I followed the guard, maintaining a façade of calm despite the tumult of thoughts swirling in my mind. The absence of any incriminating evidence on my person was a small relief, but the possibility of an inmate snitching weighed heavily on my mind. Still, I resolved to concoct a believable lie if the need arose, knowing that being labeled a snitch was a fate worse than any punishment the guards could mete out.
We entered the cafeteria, and chaos greeted us like an unwelcome guest. The guard shoved a paper in my face, demanding an explanation.
"Did you sign this?" His tone was bold, almost accusatory.
Suppressing the urge to lash out, I clenched my teeth before responding evenly, "Yes, I did earlier today."
"Good, today you're going to assist the staff in cleaning up this mess." He gestured at the disarray surrounding us.
Relief washed over me as it became clear that they hadn't suspected a thing. Nodding in acknowledgment, I grabbed a mop and set to work, focusing on the nearest mess with single-minded determination.
The cafeteria was a disaster zone, with food strewn everywhere imaginable—on the floor, ceiling, and walls. Flipped tables added to the chaos, and I understood why the few inmates who signed up for the prison workforce were called upon to clean up such scenes. The task was daunting, and it took nearly an hour of scrubbing to restore some semblance of order to the room. I found myself physically drained, realizing that cleaning the bunker was child's play compared to this.
"Start working on the tables with that guy," a staff foreman barked, directing me to a fellow inmate.
Suppressing a surge of frustration, I complied without complaint. I knew better than to challenge or intimidate the staff; they held the power to make my life even more miserable if provoked. Resisting the urge to demand a break, I focused on the task at hand, determined to avoid giving the staff any reason to antagonize me further.
Grabbing a wet cloth, I attacked the mess on the tables with renewed vigor. An inmate I vaguely recognized approached me, breaking the monotony of the task at hand.
"Mr. Smiles, it's an honor to meet you in person," he declared, introducing himself as Josh.
I offered a polite nod in return, feigning modesty at the recognition. His words piqued my curiosity, prompting me to listen more closely as I continued scrubbing.
"Today's fight was insane," Josh continued, his excitement palpable. "Everyone was trying to kill each other."
I nodded, half-listening as I focused on dislodging a stubborn Fish Patty stuck to the table's surface. Suddenly, Josh's tone shifted, and he posed a question that set off alarm bells in my mind.
"Did you know who started the fight?" he inquired innocently.
I paused in my task, eyeing him warily. In prison, niceties were often a façade concealing ulterior motives. It was clear that Josh sought information, likely to curry favor with the guards in exchange for rewards.
"I'm sorry, but I haven't the foggiest idea who initiated this chaos," I replied coolly, concealing my skepticism behind a facade of indifference. Despite my outward calm, I couldn't shake the feeling of being manipulated, realizing that in this environment, trust was a commodity best kept scarce.
As I followed the guard through the chaotic cafeteria, my mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts. Despite my outward calmness, I couldn't shake the nagging worry that an inmate might betray me, jeopardizing my carefully laid plans. The guard shoved a paper in my face, demanding to know if I had signed up for the workforce.
"Yes, I did earlier today," I replied through clenched teeth, masking my irritation at his brash demeanor.
Relief washed over me as the guard instructed me to assist with cleaning up the mess in the cafeteria. It seemed they hadn't suspected anything, at least for now. I nodded obediently before grabbing a mop and setting to work, grateful for the opportunity to maintain my facade of innocence.
The scene before me was one of chaos and disarray. Food littered every surface imaginable, from the floors to the ceiling and even the walls. Flipped tables added to the pandemonium, providing a stark illustration of the chaos that had unfolded during the earlier confrontation. It dawned on me why so few inmates volunteered for the prison workforce – the task was daunting, to say the least.
As I scrubbed the floor clean, exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me. Cleaning the bunker had been a breeze compared to this Herculean task. When a staff foreman instructed me to work on the tables, I suppressed the urge to protest. Complaining would only draw unwanted attention, and I knew better than to challenge the authority of the prison staff.
Grabbing a wet cloth, I attacked the tables with vigor, hoping to complete the task as quickly as possible. Amidst the frenzied activity, an inmate named Josh struck up a conversation with me, expressing his admiration for my reputation as "Mr. Smiles."
"It's an honor to meet you in person," he confessed, introducing himself.
Returning the pleasantries, I chuckled at his flattery, though inwardly wary of his intentions. His sudden inquiry about the instigator of the cafeteria brawl raised red flags in my mind. In prison, trust was a rare commodity, and I knew better than to divulge sensitive information to someone with ulterior motives.
"I'm sorry, but I don't have a clue who started this disaster," I replied dismissively, masking my suspicion with feigned ignorance.
As Josh walked away, seemingly satisfied with my response, I recalled his affiliation with the "big guy" gang. It was clear he was fishing for information to curry favor with his boss. Chuckling to myself, I resolved to tread even more cautiously around him in the future, knowing that my reputation made me a prime target for manipulation.
