent what happened next. "NO!! AHRHGHH!"

Using the power saw, the inmate on the other side was slicing off the hands of the inmate stuck at the bars. Blood splattered everywhere, some even coating Emily, where after the horrific deed was done, the prisoner fell in front of Emily. A now armless corpse with his eyes wide open. One of the inmates with a baton forced the severed hands and arms of the inmate out from the bars, as they got the door open. "Get her! She will be ours!"

Emily had blood on her hands, but the electric cattle prod she had in her hands will give her an upper hand.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

Emily didn’t flinch amidst the screams of the unfortunate inmate and the deafening noise of the buzzing chainsaw. A few specks of warm blood splashed across her face.

She looked around, calculating her options and taking in her surroundings, sensing a confrontation was at hand.

Their advantage: numbers.
My advantage: Reach.

It would benefit her set up to look confused, absent-minded, and unintelligent. Accordingly, she slid the prod behind her back as she twirled with the scalpel, her face looking around. She hummed a bit of a tune.

The steel barricade broke down as the de-limbed victim fell. The three attackers rushed in… two batons, one roaring chainsaw. They had wild, maniacal, beast-like leers on their faces…

“FUN FUN TIME IS HERE SWEETIE!”
“IMMA GET MYSELF A NEW BRIDE! A HAHA HAAAA!”

One of the baton-wielders came in at top speed, far ahead of the others.

Emily wasted no time in suddenly pulling out the cattle prod from behind her, activating, and ramming it forward. The thing cackled with electricity and was more than a meter long… it immediately struck the attacker across the torso; he had run straight into it!

ZAAAAAAAAP!**** “NIAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHH!!!!”

He was engulfed in electricity from head to toe… vibrating like a giant toothbrush as he was seemingly rooted in place. Smoke rose into the air. Emily stepped back and stabbed again, even harder into the underside of his chest-

ZAAAAAAAAP!****

The first of three fell with a deafening thud, thoroughly toasted and damaged.

The other inmates passed the gate at last as they watched, dumbfounded.

“Alright folks,” Emily shouted over the sound of the still-activated chainsaw, whilst brandishing the still-cackling weapon around whilst walking a bit to the side. There was a slight smile on her face. “Who’s next? Do you really want to play with me?”

The two of them looked at each other. “You’ve got the chainsaw, you get her!”

“ME SEE BAD GIRL! ME GET BAD GIRL!”

BZZZZZZZZT***

The chainsaw-man approached cautiously, flanked to the right by the baton-wielder. The space was tested. Emily crouched and moved forward and back by inches, all whilst stabbing and poking at the air with her ranged stick to threaten. Her two opponents spaced out, trying to mirror her with their weapons, trying to find an opportunity to break through.

“We don’t have all day, do we?” Emily called. “I think we should call a truce?”

They made their move. “I WANT WHORE WHORE!” one attacker rushed forward, swinging his baton.

Emily did a sudden sidestep to one side before promptly swinging her prod back towards the center in a whipping move. The electrified stick struck the inmate across the side of his neck, lighting him up as well-

ZAAAAAAAAP** “YIAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!”

Emily withdrew the weapon and promptly aimed it between his legs for a follow-up; she stabbed all-in-

ZAAAAAAAAP** “RIOWUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!”

As Emily withdrew the weapon (and the second enemy fell), the chainsaw-wielder rushed in. To Emily’s dismay, somehow the electricity was out; somehow her weapon had overheated or malfunctioned. Emily attempted to stab the incoming assailant, taking full advantage of her longer range. However, this lunatic sidestepped whilst raising the chainsaw, catching the stick and cutting off most of the thing. Emily stepped back, looking down with an annoyed expression at her now incredibly short and useless stick.

“HA HA!” her opponent taunted. “HA HA! You GOING DOWN NOW!”

He rushed forward with the chainsaw. Emily waited, then she suddenly darted to the right at the last possible moment. The momentum of the run and the weight of the chainsaw caused the assailant to crash into a portion of the wall behind. Before he could re-adjust, his chainsaw was making discordant, high-pitched screeching sounds as it drilled against the wall to limited effect.

Emily wasted no time in getting behind, grabbing, and then stabbing endlessly at the back of his upper half with her scalpel at maximum ferocity (a few of the stabs hit the throat). She was unrelenting in her attack, knowing full well that she had to finish him off so he couldn’t turn around with the chainsaw.

---

In the distance, a few inmates strolled by absent-mindedly. They saw a brown-haired woman crouched over a fallen corpse, a de-activated chainsaw to the side… the girl stabbing and stabbing and stabbing…

---

After dispatching the three inmates, Emily stood up and decided to re-equip herself. She had to act fast, keeping in mind the incoming SWATs.
I have to keep moving.

The chainsaw was a bit too heavy and unwieldy for her taste but she had an idea. She decided to fashion for herself, an improvised steel weapon using the material from the cell-like chokepoint. Working fast, she picked up the heavy chainsaw, moved over, and began to cut; it did go through-

BZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!** BZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!** BZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!**
CLANG!**

After cutting through many angles and directions, she had fashioned herself a new steel stick weapon. This was almost two meters long; she was quite satisfied with the end product.

This is a B? Nope, B+. I should get a B+. At least a B+ for effort.

A while back, even just days ago, she could never have imagined herself capable of such feats of combat and killing. Already, she was more than used to the iron smell of blood. Clearly, there was a higher power of destiny guiding her on her quest for justice. It all made sense, in her mind.

