Prison of Blood and Lies

Ten

I grinned, and for the first time in a long time, I had hope. What happened to me and what Cynthia went through shouldn’t happen to anyone. Not on my watch.

“So, when do we start? And where?” I was ready. Surely the ancient angel could show me a few tricks and have me out the door in no time.

“Patience. You look like hell, Alice. I would know,” he said with a wink. “Let’s get you rested first. Come, I’ll give you the tour.” He motioned for me to follow and moved to the office’s exit.

He started down the hall without waiting for my response. “Tour it is,” I mumbled.

He walked in the direction I’d come before, the dead end hallway. I had to sprint to catch up. My muscles resisted the movement and I felt gratitude that we wouldn’t start any sort of lessons right away.

“These are the offices that were left over from before. They’re all empty save some boxes and extra storage. I turned that one into a makeshift bedroom last night when you arrived. It’s an interior room, no windows, easy access to the washroom at the end of the hall. Ideal for guests.” He waved his hand in true tour-guide fashion in the direction of the bathroom.

“Now back this way, down the other hallway is the access to the meat and potatoes of our work here.” We walked back the way we can and down the hallway on the other side of the foyer area. The hallway on this side was much shorter than the other. It ended abruptly with a single silver-colored elevator in the middle of the passageway.

Gemba pulled his necklace off again and inserted the key into a hole just above the elevator call button. The door slid open and we stepped in the elevator.

The inside was spacious but grim. The elevator was clearly for business only. No paneling or soft music warmed the space. The doors slid shut and the elevator glided down.

“Only down?”

“Mm-hmm. Our clientele tend to be as sun-sensitive as you are and, well, windows aren’t really a great decorating choice for prisons, you know?” he joked.

As we descended, my senses were overwhelmed. Fear, anger, desperation, and sadness clouded the air. I swayed on my feet and grabbed the hand rail in the elevator for balance.

We grinded to a halt and the doors slid open. The basement of this building was truly a prison. Gemba had not been exaggerating. The floor was cement and the layout wide open, exactly as one would expect a factory floor to be. What was unexpected was the cells that lined two of the four walls. There must have been a dozen divided spaces with heavy steel doors.

“Hey! Hello? We’re starving in here,” a male voice shouted and it echoed eerily through the space.

Gemba turned his head so that he faced me. “Ignore the riffraff. They’ll say anything to convince you of their innocence and, trust me, they’re far from innocent. They deserve worse than what they’re getting here.”

He turned his attention to the vast space before us and opened his arms. “Welcome to the prison. This is where justice happens for people who’ve suffered like you.” He held both his arms out wide and puffed out his chest. I could tell that Gemba was proud of the work he did here.

“Over there is solitary. It’s empty now, but I want to be clear. It’s off limits. Those scumbags who go in there are too powerful for you to deal with alone.” He pointed at an enclosed area that looked like a separate room.

“And, finally, there is my favorite room over there. The interrogation room. I’ll let you get more acquainted with it when you’re feeling more like yourself.”

We stepped back in the elevator and returned to the main floor.

“What’s on the upper floors?”

“Oh, those? My private living quarters. There’s nothing really special up there. I’m pretty boring.”

“Yeah, right. An angel running a prison in this s**t hole city. So boring.”

He laughed but didn’t say anything else.

I yawned and thought of sleep. I trudged behind Gemba, hoping that the tour was complete. We rounded the corner to the office and I let myself into the room where I’d slept before.

In my exhausted haze, one detail from earlier just didn’t compute. “So, where’d you get the bed from?”

“Oh, that?” He waved his hand dismissively. “I had it brought down from upstairs. It’s just an extra bed. For when I have guests. I hope you find it comfortable.”

He swung the door closed behind me and left me in peace. I collapsed on top of the plush bedding and was asleep before I’d even managed to slip off my shoes.

I opened my eyes and stretched. I’d had no idea how long I’d slept but the stiffness and pain I had been feeling earlier was gone. I stretched and looked around the room. It was bland, definitely a business office turned into a sleeping space. Something red in the corner of the room caught my eye. My duffel bag. Gemba really did make sure my belongings were gathered.

I opened it. My clothes. I picked at the leather jacket and leggings I’d been wearing for, how long, exactly?

I quickly freshened up in the neighboring bathroom and walked to Gemba’s office.

As I rounded the corner, he looked up from his computer screen and appraised me.

“Ah, you look much better. How are you feeling?”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Perfect,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get downstairs. You’re going to have fun today.”

My fangs itched and my throat burned from thirst. Since I didn’t even know what day it was, I had no idea how long it’d been since my last meal.

“Before we get started, I’m, ah, hungry. Before I got my meals and my work done at the same time. I might need to step out before we begin.”

Gemba winked knowingly at me.

“That won’t be a problem for you. Tonight, your dinner is a captive audience, so to speak.”

I raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“What does that mean?”

“We’re going to practice and improve your interrogation skills. You’ll have the opportunity to drink your fill then.”

“You want me to kill the prisoner?”

“Oh, no. Well, not yet, at least. I’m told that our kind is much more filling than regular old humans. You won’t need to drain the poor bastard completely.”

More filling? That could be interesting. My hunger only grew more intense as we talked.

“Alright, Gemba. Let’s get started.”