01 Feb I’m a guard stationed at a ‘secret’ government prison Part 2
“This place sure gives you the creeps, doesn’t it?”
I couldn’t disagree with Sandhu’s assessment of the bizarre room we found ourselves in. The monitors only illuminated the area up until a certain point. However, we couldn’t see any walls, which meant the place had to be bigger than what could be seen, either by a little or a lot. We couldn’t know unless we decided to venture further into the darkness. Neither of us took that initiative, though, keeping it a mystery.
Still… it didn’t feel like anybody was in there with us, so we allowed ourselves to relax a bit. I took the first sitting shift, lying back in the chair and focusing on the monitor that I deemed most interesting at the moment.
WireHead Vs. Luze
Who was I rooting for? None of them. Nevertheless, I was morbidly eager to see these two horrific titans square off. Among us guards, we’d created an unofficial “tier” system, ranking each respective Void in terms of the estimated threat that they posed. (In comparison to each other).
The tiers went as such:
Tornado – (weakest)
Hurricane – (mid)
Asteroid – (highest, imminent death, get the fuck out)
They were also divided into ‘sub-divisions’ (high, low, mid, etc.)
With that said, Luze was around a High-Tornado while WireHead was a Mid-Tsunami. A glaring difference between them, but not enough that would make it impossible for Luze to win.
“Wanna make a bet?” I asked Sandhu, half-jokingly.
He chuckled. “You know my luck’s cursed. But I guess if we don’t make it outta here alive, then my debt’s null anyway.”
Luze was more of a defensive combatant, so it wasn’t surprising when WireHead initiated the conflict. He twirled his bat around (still with remnants of guard flesh clinging onto it), in a near-mocking fashion at Luze. He was a delinquent, after all.
Luze hardly reacted, of course. That’s just the way he was. In response, he stepped forward, electricity flickering through his hands and up to his forearms. WireHead followed suit, unleashing a big swing at Luze’s head, which he managed to intercept with one of his forearms.
Nevertheless, the wires still pierced his skin. WireHead followed it up with a head-butt. This time, it connected with the flesh-side of Luze’s face, slicing him up rather gruesomely.
But despite his seemingly grievous injures, he remained unwavering. That was the thing about Luze. He was incapable of feeling any pain. Like I said, his exact origins remained a mystery, but the one thing we knew about him for sure was the fact that he hailed from some kind of ancient clan residing in the Arctic Circle. In fact, he was the sole survivor of an “incident” that decimated his village, and he was hungry for revenge against the unknown force that did it.
After taking the head-butt, Luze was now in striking range. He formed his fingers into an arrow-shape and drove them into WireHead’s solar-plexus, before electrocuting his insides.
WireHead quaked in pain as he swung his bat in a frenzied rage, just about demolishing Luze’s ribcage. No reaction from him, though. Instead, he took his other hand and wrapped it around WireHead’s neck. Any normal person would’ve succumbed to Luze’s electrical shocks after a few seconds. But of course, WireHead was no normal person. Despite blood pouring out from chest wound and the skin on his neck beginning to bubble, he picked Luze up by the torso and slammed him over the steel railing.
He fucking broke his back. Even without sound, the mental audio of a spine snapping reverberated throughout my mind.
Unsurprisingly, Luze didn’t bat an eye. WireHead went in for the kill, tossing Luze’s body onto the ground before smashing until it resembled nothing more than a mess of bloody pulp and broken bones.
But somehow… he was still alive. Among the gruesome pile, I could see an eye blink.
Once WireHead had exhausted himself from his relentless swinging, Luze took his chance. Using his one arm that hadn’t been smashed to bits, he crawled over and grabbed WireHead by the foot, before scaling himself up to his neck.
Once there, he drilled his fist into WireHead’s forehead, utterly shredding his own hand in the process.
In the end, it was worth the sacrifice. He was able to electrocute WireHead’s brain, finally causing the behemoth to drop.
“So… I guess he won?” Sandhu said.
I had my own reservations about calling Luze’s performance a “victory”. By the end of it, all of his limbs and his spine had been shattered, and not an inch of his body wasn’t hosting a series of deep cuts. The good side of his face had also been chipped away to the skull, leaving only his eye and half his nose intact.
And yet… he didn’t move with a hint of desperation or concern, calmly crawling away from the scene using his one mangled hand. I could still see the current flowing through it as well, a tell-tale sign that he was ready to pick up another fight.
“Nice. Comeback victory.” Sandhu said. “I don’t see him making it far, though. Not as a Tornado-Tier”
“Yeah, but we made all of that shit up. Not like it means anything.” I responded.
Truth be told, I was nearly rooting for Luze at the end there. Something about his resilience resonated with me, as bizarre as it may seem.
I scanned the rest of the monitors. While WireHead and Luze were squaring off, the Undead Nazi had burnt Dyaxek to a crisp.
