The automatic doors of the Gray Light Facility scraped open and stopped with a thundering clunk, revealing a tall dark man in a trench coat and a top hat with a short bald headed fellow slumped next to him, both of them bathed in moonlight with sprinkles of blood on their faces. The tall man squeezed the other by the back of the neck and walked him into the inmate housing area where several prison guards in black helmets stood before them on the gray ground, four holding batons while the other three were armed with stun sticks. The rest of the Delinquents raved and screamed from the corners of their cells and for a brief moment Bartholomew thought the interior resembled a macabre zoo. The guards flanked him on both sides as he walked with Victor ahead of him below the pale yellow bulbs in the midst of the maddening noise. They were heading towards Warden Master John Gray, a gray haired wall of a man, hidden a pair of glasses, who brandished a silver sword carefully positioned between his legs.
"Busy night Bartholomew?" said Warden Master.
"I wish we were meeting under different circumstances Warden," he said.
"This is the new Delinquent I take it?" he asked.
"What gave it away?" he asked.
"Take him," he beckoned to the guards, two of whom proceeded to grab Victor by the shoulders and lead him to his new cell. "Has the compensation been to your liking?" asked Warden Master.
"Should I be expecting a raise?" he asked.
"You do nothing but good work Bartholomew. I'd love nothing more than for you to keep at it," he said.
"It's not just about the money Warden. If I don't do this then the whole system will collapse. It's fragile enough as it is," he said.
"You're right son. I have no idea where I would be without your help. We seem to be having an exponential rise in cases as of late," he said.
"Why do you think that is?" he asked.
"I can't say for certain. The Midnight Society does everything in its power to keep the peace but more Delinquents continue to show up," he said.
"That's because they don't share our vision, nor do they realize just how cataclysmic their recklessness can be," he said.
"Well, we do our best to educate them in here. Those who take will take," he said.
"And those who don't will have to deal with me," he said.
"Right you are Mr. Sinclair. Did this one give you any trouble?" he asked.
"I now have a picture of a dead family in my head, and he loves to hear himself talk, but besides that he came willingly," he said.
"Is that right? That would be a first. New Delinquents usually accompany stories of how difficult they were to apprehend," he said.
"True. Is Officer West on duty?" he asked.
"She is," he said.
"I'll be just a minute. I haven't seen her in a while," he said.
"Thick as thieves you two. Alright then, come this way," he said.
He followed the Warden Master through a red door in the middle of the hall, up a flight of stairs that led to a large blue lit security booth with a view of all the inmate housing areas. A total of what seemed to be more than thirty officers occupied the booth, each one monitoring their respective cameras displaying the activities of each cell and its accompanying hallway. He walked nearly the length of the booth, stopping next to a reddish brown haired lady who was chewing what was the start of her third pack of gum.
"I thought I asked you nicely to get rid of that thing," she said.
"I doubt you'd be able to recognize me without it," he said and tipped the rim of his hat. "What's going on in the cages?"
"A part from a few scraps here and there it's been mostly quiet. Although we seem to be having some kind of a religious situation. I'm not quite sure what to make of it myself, other than the fact that it makes the inmates appear less violent. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" she asked.
"No. Things haven't been quiet on the outside," he said.
"That's your new friend?" she asked, as Victor appeared on her monitor.
"I don't keep friends with Delinquents. The Warden didn't recognize him. Have you seen him in here before?" he asked.
"I can't say I have, no," she said.
"Anyone else brought in tonight?" he asked.
"Two men, brothers by the looks of it," she said.
"Was there anything strange about them? Stranger than usual I mean," he said.
"Not that I saw, it was all just routine. Why, what's on your antennae?" she asked.
"It could be nothing, but something in the air doesn't smell right," he said.