Emily Marsh carried on, new weapon in hand. She needed to find and deal with Armstrong; well, if she was lucky enough to run into him again.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Judith Kernan

"Don't just stand there! Shoot them!" Warden Judith Kernan immediately guarded several panicking guards, as some were fleeing from the barricade that was set up at the front of the prison. The problem, along with the blaring of emergency alarms and backup lights, was that some of the prisoners had already managed to get their hands on some weaponry looted from several dead enforcing officers in the prison.

"Miss Kernan! Several inmates have already breached through some of the blockages! They gotten hands on heavy fire! We need to evacuate the prison!" an higher-up prison head guard said to Kernan, as it was now dawning to her that the Starkweather Correctional Facility was falling into a lost cause. Where the hell was those SWAT officers that were dispatched!?

"I'm getting out of here! I'm not going to be torn apart from these maniacs!" Judith said, as she had the head guard follow her, as she left the other guards and staff to fend for themselves, while she was heading down a quiet part of the correctional facility that led to staff parking. "Where are we going?" the head guard nervously said, as he pointed a large revolver around each corner, where they ended up coming across a bloodthirsty looking prisoner with a makeshift prison shiv. "Judith, you fucking bitch! We had a deal!" the prisoner accused Judith, due to some "backdoor" deals that were being handled in the prison.

"Your outside sources didn't have enough to pay you out! Now, it's too late to do anything!" Judith yelled back at them, as the head guard got his revolver aimed at the prisoner. "I'm not the only one with problems here! I can open up more to you!" the prisoner immediately rushed towards Judith and the head guard, as the latter's revolver was aimed squarely at the inmate.

"Shoot him now!!"
"You wouldn't sho-"

A loud bang and several brains coming out from the back of the prisoner's head was enough to silence him, as he dropped to the floor dead. "Oh my god.. I... I killed someone!" the head guard, horrified at what just transpired. "Get a grip! You should be able to handle this! You are to get me out of here or I'm having you blacklisted!" Judith ordered him, as the two retreated into the staff areas of the prison. From around the corner from where the prisoner was shot, a bloody inmate drenched in the blood of many had eavesdropped on the scene.

Henry Lynch softly picked up the prison shiv that the dead prisoner had, where he took it into account on who to use it on. He could use some meat.

---

Emily Marsh

After dealing with the violent inmates that were willing to slay their own, Emily carried her steel stick along with her, as she strolled through the prison block to reach the other checkpoint. Entering a hallway, she was unsurprised to see the corpse of a prison guard, who was forcibly hung from a ceiling light with his wrists bound. More violent prisoners were ahead, but that didn't distract Emily.

Several inmates were running around near her, trying to come up with last second escape plans. Some inmates noticed Emily, but they stood their ground when they saw her cold look and the weapons she had. Turning a corner, Emily heard a loud bang, followed by another. Stepping into some shadows, she heard the commotion of several more violent inmates that would make trouble for her.

"Wait! Think about this! We have enough to get through the barricade!" a prisoner yelled, as a few other prisoners had gotten hold of firearms that were in possession of the prison staff. "You were going to cut us out! Lupton trusted you!"
"Fuck Lupton! He should've kept himself with Cumberworth! You know nothing!"
"FUCK YOU!"

A loud bang of a shotgun was heard, as Emily peeked around the corner. Turns out one of the prisoners managed to get a hold of a shotgun, as he just blasted an unfortunate ex-prison gang member to the floor. The rest of the other prisoners near the "leader" only had pistols. Judging by it, they had limited ammo, due to the scarcity of the situation. The shotgun-wielding inmate was now walking towards Emily's position, as she kept herself in the shadows and out of view. She needed to take this guy out and the others who stood in her way.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

Firearms? The stakes have been upped.

In this environment, it was eat-or-be-eaten. It was the laws of the jungle at work (though in an environment of steel, darkness, and human blood, monstrous-like humans in place of lions and tigers); there was no time for the laws of civilization. There was no time for talk, no time for diplomacy, no time for wrangling… not in this situation.

Was it possible to talk to them? Possibly. Perhaps they could even be trusted, reasoned with… or perhaps not. It would be a coin flip at 50-50 if even that, and under the circumstances, she wasn’t willing to push her luck that way.

Sometimes violence is the best answer.

Emily was possessed by a spirit of darkness such that she felt no fear; a surreal force seemed to permeate her veins and every fiber of her being, perhaps fueled by her previous kills. They had the guns but somehow, she was already calculating to use cover and surprise to offset the odds. The former English teacher hid by the side of the wall as she heard the gun-wielders approach. Before retreating to cover, she had counted: three opponents. She did have an edge in one aspect, surprise. They hadn’t seen her, or they’d be commenting on it by now. Instead, they were shouting at some spectators behind Emily (while she was concealed to the side).

“Hey what are you pukes looking at?” a voice called out (which Emily recognized as the shotgun-wielding “leader”).

“N-NOTHING?! I’m just walking by don’t mind!”

“What are you holding behind you?!”

“N… NOTHING?”

“Stay put!”

Emily held her breath; listening intently on the footsteps, calculating, and estimating where the leader stood. They were approaching.

The shotgun must go first. Those things are terrifying at close quarters.

Without warning, Marsh stepped out and swung her steel stick like a baseball bat. The men were completely caught off-guard.

CRACK**

She struck the upper skull of the “leader” with bone-shattering velocity, causing his fingers to slacken and the shotgun to fall (it was an instant incapacitation). At once the “leader” fell to the side and tripped, his weight bringing down a second man with him. They fell about half a meter against the floor.