On another monitor, Morgi playing around with a Void corpse that I recognized as Death Shadow. (He chose his own name).
“3 down…” I muttered to myself.
“Fuck, we got a big one coming up.” Sandhu announced.
I followed his eyes to a monitor near the bottom of the room. He was right. This one was gonna be good. Standing at opposite sides of the kitchen were:
Trench – 6’3 (190 cm), 330 lbs (150 kg)
Senju – 5’10 (177 cm), 148 lbs (67 kg)
Trench was a silent entity dressed entirely in ancient-looking deep-sea diving gear, except for the head, which remained without a helmet. However, you couldn’t get a glimpse of its face regardless. That was due to the fact that his features were completely distorted, so much so that if you tried focusing on the details, all you were getting was a nasty migraine.
On top of that, he was invisible in person.
Let me explain:
If he were standing right in front of you, you wouldn’t be able to see him. The only way to get a glimpse of him was through “secondary” means, (Cameras, mirrors, etc.), which made him all the more dangerous.
As for how he killed people – it was either by brute force using his monstrous strength or b his “Death Aura”, as us guards have dubbed it. Similar to Dyaxek’s “zone”, once you were in his close vicinity, you’d feel an astronomical amount of pressure and get crushed on the spot, comparable to what you’d feel standing at the bottom of the ocean. But that’s only if Trench wills it. Sometimes, he’ll turn the aura off and simply punch somebody’s head off.
For that reason, he was in the Mid-Hurricane tier.
As for Senju… well he was basically a psychotic, demon-possessed martial artist with supernatural levels of speed, strength and agility. He apparently trained in the “Wraith Style”, or the “technique beyond human comprehension”, whatever the hell those were supposed to mean.
When he gets serious, his eyes will roll into the back of his head and black veins will begin bulging out from underneath his skin. At that point, he’ll be moving so fast that his motions become impossible to keep up with visually, and a single punch from him will be enough to completely vaporize a human head.
But in all honesty, he’s one of the least malicious Voids out of the bunch. If you’re weak (like us guards), he won’t even spare you a glance, granted that you stay out of his way. The only thing that he’s really looking for are “strong opponents” to fight.
But… when he can’t find one… he starts to get antsy. And then problems emerge.
We’ve pegged him at a Low-Hurricane.
“Can Senju even see Trench?” Sandhu asked?
“I… guess so?” I responded.
The question was worth asking, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if Trench’s Aura/invisibility simply didn’t work on him at all.
That seemed to be the case, since Senju decided to strike first. He rushed forward at an unfathomable speed, directing what must have been hundreds of strikes in succession at Trench.
However, none of them fazed the obscure diver. I could see Senju’s lips curling into a psychotic grin at the fact. He certainly found what he was looking for.
The floor beneath him cracked as his eyes turned white and his grotesque veins began bulging. If we couldn’t see his strikes before, it was beyond impossible now. He rushed forward, unleashing a maelstrom of lightning-like punches, elbows and kicks against Trench.
This went on for about 5 seconds before he was stopped in his tracks. Trench had grabbed him by the throat, still not looking any worse for wear in the process. I could see Senju mouth something to the effect of “what the fuck” before he was tossed into a metal fridge.
It certainly appeared as if Trench was too much of a tank for him to handle.
Nevertheless, Senju got back up and cracked his shoulder into place while blood leaked from his mouth. And then he seemed to let out a shriek.
Crazy fucker, I thought to myself. What the hell did it take for somebody to become like this?
At that point, he’d seemingly given up on technique entirely. Instead, he grabbed a handful of kitchen knives and began chucking them at Trench. While none of them pierced the suit, one of them managed to stick in his distorted head, which evidently dealt some damage.
Trench flinched, before taking the knife out and throwing it back at Senju, who in turn caught it effortlessly. At this point, he was howling in what I assumed was some kind of fucked-up sadomasochistic jubilation. He’d found the weak point.
Senju rushed back at Trench, knife in hand, before slashing away at its face. Spurts of vicious, dark-blue blood stained the kitchen floor, along with Senju’s own face. Soon enough, the knife snapped, and Trench threw a desperation punch at Senju’s temple. He managed to block it with his forearm, although I could see his bones cracking from the impact.
He leapt back as his arm hung limp to his side, dodging a follow-up haymaker. Throughout everything, a grin remained plastered on his face. His veins were bulging out so hard that I found it hard to believe they weren’t going to completely burst altogether.
With one arm, Senju lifted a metal table and swung it into the side of Trench’s head, nearly taking it off in the process. He wasted no time, grabbing a large frying pan and pouncing at his incapacitated opponent, knocking them both over in the process.
He then took a position atop Trench’s body, furiously slamming the pan onto his face.
“Martial arts, eh…” I could hear Sandhu mutter.
