The 'Full Moon Decapitations' one of the most cruelest recent crimes committed in Trade City East and it involved six headless bodies, four adults and two children. The crime scene was a sight to behold and nearly every investigator on the scene had either looked on sickly or were over to the side hunched and vomiting. All six bodies were without heads and the heads could not be found at all, at the scene of the crime was one man in his twenties. He was one of the suspects in the case and it turned out after some investigation that he was the one that committed the heinous deed. How he had beheaded all six of them, his mentality at the time, it was all great points of discussion online and in the news. This man was currently serving six consecutive life sentences at Light Bay Supermax prison. The man had tried pleading his innocence as all criminals would but there was no doubt to the authorities and the judge that the man was guilty beyond a shadow of doubt. This man now sat on a metal bench top with a tray in hand chewing his dry food. Next to him was a cup of water and his eyes seemed all but dead quite unlike what they showed to be in court, one filled with absolute terror and pleading. He seemed to have accepted his fate at this point and all the prisoners sat at least several feet away from him as they all talked. In prison pretty much everyone avoided save the select few people that tried to prove their toughness by punching out someone that had decapitated six people in cold blood. The guard however intervened in pretty much any situation that involved him and a tussle and they took care of it very handily and therein his interactions with prisoners were at a minimum. He had surmised that in the near future he would probably be moved to more secure cell but right now he was allowed to interact, on somewhat a base level, with other prisoners, a privilege he did not take to. He sighed as he grabbed his cup of water and took a gulp and then pushed both the tray and cup away, proceeding to get up off the bench. His hunched back and indented eyes provided a haggard wraith like look to him. He had thinned out a lot with his time in prison and he was never all that hungry anymore and to top it off he couldn't sleep properly either, well he couldn't sleep at all was the short and long of it. He straddled back to his cell with short steps as his eyes scanned the walls and cells, his eyes meeting with a few others' even as they all actively tried to avoid him. He saw set of feet at the furthest edge of his vision and as he walked along, looking down, the feet got closer and closer until whoever it was bumped into him and he fell back without much resistance.
"Heya two-two," said a voice from above, if he had the energy he would groan at this point.
A man's hands reached out, grabbed him and pulled him up and his eyes met with a dark brown pair. The man had wild hair and a scrape of what appeared to be a beard growing. His eyes looked wide and menacing and his mouth was set into a smirking smile. He was a darker skinned man and one of the few in prison that was not scared at all of him. The guards had struck him out several times but he kept coming back as if it wasn't a concern to him at all. There was no point in fighting this, the guards would soon break it up anyhow. Suddenly he felt a blow to his gut and he gasped out as his eyes watered, he could swear he felt his ribs break. Another to his jaw sent his head whipping back and he felt a crack in the back of his neck. This was probably the first time his body had experienced movement of this degree in two weeks.
"No' much offe speake' r yeh?" he said in an accent that heavily butchered the words.
No…he really wasn't. He had spoke all he can before coming here, now he really liked his quiet. He gritted his teeth ready to bear the next blow which was again to his gut, aimed a little higher this time and this one properly winded him as he choked out a cough. The man also known as prisoner 116 grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to see a most distasteful scene of snot and tears running down his face. He would be embarrassed if he wasn't in so much pain. He groaned in response to another punch to his gut, at this rate he was sure he would vomit, though what exactly he did not know. There was not much food he had eaten, there was not much water he had drunk, he was a husk at this point.
"R' ya expectin' dem' guards?" asked 116 with a sinister smile plastering his face.
Again he would nod but he was just too tired right now and in way too much pain. 116 leaned into his ear as he felt the hot breath hit him.
"I got news fo' ya'," 116 whispered and he could feel the grin on the man's face as emotions and whatever was in his stomach rolled around. "They ain't comin', not 'dis time, 'least no' till I bea' u to pas'e."
"Ohh," he groaned out in response to what 116 said.
What came next was nothing short of torturing brutality. He was thrown up against the wall, the fist planted in his face and gut several more times and as he slid down 116 laid into him with kicks and at this point he was feasibly sure he wasn't coming out this alive.
"Haven' had 'dis much fun since 'dat time I bea' dat a'hole of brother up bloo'y," he yelled out in between kicks.
Funnily enought to him right now, the butchering of words disturbed him far more than kicks. At this point he felt fairly numb and his vision had begun to slip. At the edge of his hearing he heard a cacophony of noises blaring, talking, static from radios and he finally sunk into darkness.