BANG!**

The remaining goon to the side opened fire but the pistol round struck the floor; it was a reflex, nothing more.
Emily quickly re-adjusted her stick and stabbed at the shooter, as if planting a flag… somehow she did so with enough force that the sharp end of the steel pole went through the chest-

“RIAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!” He fell down to his knees, having been decisively impaled. He continued to scream and scream, the efforts to remove that awful steel pole irrelevant. “RIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

Emily turned and saw two fallen firearms: a pistol and shotgun. The pistol was closer. Instinctively she crouched down and went towards it.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” the third man shouted from behind as he grabbed her leg firmly and started to claw towards her.

He was quite strong…

“RIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!” The impaled goon was still screaming.

Emily’s crawling opponent pulled with both arms now, and Emily was yanked back. However, this allowed her to refocus and kick really hard with her other foot… this time it landed at full power over his face, provoking a grunt and causing him to release her. Feeling a rush of energy, the woman lurched forward and got to the handgun. She stood up and turned. Her grappler raised his hands in a motion of surrender, however, the other person was still screaming in agony, his fingers pulling at the pole through him.

“RIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

He’s beyond help. Time to end it.

She had some experience with firearms, courtesy of a Gladstone upbringing. Nothing too extraordinary but in the current circumstances, it would do.

She turned and shot, instantly executing the impaled man through the head, silencing him.

BANG!**

She didn’t miss a beat as she instantly pivoted where she stood, pointing the gun at the last gang member. Everyone else had run away… except him.

“Hey w-wait a minute,” he said. “Miss, I think we’ve got a bit of a misunderstanding. I got no beef with you!”

Hmmmm… Perhaps he can live. At least he's not armed any longer. His gun, he must have dropped it.

“Don’t move,” Emily said very coldly. Keeping the gun trained with one hand, she inched down and picked up the shotgun as well. It was heavy but she managed it, all the while keeping a general aim in his direction with the pistol.

“How about I walk that way and you walk that way?” he said, offering a truth. “And just call it?”

Emily watched him very closely.

She had remembered just now why the names had sounded familiar. Lupton. It was a name that had shown up, however peripherally at her own trial. There had been a mention of him somewhere, the name was at the least gangster-affiliated.

“Your next words could determine if you live or die,” she said coldly. “Dolan Schaeffer. What do you know about him?”

She was determined to play the part of an angel of justice (and somehow, all of this power, especially now that she had the guns, was starting to get to her a bit). She watched him closely, trying to decide which team he was on. Was he connected with Schaeffer? Just some lunatic? Some other gang faction? Would he lie? Would he tell the truth? His two associates had been killed regardless; sacrifices to ensure she herself would be alive to carry out her ultimate mission. But for this person? He at least had a chance.

“SPEAK!”

[Main Nation Ministry]

“Your next words could determine if you live or die,” she said coldly. “Dolan Schaeffer. What do you know about him?”

"Dolan Schaeffer? What are you... I don't even know wh-"

"SPEAK!"

"I don't know anything about him! Me and a bunch of others are trying to get out of here!" the inmate seemed to be telling the truth. There was no evidence at proving that he was involved with Schaeffer. "Listen, let me go and I can tell you where we were planning to escape to!"

An escape route? It was a choice, but Emily would've wanted more information from this guy.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

At the moment, she wasn’t inclined to carry out another cold-blooded execution. If he was lying, she had no proof. She decided to take a gamble.

“Very well then, tell me,” she said, keeping the gun trained.

Much as she hated it, she didn’t have a satisfactory inkling where she was herself headed. In the weeks leading up to this moment, she had tried to map out as much as she could, but the conspiracy had been effective in keeping her restricted. The place seemed as vast as it was endless. It felt like she had been here an eternity and that by design, it was a place without obvious layout.

[Main Nation Ministry]

"There's a laundry room that the guards bring some of the prisoners into for work! All of the pigs are currently at the front of the place trying to hold out, until reinforcements come! There's a door in the laundry room that leads down a staff hallway to where the kitchen is! There's a way to get to the staff parking!" the inmate explained, as he kept his hands away from Emily, trying not to make any sudden moves.

A possible innocent soul, but no one here seemed innocent.

---

Judith Kernan

Meanwhile, both Warden Kernan and the head guard had gotten to the kitchen, as they were trying to flee from the Starkweather Correctional Facility, as both knew that it was eventually going to go up in flames. While they were the only two to make it to the kitchen before the other prisoners, Kernan was getting out her keycard to get the backdoor to the staff parking areas open. "Kernan, I have a question.." the meek head guard asked her, as she inserted her keycard into a reader, along with using a keypad to input a code. "What is it? I'm busy." Kernan sternly said. The keypad lit up red. The wrong code?

"Of course, they changed the code today, didn't they?" Kernan thought, as she tried again. "I don't want to get fired, but I don't know how long I'm supposed to keep my mouth shut on what we had been doing here. The obvious improper safety and security regulations aside, the two of us are bound to be investigated for the transactions that we do with prisoners and clientele."

"I don't want to talk about it! I need to know what the code is for the door!" Judith demanded, as the head guard was unaware of someone approaching him from behind, since his attention was drawn at Judith. The warden had her back turned too, as she was trying to get the door open.

