4 Years

Chapter 9

Rolling over, the frame of a steel bed stabbed into Roy's ribs jolting him awake. Sitting up he found himself in a cold dark concrete room, with nothing but a lonely toilet in the corner. A blue door, was the only entrance and exit to his cold dungeon, with a small glass window at heads height. Staring out of it, Roy could see other doors, with the same window, all with numbers branded on them. With no door handle, and no means of escape, he slumped his way back to his single, bloodstained, mattress and threw himself upon it. Counting how many tiles covered the ceiling, the imprisoned man tried to think of every rationale reason why everyone was saying he was crazy. He didn't know himself, but he was adamant about what he saw, and it must be true. Lost in thought, a loud alarm echoed through his cell and the blue door swung open, with a bang. An automated voice yelled, 'Everyone! Get out of your cells and form a single file line!'.

Creeping to the door, Roy watched in horror as men and woman from each room, all dressed in white gowns, stumbled out of their rooms and moved into a single file line. The doors Roy could see through his window were only a fraction of how many rooms filled the long hallway. The other prisoners acted like sheep and stood awaiting their orders, as the men in lab coats appeared through a door at the end of the hallway. Roy scuttled back into his cell looking for a weapon of some sort. With no weapon in sight, hiding was the next solution. Skidding under the steel bed frame, Roy listened as a man started commanding orders from the hallway.

'Right everyone! It's Sunday and you know what that means! All of you must take the pills assigned to you and then we can calmly and quietly make out way too the cafeteria! Understood?!'.

A collective agreeing moan responded to the man. Trying to stay as still as possible and make no sound Roy thought they had forgotten about him until the person who was yelling called out, 'Where's Mr Withers!?'.

Loud footsteps stomped their way to Roy's cell and the legs of three men appeared at his doorway. They instantly spotted him and rushed over, ripping the bed frame and mattress away, revealing the scared shaken man. Roy froze with fear and let the men manhandle him to his feet and out of the room. Pushed into line, he was greeted with expressionless prisoners, who were swallowing down their pills. A man wearing an all-black guard uniform marched over to Roy, from the front of the line, with a cup of pills in his hand. A large blond moustache with flicked ends covered the man's face, tickling Roy's face, as he got inches within touching noses. Slamming his fist in Roy's ribs the man passed the cup of pills over to Roy and sternly said, 'Swallow'.

Gazing into the hardened guard's eyes Roy knew he wasn't going to budge. The old man looked like he had done this job his whole life and his patience had entirely depleted. After a few intense moments passed, with some of the other men in lab coats stationing themselves behind the guard, Roy closed his eyes in defeat and swallowed the pills. Sticking his tongue out the guard pinched it tightly making Roy jerk from shock. Inappropriately jabbing inside Roy's mouth trying to find any pills he might have stashed, the guard released his tongue and whispered in Roy's ear, 'Don't you ever mess with me boy!'.

Left violated, and with a horrid taste in his mouth, Roy took his position in line as the guard marched back to the front. Waiting silently in the dimly lit corridor the men in lab coats also waited for every prisoner to swallow their pills. A prisoner at the front of the line snapped and lunged at one of his captors. Knocking him to the floor, the prisoner could only get in a few good blows before the other men grabbed him and stuck a needle in his arm. Collapsing with a sickening thud, the unconscious man was left to freeze on the cold, stone floor.

'Move out!', the guard ordered.

A small frail woman followed one of the men in the lab coats to the end of the hall and through a door. With the guard bringing up the rear, the prisoners were led through multiple hallways all looking the exact same. Everything was painted white except the doors which were painted blue. Reaching a staircase, the troop made its way down to a massive hall-like room. Multiple tables and chairs littered the room half occupied by other prisoners who were eating their dinner. At the end of what Roy guessed to be the cafeteria, was the food station. Sweet scents of freshly baked mashed potatoes mixed with hot chicken, vegetables and gravy engulfed Roy's nostrils. Even the smell made the weak man feel better and a hop was added to his step. Every other prisoner seemed to be just as eager with the new arrivals forming a line quickly and aggressively by the food station. A haggard looking woman served dinner and as each prisoner handed over their paper plates, they had collected at the start of the table, she slapped on the food with no care and handed them straight back. Roy received his pile of food, along with a plastic knife and fork, and looked around for an empty table. Most of the prisoners knew each other and Roy couldn't shake the feeling they were all talking about him. Some were obvious is doing so, pointing and turning around to look at him, where some gave quick eye movements in his direction as they spoke to their acquaintances. Roy didn't care, he was starving and even though the presentation was appalling the food still smelt delicious to his hungry stomach. Finding a lonely table Roy dug into his meal quickly interrupted by someone calling his name. To his left, a woman gathered her plate of food and excused herself from the people she was sitting by. Running over she slammed her plate down and sat across from him.