After what felt like an eternity, the cleanup operation finally concluded, and I retreated to my cell, exhausted but relieved. As the usual "lights out" announcement echoed through the corridors, I retrieved the spoon I had hidden inside my pillow. It was a crude but effective tool for my escape plan, and I wasted no time in feeling along the bricked-up wall next to my bed.
To my delight, I discovered a loose brick, revealing a layer of soft dirt behind it. The poor construction of the prison walls had inadvertently provided me with an opportunity for freedom. With my spoon as my makeshift shovel, I began digging meticulously, working diligently to excavate a tunnel that would lead me to freedom.
Covering my tracks with a poster from a magazine, I concealed the entrance to the tunnel, confident that my escape plan was proceeding smoothly. Over the next two days, I continued to cultivate my friendship with Nuckal and Kruncha during the day, while at night, I diligently expanded the tunnel.
On the third day, my efforts bore fruit as the tunnel led to the sewers, offering a potential route to freedom. After scouting the area and locating an exit not far from the prison, I marveled at the sight of Ninjago, a beacon of peace and serenity in the distance.
Reluctantly, I retreated back to my cell, my mind buzzing with anticipation for the events that would unfold the following day. As I drifted off to sleep, I knew that tomorrow held the promise of both escape and the fulfillment of my plan to uncover the location of the elusive Skulin boss. With renewed determination, I welcomed the embrace of slumber, knowing that I would need all my energy for the challenges that lay ahead.
The next day in the prison began like any other, with the guards rousing the inmates from their slumber and herding them to the cafeteria for breakfast. Seated with my cellmate, I was lost in thought until the warden, also known as the mayor, announced an unexpected cell inspection. His disdainful gaze swept over the prisoners as he delivered the news.
"Today we are going to do a cell inspection," he declared with palpable disdain, sending a shiver down my spine.
The mention of a potential escape plan made my heart skip a beat. Though I had kept my involvement a secret, the possibility of discovery loomed large. After breakfast, we returned to our cells, where I resumed my regular exercise routine, attempting to maintain an air of normalcy amidst the mounting tension.
Soon, three guards accompanied by the mayor himself arrived to conduct the inspection. With trepidation, I pressed my back against the wall as they searched for anything suspicious. Despite my efforts to remain calm, anxiety gnawed at me as I watched them scrutinize every inch of my cell.
My heart raced as one of the guards approached the poster next to my bed. I held my breath, fearing that they would uncover the entrance to the tunnel I had painstakingly dug.
"Back against the wall, punks," barked the head guard, his voice laced with authority.
With a sense of relief, I watched as they found nothing amiss and moved on to the next cell.
As the guards departed, declaring my cell clear, I sagged onto my bed, overwhelmed by a flood of relief. I had dodged a bullet, my secret remaining safely concealed behind the poster. Reflecting on the close call, I vowed to be even more cautious in the future, lest my escape plan be jeopardized by a careless mistake.
Despite the tense atmosphere lingering after the inspection, the day continued without incident until dinner time, when chaos erupted in the prison. Shouts and commotion echoed through the corridors as inmates overwhelmed the guards, triggering a full-blown riot.
Realizing that the situation had escalated beyond control, I swiftly altered my plans. Seizing the opportunity amidst the confusion, I grabbed Kruncha and Nuckal, leading them to the concealed entrance of the tunnel.
"Quick, follow me!" I urged, my voice urgent with adrenaline.
Emerging at the entrance to the sewers, I turned to my companions, seeking information on their base of operations. Nuckal's careless revelation was met with a scowl from Kruncha, a silent admonition for his lack of discretion.
"Thank you for your help," I murmured, before bidding farewell to the Skulin members.
With a sense of urgency, I sprinted towards Ninjago, my heart pounding with a heady mix of exhilaration and apprehension. Dislocating my thumb to remove the tracking bracelet, I discarded my mask and shirt, donning a nondescript jacket to blend into the crowd.
Finding a phone booth, I dialed the number of the mysterious man with glasses, informing him of the location of the golden weapon map.
"I got the location on where to find the map for the golden weapons," I promised. "The Skulin group leader Samukai has it in the Dark woods."
"I didn't expect anything less from you, but didn't our agreement say that you will get it for me?" He pointed out.
"Well, I'm on the run. But you will figure that out tomorrow from the news," I replied with a hint of resignation.
"You are the first person to escape Kryptarium prisons," He said with a hint of admiration. "You keep on getting more interesting."
"At Least you found it, so I guess you did keep your end of the deal," He noted.
I hung up before starting to walk back to the bunker, I was walking near the empty cemetery. I felt the presence of multiple people, that was when I could hear the click of a gun.
"Who are you?" I managed to choke out, but darkness enveloped me before I could hear their response.