"What's the damn code?!" Judith barked a question at the head guard. "Try 1029! I think they went back to using the old code from last month!" the head guard said, as Judith inputted the code. The keypad lit up green. "Finally, c'mon let's go-" Judith turned around to face the head guard, but she was met with an unfortunate sight. The head guard stood there, as his throat had been slit. His blood dripped from the thin line of a wound, as he fell to the side, revealing a much blood-hungry Henry Lynch who was really much coated in the stuff. "NO!!!" Judith immediately tried to pull the door open, but Lynch rushed towards her, as she was thrown from the door and against a metal counter that was used for propping food.

"Where is it.. Where's my camera..?"

"What camera!? Get back!" Judith yelled, as Lynch leaped on top of her to keep her pinned to the ground. An used prison shiv was up against her neck, as Lynch kept that smile of his. However, his eyes were daggers onto Judith, as she struggled to get free. Lynch's body pinned her down, as she was on the verge of getting herself killed. "My camera that you pigs took.."

"This is a prison, not an evidence lockup! They took your possessions back to Starkweather!" Judith said, hoping that Lynch would spare her. Lynch raised the shiv away from her neck, but her body was still pinned. Lynch's guard was never dropped.

"I know that you're responsible for attempting to damage me. Only that you're mistaken, dear.. I cannot be fixed for it's my strength."

"W...what? You're a heartless bastard, if you intend to kill me! I'm not afraid of you!" Judith said, but Lynch licked his lips, as his expression turned into passive-aggressive into sadistic lust.

"I'm heartless? Isn't that calling the kettle black? Let's find out, shall we?"

---

Dr. Armstrong

By the time that Armstrong reached the laundry room, he was dismayed to find out that a trail of blood had coated half of the room, leading out into the hallway to the kitchen. Several dead inmates were nearby, slashed up by what looks like someone on a rampage. Armstrong didn't know if he should proceed, until he heard the familiar screams of someone echoing from the staff hallway, possibly from the kitchen. He clutched his briefcase tight, until the door to the laundry room was opened, as Emily Marsh had arrived to "thank" the good doctor.

"Emily! Wai-w-w-ait!" Armstrong backed up against a corner near some industrial sandwich press styled clothes dryers. "It was Appleholm's doing! He had corrupted your mind and is making you act irrationally!" Armstrong pleaded, as he kept his briefcase in front of him, intending to swap Emily with it.

Emily observed Armstrong and the room around her. A pushover would be the best way to describe Armstrong. She already took care of Appleholm, but she wasn't going to let the fact that Armstrong attempted to fry her brain slide. The laundry room had some sandwich press styled clothes dryers, several washing machines that look big enough to cramp Armstrong into, along with a large puddle of water and blood that was below a fuse box that looked like it was able to electrocute someone who rammed into it hard.

While she was now striving for justice, Emily was now given the task of judgement.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

A while back, Emily had honored her end of the bargain. After hearing the survivor speak about the exit path, Emily had decided to let him go unharmed. There was no need to spill unnecessary blood and she had no proof of his wrongfulness.

On the other hand, there’s a long list of people who need to be culled.

“Very well,” she replied. “I believe you. Off you go then.”

“I-I can go? … But what about you? Are you-“

“I’ve got a few things to take care of.”

“What do you-“

“You want to wait around and find out?”

“N-no.”

And off he ran, past her and away with his arms raised.

---

Presently…

A cornered rat.

Emily casually kept the shotgun pointed at Dr. Armstrong; she was holding it at the hip.

“Appleholm is gone,” she said. “I already took care of him. He was a monster so he had to go. This place… it’s filled with monsters.”

She sized him up (he was trembling) and she could tell that she was in control; she doubted she even needed the gun.

“This institution needs an overhaul,” Emily continued. “There are too many educated criminals here; it’s truly a modern Auschwitz.”

“W-what?” Armstrong managed. “Now hang on. We were just trying to help-“

Emily gave him a death stare. He stopped interrupting. Very calmly, the woman set the shotgun down against a wal; it was propped up. She began to move her arms around conversationally as she continued, even taking a few steps forward. He backed off.

A real pushover.

“I’ve got to say. I’m really disappointed in this place,” she said, pacing around. “You have it all: education, privilege, power but you don’t use it help people, you use it destroy them… and for what? … You see? You are part of the cancer that needs to be rooted out.”

This nation has truly become rotten to the core. What happened to the foundation?

Armstrong eyed the shotgun. Did he dare make a run for it? “You’ve got it wrong I-“

“No,” Emily said calmly, raising a single finger in the direction of his face. “No. UH UH UH . Don’t do that. No more lies please. You were going to electrocute me to death, fry my head, don’t deny it. That is as far from helping anyone, it’s the antithesis.”

She walked back and placed a single hand on the shotgun, as if considering to pick it back up for use. She turned her head and kept talking:
“The practice of medicine, psychiatric medicine in particular, has lost its way. YOU GUYS are the problem. It’s YOU, not the patients. It’s YOU. I have no idea why anyone would give a place like this any funding.”

Armstrong looked around but he was too worried to make a sudden movement.

Emily said: “You tried to have my head fried. That’s too cold.”

“L-Look I-I messed up okay?” Armstrong pleaded. “I’ve made a bad mistake. We all have. No but but don’t you see? It wasn’t me. I-I wanted to do the right thing. It- it was KERNAN. We- WE WERE JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS!”

“Hmmmmm….” Emily said, considering it. “Perhaps.”

“They would have killed me-“

“I don’t really believe that,” she said, finally picking up the shotgun. She walked towards him; he backed off. “In a way we all have a choice between Good and Evil.”

Not too far away, the fuse box hissed and cackled above the puddle of water and blood. The doctor was now dangerously close; his eyes were on the shotgun.