After what must’ve been 250 blows, the pan broke. On the ground. Trench’s head had been obliterated no less than 50 strikes prior. Senju tossed the scrap metal aside and looked up at the ceiling, presumably screaming his lungs sore in sheer, combative delight.
“Well… looks like our Tier System means fuck all.” I chuckled.
Despite the morbid scene unfolding in front of us, Sandhu shared a laugh with me. We were at the point where the absolute absurdity and danger of the situation was beginning to fade from our senses. Hell… I suppose we were enjoying ourselves, as fucked up as that may sound.
We kept watching as Senju got up and stumbled around, evidently disoriented from both his injuries and successive fits of fighting-spirit induced rage-euphoria. He took about 4 steps before his head exploded, throwing the two of us watching for quite the loop.
Another figure stepped into the frame, whom we recognized as Satan-Bot – 6’11 (211 cm), 535 lbs (243 kg).
I felt a shiver crawl down my spine upon seeing him, somewhat snapping me back into reality. Despite his comical name, Satan-Bot had to be one of the most frightening Voids out there.
I just… couldn’t understand what the fuck he was supposed to be. His body appeared to be robotic, but moved in ways that were too fluid for even the most sophisticated android. Like legitimate metallic flesh. It was honestly maddening to look at.
On top of that, he literally resembled the fucking devil himself. Reddish-black scaly skin/metallic shell, a mouth full of exposed, razor-like teeth, rectangular, slanted crimson eyes, a pair of large, mechanical wings and a long tail ending in something that resembled a 3-pronged spear to boot. For whatever reason, he also had a rocket-launcher atop his right shoulder and a Gatling gun connected to his left hand. No, these were not mechanical modifications. They were literally connected to his body.
He was unanimously considered one of the most dangerous Voids residing in the Chasm, rated at a High-Earthquake. Even if Senju was at his full-strength, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.
“Oh shit,” Sandhu commented. “I was hoping he didn’t escape.”
“Well… let’s not worry about him for now.” I said, turning my attention to another monitor.
What my eyes landed on next was an utter massacre. Sitting atop a pile of guard bodies that must’ve eclipsed 6 feet was Hugo Wright, AKA The Brutal Bishop – 6’2 (189 cm), 200 lbs (91 kg).
Like his name indicated, he was dressed in a traditional Vicar Priest outfit. The only difference was the fact that the cross he wore around his neck was fashioned out of blades. The man himself had long, sweeping black hair and about fourteen bags under both of his dead, blue eyes.
It was unclear to us what his real motivations were. It’s not like he really followed the rules of any religion on Earth, despite his outfit. He just went on long rants about “the sin of natalism” and the “futility of existence”, and how “to reach a state of sanctity, we must first reach a clean state.” Basically, he wanted to kill every sentient being on Earth, and then himself. He wasn’t all talk, either. He was certainly strong.
We rated him at a Low-Hurricane.
After praying to whatever fucked-up deity he worshiped atop his pile of corpses, he slid down and began stalking the corridors for some more victims to fulfill his ‘holy’ objective.
Who he came across next couldn’t have been more perfect.
Kael Silva, AKA Vampire Cop – 5’9 (175 cm), 176 lbs (80kg).
Kael was rather interesting, being that he was one of the most co-operative Voids. In fact, he was the only prisoner that willingly turned himself in.
His backstory was interesting as well, and of the few we actually knew about. He used to be a prolific, merciless Brazilian cop who patrolled the most dangerous parts of Rio. It was so much so that he earned a reputation amongst the criminal underground as “The Reaper”.
But… he was still only human. During one fateful mission, his entire unit was massacred during an ambush attack by about a dozen distinct gangs who were all unified under the same goal of taking him down. He was the only survivor, but was captured in the process.
After being brutally tortured in a warehouse for about 5 hours, the lights suddenly went out.
During this period of darkness, the only sounds entering his ears were those of carnage. Every single gang member was being obliterated by some unknown force. At the end of the bloodbath, he could hear footsteps slowly approaching him, before a deep, raspy voice whispered something into his ear:
”There’s potential in you. Allow me to bestow you with an opportunity.”
He felt a sharp pain hit his neck before the hidden entity spoke to him again.
”Fulfill your duty.”
And then he passed out.
When he woke up, he found himself in his bed, with all the wounds from his torture session just about healed. All wounds expect for one – a bite-mark on his neck. His appearance had also changed drastically.
Pale skin, dark eyes and fangs. He’d heard about the stories, but could hardly comprehend that he’d become one himself. While he couldn’t handle being exposed to the sun anymore, he found himself with superhuman strength and regeneration, which he used to brutalize criminals at night as a vigilante.
However, it didn’t take long for him to go too far. One night, he went into a frenzy, breaking into the house of a suspected rapist and killing everybody inside. Everybody including the rapist’s innocent mother and daughter.
