The Lost Artifact Of Spode

015

The solitude began to drive him mad. Hours passed, which faded into night and day again on this planet. Mel doesn't know how much time really passed, at least relative to what he's used to, but he's growing restless. He's long regain his voice and began to grow desperate to use it with someone. To make it worse, with how long he's been sitting there alone with nothing to do, he doesn't even have anything to say to himself.

Those Proximians were supposed to come back and finish questioning him, weren't they? As much as he hated them, Mel was willing to even talk to them just for some noise.

It wasn't until the sun looked ready to set yet again when someone finally came by. At first, Mel got excited hearing the footsteps come down the hall. That was until he saw who they belonged to. It's the first Proximian Mel had met in this place. The one with the long braid.

There's nothing wrong about him, but seeing him reminded Mel of the last thing he told him. *"After? Execution, likely."*

"Don't tell me," Mel murs.

"What?" The Proximian asks, briefly stopping from digging in his pockets.

After the reminder, he had to know. Mel carefully asks the man, "Were you being honest about the execution thing?"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why do you think I'm here?"

His stomach drops at the response. Mel didn't think he was actually going to be executed. That if he was truly serious, some miracle would happen before. This isn't actually happening, is it?

But what about his family?

"Ah," Mel finally vocalises.

The alien holds up a pair of handcuffs. "Come here so I can put these on, then I'll let you out."

To make it even worse, he has to wear handcuffs too? Mel narrows his eyes at the cuffs. Slowly, he brings up his swollen left hand to show the alien. "My hand is broken. Do I really need to be restrained?"

"You have two hands."

"I'm left handed," he announces. Mel shows the Proximian his other hand as he continues, "I can't use this hand."

He took a moment, glancing between Mel and both of his hands. "So?" He finally asks.

Mel desperately searched his mind for another point. Handcuffs were already awful to wear as is. But with his broken hand? That sounds unbearable. But he couldn't find any other excuse to use. "It's going to really hurt," he whines.

The alien sighs. "Please, quit making this harder than it should be."

Mel hesitates for a moment. Begrudgingly, he gives in and carefully stands up with a shaky breath. He bitterly ambles towards the guard. While he didn't have much of a choice here, he still made sure the Proximian knew just how much he hates it.

"You're going to kill me anyway," he complains, sorrow thick in his voice. "Why do I have to suffer anymore before then? It's just cruel."

Mel holds out his shaky hands for the alien to cuff him. He tightly closes his eyes, turns away, and holds his breath as he braces himself for the pain the handcuffs will bring him.

Instead, the alien loudly sighs. "Whatever," he murmurs, unlocking the cell door. "Just, come on."

Mel peaks one eye open to the alien. The handcuffs were completely put away. Mel couldn't tell if it was out of pity or annoyance, but either way he's grateful he got his way with the handcuffs. He finally drops his hand to his side.

"What's your name?" Mel asks.

The alien took a moment, as if he were debating answering at all. Finally, he speaks, "A'nees. Let's go." A'nees turns down the hallway.