“Please- please don’t shoot me!” he said, raising his hands out in front. “I-I don’t-“

“Shooting you would be a waste of ammunition,” Emily said, seeing that his eyes were on the gun barrel. “You tried to fry me, so perhaps something more fitting.”

And with that, she suddenly lurched forward half a step, randomly swinging the front of the shotgun at great speed.

Completely surprised, the doctor let out a cry and hopped backwards… his foot slipped against the wet surface of the puddle, and this caused him to fall backwards. He let out a scream as the back of his head slammed against the fuse box-

ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!**** BANG** BANG** ZAAAAAAAAP!!!***
“RIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

The voltage was incredible. His entire form convulsed and shook grotesquely as spectacular sparks popped out here and there. Smoke began to rise. With the way the doctor fell, he had also created a torrential upward splash, further accelerating the conduction of the electricity over his entire form!

Emily did nothing as she watched him die, taking in all of the details. She was amazed at how well her improvised plan had worked. The length of time for which he managed to scream out surprised her, though it meant he suffered.

He lived as a coward, and so it fits that his cowardice kills him.

When it was all done, she was looking at the charred remains; he was finally revealed as an inept monster, his visage having transformed, his jaw was hanging limply, what remained of his blacked hair was standing up.

“Good riddance,” she said as she turned and walked out of the place, shotgun still in hand.

It was time to double back towards the exit. She took great comfort in knowing there was one less murderer calling himself doctor running amok. She felt like she had just performed a great public service. The fact that she had managed it without needing to shoot the gun further confirmed her that it was destiny.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Emily Marsh

Emily continued down the path that she was told to go by the inmate she interrogated. She felt more comfortable and more hopeful that she could get out of the prison, without the risk of being killed. It wasn't until she entered the kitchen was when she immediately heard-

crunch

She wasn't alone. Was there still some guards that gone to the way that Emily was heading? It didn't like likely. The kitchen was messed up, but it wasn't until she heard another noise and noticed the bloody footprints on the floor was when she saw a...unpleasant sight.

The guard with the slit throat lying on the floor wasn't what concerned Emily. It was the man that was hunched over, as there was a corpse in front of him. His face was within the body's chest, as there was a severed heart nearby that looked like it was torn out from the body by hand. Emily seemed to recognize the body than the actual killer, who didn't seem to care, as Emily raised her shotgun at him.

Wait...

Was that..? Was that supposed to be Judith Kernan? Emily didn't got the chance to get encounter her in person, but Appleholm tried to manipulate Emily into seeing Kernan as a foe. If Kernan was truly a part of the conspiracy against Emily, then she didn't have to worry. What she did have to worry was the man that was starting to notice Emily. He tilted his head, as he turned slowly to look at Emily.

What the..?

It was Henry Lynch. His face was covered in blood, where he let a strip of flesh fall from his teeth. His smile was still there, where his eyes looked at Emily. "Emily! You're still alive I see!" In the most oddest moment, Emily was face to face with a man that was caked with blood, who was reacting to Emily all cheery and perky. "I needed to take care of some business with the warden here.." Lynch dug into some pockets, where he pulled out a set of car keys. "The captain here was trying to abandon her own sinking ship. It's best we get out of here, before everything goes under the water completely."

Emily couldn't believe what she encountered. She had befriended an ally, but now said ally had just finished up devouring the insides of the late warden. The problem was that Lynch also had some car keys that could help get them out of there, once and for all. Emily needed to trust him, even though she thought that Lynch was unpredictable.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

At first Emily was shocked and unnerved though not so much horrified. She had been through so much darkness, in a twisted way, nothing much surprised her anymore.

She realized she needed an ally; though Lynch couldn’t be completely trusted, she felt a special connection.

Strength in numbers. Glenn said he had a part to play too.

She lowered the shotgun.

“I am very happy to see you Henry. The captain of the ship you say?” she said at length. “Do you mean that’s the warden? Judith Kernan?”

From the look on his face, that was an affirmative.

“Excellent. I cleaned out a few doctors myself,” she said, smiling. “However, you’ve just taken out a big name on my list. This is holy work. I thank you for it.”

It occurred to her that he was thanking a literal cannibal, but then again, these doctors were truly horrible human beings (as a result of her experiences here, Emily was starting to develop a serious prejudice against the psychiatric profession as a whole, perhaps it was unavoidable).

Then she remembered; the heavy guns were coming.

“We need to get out of here,” she said. “There was a radio, I heard the police are coming and they are bringing in SWATS. We’re on a timer.”

They were in the laundry which meant that the parking was close by.

There were still many threats lurking around, who knew if the parking was safe or not? Even before the SWATs showed up, there could be other crazies and other guards. Lynch seemed a competent fighter so between the two of them, they could hold their own to an extent. Still, it was best to stock up on the tools and weapons.

She turned around and saw the fallen guard; his throat had been cut. “This is quite the handiwork,” she remarked.

There was a fallen gun.

“You prefer knives?” she asked him, noting his prison shiv. “Might want to pick that up. Do you shoot? Growing up on a farm, I’ve had my fair share of practice.”

She suggested that he take the revolver next to the head guard. If not, then she would take the belt of the guard, attach it around her waist and use the attached holster to carry for herself an extra sidearm. Still, it may be better to spread out the firearms.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m sure ready to get out of this place. I’ve got a lot of work to do outside.”