***
Constable Jerome Elliot Hall had appeared at Viewbridge Cemetery situated at the edge of Trade City East. This was the place where the Naumanns, the victims of the 'Full Moon Decapitations' were buried. The immediate family of the Naumanns had all been involved in the tragic accident and their extended family came into do the funeral arrangements after which they had left. The case had after all been solved, there had been no need for the stay back in this city, even more so when it reminded them of the brutal manner in which their relatives were murdered. Constable Jerome Elliot Hall was however here on a different matter, he had been investigating the case of the 'Full Moon Decapitations' parallel to the original investigation and he had found some information that gave him suspicion that the guilty party in the case might still be at large. It was during his investigation that he had met an interesting informant, a mouse like man with a squeaky noise that found himself a home in the city's less fortunate circles, with the homeless and the beggars. He maintained his life style money from being an informant on several cases and in this case he had come forward offering information to him. Jerome had no reason to refuse and now found himself in this graveyard, a location chosen by the mousey man whose real names was Joseph Brock also known as the 'Rat' in his immediate street circles for the jobs he did. He never had a side putting his feet on both boats and switching to whichever was safer for him, whether that be the police or the criminals. Fairly soon he saw a hunched man walking in through barely lighted gates of the Viewbridge Cemetery. The man was short and wore a long coat, something akin to a trench coat, it was dirty and as he came closer Jerome could also see halls in it. He wore trousers and slippers both grimy with dirt and his trousers had what appeared to be food splotches on there. His shirt was different as it had several huge halls and it looked a dirty brown color.
"Hello there constable," he said, his jittery manner of speaking coming across as funny to Jerome especially with his squeaky voice.
"Joseph…" Jerome acknowledged the man in front of him.
"Good that you turned up," said Joseph, or the Rat as he held out his hand, no doubt for a shake.
"You had information I need," said Jerome with a raised eyebrow, he refused the hand shake as soon as he saw those hands which appeared as if it had come straight out of the city's sewers.
"Uh..ah, yes," said Joseph nodding. "Information, before that I have to warn you constable, there are some large powers at play here."
Jerome frowned, this case, he had expected it was not so cut and dry. Why would a man who had relation to this family suddenly attack and decapitate six people, including the kids.
"So it was a cover up then," said Jerome nodding.
"Ah, yes," said Joseph nodding as well though he couldn't tell if it was just a nod or the jitters.
"Well, what else can you give me?" asked Jerome impatiently. "You didn't call me out here to give me vague inferences that I could figure out on my own did you?"
"Oh, uh no," said Joseph shaking his head frantically, he seemed really nervous and frowning Jerome took a step forward whilst Joseph responded by immediately jumping back. "There are some secrets you shouldn't look into, some people didn't like what you were doing constable Hall."
"Joseph…" warned Jerome when he felt some movements behind him, he tensed himself, ready to draw his firearm. "Joseph what did you do?"
"Sorry constable Hall," said Joseph with a wry smile.
Jerome's gut dropped as he immediately drew his pistol spinning around. A metal pole caught his arm and flung the pistol out of it. Cursing he withdrew his arm holding it as several people, five by count came out from the shadows of the trees that obscured the graves. He looked towards his firearm, he could reach it, he definitely could but then one of them came forward and picked it up.
"Who are you people?" he asked frowning.
They all wore black suits with sunglasses on in the middle of the night of all things. All of them looked fighting fit and tall and they all had a mean look on their faces. They did not reply to Jerome question as the closed in on him. Suddenly he felt a push behind him as he stumbled right into the arms of the black man. They latched on and held him in a vice like grip. He tried to fight but the men proved to be superior in strength holding him still. One of them with vicious snarl came forward, drawing a knife out from behind his suit, it was large, like a hunting knife and Jerome cursed himself.
"Dammit…who the hell are you people?" he asked snarling as he bucked about trying to escape.
He looked towards Joseph who looked at him apologetically and he snarled.
"Joseph you rat!" he yelled out. "If I get out of here I will string you!"
Joseph at this point wasn't paying much attention to Jerome's threats as he looked between the knife and Jerome. After gulping in fear and looking at the five men in black one last time he tried to bolt right out of the cemetery only to be stopped by one of the five who grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him back.
"Wh…what are you guys doing?" squeaked out Joseph, clutching at the hand grasped around the back of his neck. "I did what you asked."
Jerome just sighed, it seemed like the case was going to end today in a complete manner.
"I don't even know you guys," said Jerome in a slight pleading.
There was a vicious snarl by the man who held the hunting knife and he thrust it into his stomach with ferocity, the pain took a moment to register as Jerome roared and bucked. There was another stab, and another as he felt blood building up in his throat. He had kept screaming all the while and after several stabs and ensuring that his internals had been completely ripped and skewed the man holding him let go and Jerome fell to the ground with a thud and groan as blood leaked out of both his stomach and his mouth. The last thing he saw in his fading vision was a squealing Joseph being held up by his throat. There was crack and his vision faded to black.
***
242 as he was called in prison woke up chained to his bed. The last thing he remembered was the most vicious beating of his life. He was most likely in the infirmary, the medical wing of this prison and soon he saw a nurse walk past.
"Excuse me," he groaned his voice however was a faded growl.
"Excuse me!" he said louder.
