Prison Break |LJ x Jeff|

Living Nightmare

Brett woke up, his screams filling the empty voids all throughout his home. "Brett?! Brett, what's wrong?!" His wife awoke with a start, her hands latching onto his arm.
  "Yeah, just...just another bad dream."
  "You've had bad dreams every night this week.."
  "It's the fucking clown. He's in my mind, I know he is!"
  Delilah, his wife, frowned as she looked at him, pressing her face into his shoulder. "Quit your job. Please, find a new one..the girls are terrified, I'm terrified, you're terrified. This isn't healthy."
  "I'll... I'll see what I can do."
  "Take tomorrow off, please?"
  "I'll take tomorrow off."

  Jeff was pacing back and forth as LJ laid down, perfectly still. He was just having a little fun with their precious guard, nothing too severe. Suddenly, Brett woke up, and the connection was broken.
  "Having fun?" Jeff said blandly as he noticed LJ's awakening.
  "God damn wife again, waking him up," LJ mumbled, pressing his chin into his palm as he made a pout like face.
  "That looks disgusting on you, Jack, knock it off," Jeff said with a scrunched up face.
  So far none of their plans had worked, and all they've managed to do is get them on an even tighter security. Three cameras in the cell plus little location chips inserted into their arms. They were no biggie, though. As soon as they were free they'd just rip them out anyways, despite how painful it'd be.
  The guard showed up for their meal, both LJ and Jeff ready on their heels. But the feminine voice that reached them was most definitely not Brett, knocking both of them out of their state of mind.
  The two looked down at the disgusting tray of food which was definitely laced with sedatives and possibly psych meds. This was the day. This was going to be the day they finally escaped. The two looked at each other, knowing what had to be done.
  LJ reached for the spoon they had hidden under his thin mat months ago, pushing the tray out of the tiny slot. He shoved the spoon in the middle, where he could see the outside. There was nothing but a dim light and chipping, ugly gray brick walls. He sat like that for five, ten, finally fifteen minutes before the guard, a blond woman in about her mid thirties, finally arrived. She reached down for the tray, cautiously. She was halfway up before she noticed the spoon, and she could of course see LJ's reflection as well. She gasped, the tray slipping from her hands as LJ grinned a wicked, toothy, snarly grin. They had just won.

  The woman, Becky, was a single, childless woman. One that her friends and family would miss, but not one who's death would make the paper if any other occasion than this had occurred. She backed away, rushing out the door before her mind took over. The images before her began to melt, making her believe she was in some kind of wonder land. A weapon. She thought to herself. I need to find a weapon! Though her mind was no longer her own, and LJ had decided she needed to find something much different; a key. She had no idea what was left to right, let alone if what she would be holding was an actual weapon or not. She found herself walking down halls which she once was familiar with, though now seems new and frightening. Strange bugs and creatures crawled around the floor, making her dodge them completely. Children laughed and sang a nursery rhyme over and over again; though it was one she had yet to hear. She turned down halls, her mind seemingly telling her where to find a weapon. She reached a cement door with a pin code, and her fingers seemed to dance over the buttons, and watched as it swung open. There, she saw a small knife glowing. That's the weapon I need. It was irrational for her to grab such a small weapon, but her mind was consumed by another, something she was not able to grasp. She grabbed it, and began walking back to where she had came. Why don't I run away? No. Why? Things were shifting once again, and she was in a different stimulation all together.
  "Becky!"
  It was her baby sister, crying for her all over again. Suddenly she was just ten years old again, barefoot in a damp, dark basement.
  "Becky, please! Open the door!"
  Her sister was crying, her voice strained.
  "Izzy?" She whispered.
  "Becky!" Her screams were echoing through her head.
  Save her, save her, save her. Those were her only thoughts as she ran blindly and dumbly, her hands tracing the walls. There! The door was right before her, her sister screaming in agony.
  "I'm coming, Izzy!" She looked down at her hands, an old antique key sat flatly unto her palm. She quickly inserted the key, hearing the lock click. The door swung open, and everything seemed to fade. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling nauseous and dizzy.
  When she finally opened her eyes, she was met with reality. The dream controlling clown and the man with the permanent smile.
  "Thank you, Becky," was the last thing she heard as he yanked the gun from her belt, a bullet entering her fuzzy brain.