His resolve in regards to justice had never wavered, remaining strong no matter what he went through. For that reason, he could hardly live with guilt on his conscience, and walked to the police station he used to work at, turning himself in to his former colleagues that all thought he was dead. Of course, the news spread quickly. That’s when the CIA stepped in and transferred him over to the Chasm.
He put up no resistance. In fact, he deemed the Chasm a place where he 100% belonged.
Safe to say, he was a rather bizarre case. We still put him at a Low-Hurricane, same as Hugo.
On the monitor, I could see Kael’s lips moving. Wanting to hear what he had to say, I began looking around to see if I could get some audio. It didn’t take too long for me to find the volume control panel, which was located right under the middle desk. Thankfully, whoever set this weird place up took the liberty of labeling each switch with its respective monitor.
I turned the volume up right in the middle of Kael’s spiel.
“…dangerous scum. I’m gonna have to dispose of you all before it’s too late.”
Hugo’s face remained expressionless.
“Scum… an apt description of the ones residing in this place. But I understand that you’re also a man wrought with unforgivable sin. I’ll treat you no differently.” He responded.
Kael chuckled. “Wouldn’t expect you not to,” He took a provocative fighting stance. “C’mon, Englishman. Let’s settle this.”
Hugo put a hand on his blade-cross, before muttering another prayer to himself. He looked up at Kael, his eyes now a deep crimson.
“The atrocities I commit are only in the pursuit of ultimate holiness. I hope you can understand that.”
Kael grinned. “Yeah. I get it. Crazy people are crazy.”
As he finished the sentence, he rushed forward in a quick blur, sinking his fangs into Hugo’s neck.
In turn, Hugo grabbed Kael’s head and twisted, snapping his neck in what had to be the most gruesome manner feasible, before plunging a fist into his chest.
For the first time, Hugo grimaced.
“What’s wrong with your heart?” He asked, before retracting his hand, revealing severe burn marks.
Kael twisted his head back into place before shooting Hugo a bloody grin. “I couldn’t tell you, buddy.”
They traded blows for a few more minutes, pummeling each other into oblivion. While Kael was certainly more skilled and had more “tools” at his disposal, Hugo possessed more raw power.
Eventually, it came to a standstill. Kael had suffered upwards of 20 fatal injuries, forcing his regeneration abilities to the brink. Hugo was bleeding all over, had about 6 bone fractures, an eye gouged out and an ear ripped off.
“You’re… pretty fucking annoying, aren’t you?” Kael rasped out.
Hugo bent over, coughing up a mouthful of blood. “Likewise.”
In the meantime, their confrontation had drawn an audience. Coming in from an intersecting corridor was Infernal Gladiator – 6’7 (200 cm), 285 lbs (129 kg). He was a High-Hurricane.
Imagine an extremely buff zombie that was perpetually burning, clad in ancient gladiator gear. That was him. In one of his hands, he gripped a gigantic, flaming sword. In his other, he held two leashes, both holding respective Voids at the neck, crawling at his feet like dogs straight from hell.
One was The Freak – 6’10 (208 cm), 253 lbs (115 kg), a slouching, humanoid monster with strange, flickering eyes and a grin that wrapped around its entire head. The other was The Human-ish Centipede – 6’4 (193 cm, standing height), 372 lbs (169 kg), a centipede-like creature that had a vaguely human face covered in 6 eyes, with an iron muzzle obscuring the mouth area. It crawled on 10 colossal, veiny arms.
They were both Mid-Tornado Tier. Not incredibly powerful. They were merely simple, aggressive beasts that possessed nothing but primal bloodlust and strength that was comparable to 3 wild bears put together.
For that reason, they were easily converted into disposable weapons by the much stronger and more intelligent gladiator.
“Fucking hell…” Kael said upon seeing the trio. “That’s fucking disgusting.”
“Bloody abominations,” Hugo added. “Nothing but creatures that stain this Earth.”
They both looked at each other and nodded, an explicit sense of mutual understanding between them. I suppose that a few of the Voids teaming up should’ve been inevitable.
“Oh boy, this is heating up.” I said, turning towards Sandhu.
He didn’t respond at first, instead looking as if he were trying to focus on something that wasn’t the screen.
“What the hell’s the matter” I asked him.
“I think… there might be somebody else in here. Don’t turn around. Just keep watching. Pretend like you didn’t hear it.” He replied, hardly above a whisper.
It’s not like I had to pretend.
Hear what? I thought to myself.
Nevertheless, I’d never Sandhu more serious. I turned my attention back to the monitors, while forcing my ears to be alert.
About 10 seconds later, I heard it.
It was soft for sure. I wasn’t surprised that I hadn’t noticed it up until that point.
Somewhere in the darkness behind us, somebody was definitely trying to contain a giggle.