[Main Nation Ministry]

Henry Lynch

"Found her trying to escape from this place. Should've brought more protection." Lynch said, as Emily mentioned that she took care of some doctors, along with Kernan being a name on her list. "That sounds wonderful. I did make sure that Kernan was given the opportunity to become transformed into a masterpiece." Lynch mentioned, as he stepped away from Kernan's body, giving Emily a good look at how he torn the warden open.

“We need to get out of here,” she said. “There was a radio, I heard the police are coming and they are bringing in SWATS. We’re on a timer.”

"I'm aware of the SWAT. Judith got the door open for us. It's best I drive out of here. I might know where to find us a place to lay low." Lynch said, as Emily mentioned the revolver on the floor near the dead guard. "Take the gun for later. I prefer knives myself, but I take pleasure at a hunting rifle that I use. We'll figure out a way to get some of my belongings, but for now, let's get out of here."

Lynch's timing couldn't have been perfect, as the two heard a rumble from the other side of the prison, as an explosion had ripped apart a wing of the correctional facility, due to a gas leak, caused by some desperate inmates in escaping. Both Emily and Henry rushed down the hallway to get to the underground parking structure, as Lynch used the car keys that he snatched from Kernan to find the warden's car. Sure enough, there was a bright red car that stood out from the rest of the cars in the lot.

"We'll find another car. This one is too flashy to go by." Lynch mentioned, as he unlocked the car door, getting into the driver's seat. Lynch turned the key in the ignition, as Emily buckled herself up. "Hang on!" Lynch said, as he slammed on the gas, peeling out of the parking space, where he cruised down past several support pillars, as he was looking for the exit out of the garage.

Around that point, several inmates had indirectly followed Marsh's and Lynch's escape route, as they were arriving at the parking garage, just to see the duo make their getaway. Up ahead for Lynch, he saw a gated shutter blocking the exit out of the garage, but he kept his foot on the gas pedal hard, as he braced for the impact. Emily was probably scared a bit, thinking that Lynch was going to get them both killed, but the car busted through the shutter, as it went up the ramp to ground level. "Figured that thing was flimsy!" Lynch yelled in excitement, as the car ended up in front of a dramatic sight in the pouring rain. From the car, Emily could see that some of the prison was on fire. Several lucky inmates had managed to get through outside, where Lynch nearly tried to run one over for kicks. Emily didn't know if Lynch was trying to swerve around from them or he was trying to actually hit them.

The most important thing, however, was that Lynch was driving away from the prison. Far from the hell that Emily has been through from being locked up. Lynch put the windshield wipers on the maximum setting, as he slowed down, since he could see several police lights ahead. "Shhh.." Lynch made sure that Emily didn't make a noise, as he pulled over to the side of the road. Several SWAT vans and a bunch of police cruisers sped past them in the rain, as Lynch waited until the coast was clear.

Lynch continued down the wet road, as he drove into the city of Starkweather. Emily didn't want to go into the heart of the pestilence that had wronged her, but Lynch seemed to have had a plan with both of their interests.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

On the way out of the facility, Emily took the belt off the guard and put it on herself. She made sure the revolver was properly holstered. Then she picked up the shotgun and followed Lynch out of the facility. Her eyes darted left and right as they rushed through the parking; she was looking for any enemies but thankfully, the coast was clear.

"We'll find another car. This one is too flashy to go by." Lynch mentioned, as he unlocked the car door, getting into the driver's seat. Lynch turned the key in the ignition, as Emily buckled herself up. "Hang on!" Lynch said, as he slammed on the gas, peeling out of the parking space, where he cruised down past several support pillars, as he was looking for the exit out of the garage.

Around that point, several inmates had indirectly followed Marsh's and Lynch's escape route, as they were arriving at the parking garage, just to see the duo make their getaway. Up ahead for Lynch, he saw a gated shutter blocking the exit out of the garage, but he kept his foot on the gas pedal hard, as he braced for the impact. Emily was probably scared a bit, thinking that Lynch was going to get them both killed, but the car busted through the shutter, as it went up the ramp to ground level. "Figured that thing was flimsy!" Lynch yelled in excitement, as the car ended up in front of a dramatic sight in the pouring rain. From the car, Emily could see that some of the prison was on fire. Several lucky inmates had managed to get through outside, where Lynch nearly tried to run one over for kicks. Emily didn't know if Lynch was trying to swerve around from them or he was trying to actually hit them.

As soon as the car left the parking, Emily had the good sense to lower the shotgun and prop it at an angle so it wasn’t visible from the windows. If the police came by, this car didn’t need an additional reason to be stopped. This proved to be a good call.

Lynch put the windshield wipers on the maximum setting, as he slowed down, since he could see several police lights ahead. "Shhh.." Lynch made sure that Emily didn't make a noise, as he pulled over to the side of the road. Several SWAT vans and a bunch of police cruisers sped past them in the rain, as Lynch waited until the coast was clear.

Emily couldn’t believe it. It was FINALLY over. She choked back considerable emotion.

It had truly been a hell, where hours had turned to days and days to months and years. She had long lost track of time and suffered all too much. There was hope now, so much hope. She couldn’t believe it; NO MORE of that padded prison! No more duplicitous doctors! No more of that awful food! No more looming threat of execution or mutilation from the doctors!

“Farewell Starkweather Correctional, hello to the free world,” she said with some irony, her eyes wide with disbelief and relief.

They had DONE it, against all odds! It was a victory truly worthy of Saratoga and Yorktown.

Destiny has favoured the righteous and now the real project will begin. It must begin.

Kernan is crossed out, but that leaves more than ten others. At the very least, and I’ve yet to learn most of their names.

