Sleeping, waking, sleeping, waking. I even used the toilet for a big business because I got a terrible stomachache for not doing so for days. Having done that first time in prison, I got myself the water that was brought inside, before going back to sleep.
I didn't eat anything of what they shoved inside through the door slit, and I didn't hear anyone talk to me again. So I smoked when I woke up, having absolutely no feeling of time anymore. Besides, it was really dark inside—only a really dim light that was embedded in the ceiling. I bet they would love to either turn the light on full force or leave me in utter darkness, but they couldn't. There were still laws. They also couldn't torment me with pain.
I slept again, drinking, shitting, sleeping, and repeating. I conjured myself some alcohol, drinking not only water. And I really managed to get drunk with a few shots; maybe it was just my imagination, but it helped me.
I felt I was only living on alcohol and water, and I started to get used to it. The alcohol did make everything so much easier.
Don't know, how long they would let me stay inside, but besides my first seizure after waking up again in here, I started to really like this dark little cave.
I felt safe. I liked that there were no people talking to me, and I felt I had already lost my newly discovered urge to speak.
About a few days went by like this, and then I started to sing. It was 'Hate to be a bother' from Joywave. An oldie, but I have loved this song for a long time. Because nobody had laughed or talked to me, I was sure to be alone.
"I hate to be a bother, but could you leave me the fuck alone?" I sang. The high tones I couldn't get. But singing and dancing with a vodka bottle in my hand felt really nice.
I really liked it, music being one of the things that had helped me cope with the loneliness when I was left alone in my childhood. A real pity that I couldn't conjure up music, though it would be really taxing to only hear a song and then conjure it up again.
However. This new routine of drinking, smoking, shitting, sleeping, and singing changed when guards went through my cell and I got myself a new body search. They dragged my drunken ass to the doctor from last time, who examined me.
"He is drunk or on drugs." The doctor said, taking my blood, and I let him.
"What did you give him?" He turned to the guards, scolding them.
So it isn't just my imagination, hm? I am really drunk. Drugs would be good, but I had never gotten my hands on them, not wanting to. So I couldn't conjure them up.
Drinking was still better than nothing.
"Nobody gave him anything. You can check the surveillance." One guard answered.
"You already know about the weapon and the blood that had disappeared…" The other guard spoke and was elbowed by the first one before falling silent.
"How do you do it?" The doctor turned to me, but I didn't answer him. There was no need to anymore. My spirit was still crushed.
"We have to take him to the interrogation room." The first guard spoke, and the doctor waved for them to go on. It seemed he had taken enough blood.
I was again dragged away, inside an interrogation room, maybe even the same from last time. My reflection showed that everything had healed. I even had something that could be a beard on me, but the hairs were not as strong because my hair was lightly colored.
Detective Norman came in again and repeated everything she had said last time. I did neither look at her nor talk to her. No need for that anymore.
"We made an exception. He volunteered to come." She made a motion, and the door opened. I turned around in boredom and saw someone I had never expected.
Henry.
But my head didn't register the fact that they put someone underage here inside an interrogation room, didn't ask why he volunteered, nor contemplated anything else.
I made an abrupt motion, trying to get the chains off me, while standing up. I tried to get to him, and when that didn't work, I ripped stronger on the chains. Hearing something break, either a finger or a wrist, it didn't matter. I had to get my hands on him; I had to kill him.
"Good. I will let you two alone. Good to see you responsive again." Detective Norman smiled and walked out, while Henry took a seat in front of me. I tried to throw myself over the table to get closer, but my chains held me in place.
Henry was clothed in a black windbreaker, all in black. His blue eyes mustered me, halting at my bloody wrists.
"Sit down."
I stayed standing, just asking myself if I could get a knife at his throat if I conjured it up. My body was trembling; I was feeling so much bloodlust that I was going crazy.
"You haven't eaten the past weeks." He spoke again. I looked at my image in the mirror and back to my bony hands. Weeks? What?
"They talked to me, asking me to come get you to talk about your ability. I only know that there have been victims...nothing more." He drawled out.
"I don't know what you have done, but I remember every conversation we had with each other. It will have something to do with what you told me you could do, I imagine."
"Kenny." He tapped on the table like the detective had, but under his finger was not my last hope that had been squashed, but only the cold metal. I was so furious that I again tried to throw myself on him.
"Henrietta had really tried to injure me. I think she had changed inside that parallel world, no matter if she really stayed for only one day inside or not."
"Additionally, the power she had..."
"Kenny. I am not telling you to confess anything. No matter what they want me to do."
"I am here to bring you hope."
"If Henrietta had abilities, if you have abilities, you think everything had been a one-time coincidence?"
The door opened, and Detective Norman came inside.
"That was not what we talked about."
Henry neither stood up nor looked at her. Languidly sitting in his seat and not showing any signs of hearing what she said.
"The world is changing. Another portal will open. Other monsters will come. And when that time comes, they will either need your ability—"
Detective Norman bellowed for guards, and two came inside.
Henry pulled out something from his windbreaker, and there was a loud bang.
"PUT THE GUN DOWN." The guard yelled.
"HENRY!"
"STOP!" Detective Norman screamed and stood between the guard who had his gun drawn and Henry.
I noticed that part of the ceiling crumbled down, but Henry was unmoved, besides pointing the gun at Detective Norman, without ever turning away from me, staring at me.
"— Or, there will be no more things like prisons, like laws."
"So you have to hold on. Remember what I promised you? I mean it. "
"Your dog is waiting for the world to go down, kneeling at your words, jumping at your orders."
He laid the gun on the table, standing up and raising his hands.
"You can't die, so start to eat again."
He was handcuffed and dragged out.
"And if someone touches you, kill them."
"Don't worry. The world will come to an end." I could still hear him as he was pulled and pushed out of the room. And I could also hear him chuckle as he was taken away.