  Jeff hopped over the body, alarms blaring loudly in his ears. LJ was already half way down the hall, leaving Jeff behind.
  "Tch," he muttered, quickly chasing after the idiotic clown. He was in debt to him, that much was for sure. He had managed to capture her mind with just a slight doze. He reached the desk of the human, Brett, and stopped. He slid into the chair, quickly logging on to the old desk computer. There, he found all the information he needed, surprisingly easily, and slid back out, but not before checking the drawers. There, he found an old pocket knife, which he knew was not supposed to be there. He grabbed it and began running after LJ once again.
  He was crouched, pocking his head behind the corner. "No one yet," he said, tapping the gun against his thigh.
  "I managed to find this," he said, wiggling the knife between his forefinger and thumb.
  "Oh great, that serves quite a purpose compared to my gun," the clown replied sarcastically.
  Jeff rolled his eyes, standing above him. "We have to go."
  They were running, once again, down hall after hall after hall. This was no ordinary prison; in fact, it held maybe twenty, thirty prisoners. Only the best of the best were there, and no outsider was to know about it.
  The people imprisoned there were monsters; people that needed extreme precaution. Though, Jeff thought to himself, it wasn't as well guarded if they've been able to make it this far.
  "Cameras," Jeff nodded up at the obvious mechanism, causing LJ to groan in frustration.
  "They know where we are. Run."
  The two took off yet again, there bodies bumping into each other in an unordered fashion. They had no where to go; they had miscalculated their escape.
  "There that are!"
  Shots were fired, and the two 'pastas hit the ground, covering their heads with their arms.
  "Get up," LJ hissed.
  Jeff looked up, and there, practically glowing, was an emergency exit. They had ran quite a ways from the prison wing, somehow managing to make it to the front. They were not too surprised, though, as their speed was much more than that of a mere mortal.
  They ran, ramming there shoulders into the side of the door. They heard a click, and were suddenly tumbling into fresh air and dusk light.
  The lanky woods, which would have to do for protection for that moment, was about 200 meters away. If they ran fast enough they could make it without being shot. And so they did just that; they ran and ran and ran until they were on the other side of the woods completely, being met with a dimly lit, yet busy street. By then it was well past dusk, leaving nothing to be seen but their outlines. It was then that Jeff revealed his plan to LJ, earning a sick, twisted smirk in response.

  Something was off, that much Brett could tell. A noise had awakened him, though nothing followed behind. He propped himself up, looking to his moon lit wife who was still fast asleep. He swung his feet over his bed onto the cold hardwood floor. He could hear numerous creeks throughout the house, but it was nothing new. He got up, feeling the cool air hit his bare back.
  He made his way to the living room, where he noticed the open window. That's why it's so damn cold, he thought to himself. Maybe one of the girls left it open. He quickly shut it, rubbing the goosebumps which freckled his arms. Something seemed off, though nothing was out of place.
  "Brett?" He heard Dalilah call out to him.
  "I'm in here."
  "Brett!" She said it louder this time, leaving him slightly annoyed. Can't I get a break? He let out a grunt, turning on his heel to head back to her. That was before he heard the blood curdling scream from their bedroom. "Delilah!"
  He began to run, sharply turning the hallway corner, resulting in him slamming his shoulder against the wall. He could still hear her screams, though they were becoming less and less. That's when he saw it, the killer clown from the prison, one of Brett's own screwdrivers in his hand, dripping with the love of his life's blood. He could see her night dress stained with red, her now lifeless eyes staring up at him.
  "You sick bastard!" Brett screamed, charging the monster.
  "Ah, ah ah! Don't you notice something off?" He chimed.
  The freak with the scarred up face. His children.
  "Daddy! Mommy!" He could hear his two precious children screaming, and he ran. He ran so fast he could hardly see, his face slamming into their shut door.
  "Go to sleep."
  Those three words hissed throughout the entire household it seemed, and by the time Brett had actually managed to open the door, it was too late. The window was open, the curtain swaying in the wind, and the room was empty of all living things aside from him. He sunk to his knees beside the two beds, his hands soon covered in warm, clumpy blood. He cried, screaming anything and everything until the sirens could be heard and the clowns manic laugh filling the vast, gloomy night.