“I cannot thank you enough,” Emily said. “For making my goal of freedom come true. There are massive mountains of blood and bones ahead, but thanks to you, I can now begin my long climb. It is now something that I can try to reach. There is a large list of people I have to attend to, the conspiracy that did away with my family and so many other innocents. Do you want to help me with this?”

She looked at him. “I really think we make a great team. However, I also understand that this is my fight first and foremost. Is this something that interests you?”

As Emily looked beyond the window panes, her eyes glazed over the landscape… the roads, the trees, the lamp posts, and the effects of the rain pattering against the overworking windshield wipers.

A long period of confinement had truly changed her perspectives on things. She know saw the glory in the little things.

“This is… so beautiful,” she said out loud.

Lynch had re-assured her that there was a place to go. She couldn't wait to get off the road. Any place now was a welcome change from the horrors of the asylum. And for once there might actually be some good food.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Henry Lynch

“I cannot thank you enough,” Emily said. “For making my goal of freedom come true. There are massive mountains of blood and bones ahead, but thanks to you, I can now begin my long climb. It is now something that I can try to reach. There is a large list of people I have to attend to, the conspiracy that did away with my family and so many other innocents. Do you want to help me with this?”

"Mountains of blood and bones, you say?" Lynch was intrigued and sickeningly curious, while he was driving.

“I really think we make a great team. However, I also understand that this is my fight first and foremost. Is this something that interests you?”

"I don't have a choice in the matter. Not that you're having me join your side against my will. Whoever tried to waste some of my time in that prison is going to be a pain on my side, unless I could get rid of them. I do need to find some possessions that were taken from me that help with my hobbies. I'll help you. It will give me less to worry about in the future.." Lynch explained, as even though Marsh was amazed at the sights of the cold and dark outside of the background, Emily would eventually come across several buildings, as the two were in the urban jungle. The comforts of the outdoors were replaced with an oppressive concrete environment. A far cry from the farm life that Emily enjoyed.

"I had scouted this city before I was taken away. There's a quiet neighborhood that I noted earlier. Old Town, they call it. Spotted some gang members, while I was there. But they wouldn't be bothered by us. Especially, since they won't stay out in the rain." Lynch explained, as he slowed the car down, keeping the inside of the car pitch dark, so no one wouldn't notice the bloody clothes that both Emily and Lynch had. The heavy rain did make it hard to see the inside of people's cars from the outside, so this worked in Lynch's favor.

Lynch slowed to a near complete stop, as he was looking at something on a wall in front of an old-looking apartment building. He was trying to see a poster that was under a streetlamp, which read "Rooms for Rent" in bold red letters. "Still up.." Lynch muttered, as he pulled the car into the alley next to the apartment. It wasn't much shelter from the rain, but it was completely deserted and dark. Lynch kept the car unlocked, as he gave Emily his shiv. "Head outside and wash your clothes. If anyone tries something, you know what to do. Keep the guns hidden, too. I'm going to have a talk with the landlord of this establishment.." Lynch said, as he got out of the car, leaving Emily alone in the alley and inside of the car.

Lynch stepped outside, as he was letting the rain wash the psych ward outfit he had on. He was getting rid of all the bloodstains as good as possible, but he slipped into the building.

---

Otto

Otto was the manager of the Old Town apartment building, where he was currently enjoying himself in the lobby of the building, behind the desk. His method of enjoyment was reading a pornographic magazine, while he was having a date with his hand, oblivious to anyone who would enter. Otto was too focused with the imagery that was giving him pleasure, that he didn't notice Lynch slip in through the door. Lynch stood there for a good minute, until Otto finally noticed.

"Woah! Woah! Did you just fucking sneak up on me?!" Otto said, as he immediately zipped up his pants. "I came in through the door." Lynch softly said, though Otto wasn't pleased that some creep, possibly some NXK addict, just caught him jacking off. "Fuck off! You have no business here!" Otto yelled, until Lynch stood his ground. "You have rooms for rent, correct?"

"Yeah...what about it?" Otto said, where Lynch didn't need an answer, until Otto realized what he wanted. "Fine.." Otto got up, as he checked some of the available rooms. The apartment was only three floors, but there were still spare rooms, since people were moving out from the city, due to the high crime. Otto grabbed a key, as he had Lynch follow him some stairs.

"I do need to ask, is it possible to obtain a room tour?" Lynch said, as he followed Otto. "A room tour? What is this, a vlog?"
"I'm bringing in some furniture for myself."
"Hey, you don't need to bring furniture. Each room has a bunch of thrift store shit to make a living room or two."
"Do you happen to live here by any chance?"
"Yeah, but I keep things tidy." Otto simply said, but Lynch immediately took an interest with this fact.

Otto unlocked a door, which led into an empty apartment room. Sure enough, the furniture looked like it was taken from a garage sale. Lynch wasn't sure about a couch he saw, which he believed was left outside on the curb. Definitely full of lice. Henry saw a lamp with a long power cord, as he was getting something ready, while Otto's attention was turned around, due to wanting to show Lynch the bathroom. A bathroom that was way too filthy to explain in full detail. Lynch crept behind Otto, as the two were in the bathroom, as Otto was showing Lynch the shower and bathtub. A patch of dried blood and hair at one end of it.

"I can't afford cold water for tenants. It's why the price for a room here is 30 dollars a night. Also, you better not invite your fucking friends for parties, or I get complaints up the ass." Otto said, as Lynch made sure that the landlord was completely distracted. "I do need to ask.. what is that.. Was there an accident?" Lynch pointed out the dried blood stain at the bathtub.