Suddenly the curtains were pulled apart and in came the warden, a doctor and the nurse. The warden he recognized easily, the man was still fresh in his mind cackling as he sent the prisoners into the supermax. The doctor and the nurse were new to him, both did not look like the ones on the job when he visited the infirmary prior and he had visited it yesterday.
"You've regained consciousness 242," said the warden with a grin.
He bucked as the cuffs on his hands resisted his movement.
"No need to struggle 242," said the warden. "You won't be going anywhere."
"Why am I cuffed," he asked and then groaned as pain came shooting through his stomach.
He however got no more answers as the warden turned to the doctor.
"You're ready for the procedure?" asked the warden and the doctor nodded.
"Is it going to get loud?" asked the warden.
"It shouldn't," said the doctor who looked at 242 and then frowned.
He meanwhile had no idea of what was going on but he could feel something drop in his stomach, whatever was happening, it did not sound appealing to him at all.
"We cover his mouth," said the beautiful looking nurse with a light smile which at first would've seemed angelic to him but he could now sense hidden hint of malevolence.
"Yes," agreed the doctor. "With that the noise should not be too much."
"Wha…what are you all talking about?" he asked, the fear apparent in his voice, as eh struggled against the cuffs in vain.
The warden turned to him, the demented grin still apparent on his face.
"We're talking about a medical procedure 242," said the warden. "A procedure I've no doubt you'll enjoy and find very useful in the future."
"Wha…what procedure?" 242 croaked out.
"That…" said the warden leaning in, he could smell the fried chicken in the warden's breath now. "Is a surprise."
The nurse left along with the doctor leaving the warden alone to take care of him. The warden looked at him and finally shook his head.
"I don't know who you've messed with 242," said the warden. "But they're a lot more evil than the evilest sons of bitches I've seen…and I've seen a lot."
"I…I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I didn't do anything."
"No you didn't," agreed the warden and he looked at the man in surprise.
"Th…then why?" he asked.
"Wrong place, wrong time," said the warden in the calmest coolest voice possible and he felt the dread envelope his heart.
"I was framed," he said again and the warden nodded.
"You won't be the last."
The nurse and the doctor returned carrying various things in their hand. The nurse carried a gag of some sort whilst the doctor had a tray in his hand which carried a small hand-size drill like equipment along with a small tube containing something set to the side of it.
"Prep him," said the doctor as he adjusted his glasses and he saw those cold eyes for the first time, it was the same doctor that had testified against him in court.
"Yo-."
He was cut off however as the nurse secured the gag around his mouth tightly. He tried to speak but it all came out in grunts. His shouts were muffled and in horror he watched as the doctor set the tube up in the holder of the drilling machine and a needle jutted out.
"What are you going to do to me?" he asked but it all came out in mumbled nonsense of sounds.
He tried to scream again. He was innocent, he really hadn't done anything, so why? The doctor closed in on him as the nurse looked at him with a friendly smile. The warden suddenly held out his hands.
"Wait, I have one final thing to say," said the warden. "Someone asked me to say this to you 242."
He stopped struggling and paid attention.
"Your mother, she killed herself," said the warden and suddenly something snapped in his mind.
His mother…she…killed herself. Everything he had done, the one person he wanted to tell that he was innocent, she was dead. No, there was no way she would kill herself. He looked at the warden with a look of pure, absolute unrivalled hate and the warden chuckled.
"There's nothing here for you now 242," said the warden and then he motioned for the doctor to get to it.
He struggled and bucked as the doctor neared, so much so the doctor had trouble doing whatever it was he needed to do. Finally the warden and nurse had held him down as the doctor neared with the deadly contraption. He felt the pain as the drill made contact with his forehead and there was buzzing sound. He let out a soundless scream as the buzzing sound in his head grew, there was pain, so much so that he went to hell and back several times. The doctor without remorse drilled in and finally there was a hiss as whatever chemical was in the tube released itself into his head and his eyes rolled back.
"Damn…he looked like a twig but he put up a hell of a struggle," said the warden letting out a long breath as he stood back up straight, letting go of 242 who laid on the bed motionless.
"It's done," said the doctor.
"This isn't your first time is it doc?" asked the warden with a grim smile.
"You've received your prize, we've done our job," said the doctor. "Don't look into it any further, unless you want to end up here as well."
The warden raised his hands in a sign of mock surrender, "I was just curious, but this is particularly brutal is it not, I mean I've seen some shit but this is above that."
"It was deemed to be necessary," said the doctor. "We couldn't kill him without arousing suspicion and he couldn't be allowed to speak."
"So you lobotomized him," said the warden sardonically. "Your boss, whoever he is, is twisted."
"I serve no one," said the doctor as he placed the bloody drill down on the tray and handed the tray of to the nurse who took it away.
The eyes that 242 still held open slowly closed as if he had heard what he wanted to hear and several hundred miles away in Viewbridge Cemetery the dead body of Jerome Elliot Hall opened its eyes.