"Don't worry about that.. Someone OD'd in the tub. It's not like someone was murdered here." Otto explained. "Unfortunately, you're wrong.."
"Wha-" Otto didn't get the chance to speak some more. Lynch wrapped the power cord around him like a garrote, as he kept a foot at Otto's back, as he was getting thrills from the strangulation of the landlord. Otto struggled against Lynch, trying to get the cord off, but it was due to the element of surprise, along with Lynch pinning his body against the edge of the tub, which caused Otto to succumb to death.

---

Emily Marsh

Emily was waiting on why it was taking Lynch so long, especially since she was shivering cold from getting wet in the rain, until there was a tap at the car window. Sure enough, it was Lynch, where he beckoned Emily out of the car into the rain. "Grab the guns and remain quiet. I've snagged us a room to borrow." Lynch said, as he made sure that Emily carried the weapons into the apartment building, while it was still deserted.

Instead of leading Emily to the room where he strangled Otto, Lynch brought her to a completely room that was upstairs. It was the landlord's flat, as Lynch pulled out a key from Otto's belongings, that he looted from his pockets. A turn of the key and Lynch let Emily into the flat.

The flat was still in a worn-down condition, but it was significantly a better deal than what Lynch was offered from Otto. The furniture was more simple. There was an extra room for a kitchen. A desk and chair were in a corner of the living room, where a large laptop and printer was nearby. A makeshift office for Otto to do work on the apartment as a landlord. There was a bed, though it looked small for two people. Emily didn't understand the pictures of a man she didn't recognize on the walls. A lack of family photos. There was a poster for a French play from the Art Nouveau era, along with some pictures of planets.

"How did you afford all of this?" A question that was on the lines of what Emily wanted to ask. "I've done some negotiations with the landlord in lending us his place. Don't worry about him. I did some convincing.." Lynch said simply to Emily.

What Emily didn't know, though she was aware that Lynch probably killed him, was that Otto was currently dead in a filthy bathtub inside of a locked apartment room, which no one could enter.

However, that was the least of Emily's worries. They were in a quiet shelter. Away from the harm of the prison and still cozy to call a new home for now.

[Infected Mushroom]

Emily Marsh

When Emily stepped into the flat, her brown hair and white jumpsuit were soaked with rainwater. As instructed, she had largely washed away the bloodstains, though somehow bits of pink lingered. She had managed to get the guns into the place without being seen.

Emily looked around the apartment flat, being rather impressed.

“Yes, I like this,” she said. “I like this place very much. This will do as a headquarters of sorts for now. Thank you so much for this.”

She looked around. “It’s a great place to stock supplies, enjoy shelter and rest, and to make further plans. Well… anything is better than… you know… what we had to deal with before.”

It gave her the shudders to even think back.

The name of that horrible place should never be uttered again; it is truly a horror on this Earth.

Noting the photo of the landlord, Emily had the sense there was more to Lynch’s story. Possibly the landlord was dead though under the current circumstances, with the threat of them being nabbed and thrown back into that godawful place at any moment, she could certainly see the urgency in securing shelter.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Sacrifices. I get it. I’ve had months (or was it years now) to think it over and I see no other way. The project we must undertake now, it will have to be a blood-soaked one. We must use and take every advantage, especially when we are in dire straits. Under the circumstances, it is either total victory or total defeat.”

The old Emily could never have made it this far; she would have died in those walls. But the new Emily, she was determined to make it here and much much further.

In an inexplicable way, Emily was starting to trust the stranger she was with. Perhaps it was the intangible sense of connection and purpose. Perhaps it was because they had both voluntarily participated in the killing of enemies in the asylum faction; she had often heard that bonds forged in combat were among the strongest.

“Alright then,” Emily said. “Let’s see. We’re going to need some new clothes. Meanwhile, let’s see what else we can get our hands on. We should also do a check up on the food supply. How well do you know this neighborhood? What can we access from here?”

Emily began to rummage through the place, looking in particular for clothes (she looked forward to the day she could get out of that awful white jumpsuit, though she had to wonder whether the clothes would fit at all), food and other things that could be useful. It would also be good to keep tabs on any medical supplies, if there were any in the house.

So far, most of the utilities in the house were up and that was a good thing; this hideout was starting to look really functional. She did manage to find a towel which she used to dry herself the best she could from the rainwater.

She noticed the laptop and she was wondering whether it could be accessed. An internet connection would be invaluable for the war. First and foremost, she’d like to access the news, to find out what had happened since her incarceration at the asylum. If that wasn’t an option, perhaps there were some newspapers or magazines around? Starkweather Correctional had restricted the flow of information, it was important to find out anything her enemies didn’t want her to know and whether there were any ways to exploit that.

The meat processing plant. What became of it? What's happened to my Gladstone since?

In all honesty though, with everything she's since learned about humanity, she doubted there had been any voices questioning the accuracy of her sentence to Starkweather Correctional. She was past disappointment and disbelief now; she'd never make herself vulnerable like that again. She fully expected the disinformation to have worked.

Everything was still a bit of a blur and she was so glad to be spending the night in a more home-like environment at last.

After getting some familiarity with the place, Emily eventually glanced at a clock and realized that it was a truly late hour. It had already been evening when the thunderstorm had started and so much had happened since.

“Well then…” she said at length. “This has been quite the unforgettable evening.”

She glanced at the bed. “The bed is on the small side. I suppose we can take turns? … What do you say we play a game? Whoever wins get the bed this night, the next night we switch? Do you know any games?”