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Solitary confinement. It was a dastardly construction, designed with only the tortuous intentions in mind. It wreaked havoc on the mind, making sanity one's worst enemy. After time, going insane may have been the more tolerable option. In fact, if CJ Jones had been left alone for long enough then he might have simply allowed that to happen.
Four walls. They were likely grey, with splatters of blood, sweat, and streaks of tears. It had never been bright enough to confirm the suspicions but CJ had initially imagined huge, circular bloodstains, surrounding the entrance especially. Perhaps once upon a time they'd dripped vicariously, drenching the enclosure in streams of slaughterhouse pain. The box was undoubtedly marked by the stench of captivity and suffering; that much was proven by the torturous chains hanging from the slab opposite the door. One for the neck, two for the hands.
And CJ dangled precariously from the three.
Although it couldn't be seen, the body was lifeless. His entire form was slumped over, allowing the clasps to chafe the blistered skin of his wrists, and the metallic ring encompassing his neck to scrape the sensitive area and leave it reddened and scarred. But that scarring was far from the most prominent. The uncovered torso was littered with marks; there were a multitude of inflamed stripes that were an obvious result of numerous whippings, as well as a crude image of a joker-esque smiley face carved into the centre of the abdominal region. The most concerning of all of the marks on his body, however, were the crimson racing stripes on the insides of both forearms.
As well as the haunting damage to the body, a single - wishful - beam of light would have highlighted the huge gash that ranged from the right ear to the centre of the scruffily bearded chin. It cut directly through both the black stubble and the corner of his dry lips, making breathing through the mouth more of an impossible task than it already was.
While CJ's body continued to dangle lifelessly within the black hole of hopelessness, the door creaked open. Just like every other time, whoever entered made sure to do it in the darkness of the night, not allowing any external light to flash momentarily and ignite the dead fire within the subject. Usually, it was only one shrouded figure that entered. Some CJ recognised, some he did not. But this time more than one filtered in, resulting in a cluster of four.
"Well now," The cold, shrill voice of one woman echoed. "Claudius, if you'd do the honours."
"Of course." Claudius Blossom replied before lifting up the bucket of icy water that he had entered with. With more aggression than required, he launched the contents across the cell. CJ returned to an attentive state with a series of splutters; the freezing temperature of the water was enough to leave him shivering, and every ice cube that had pelted him felt like a miniature rocket.
"Did that really require such vigour?" Another woman questioned. "The floor is soaked." She commented in annoyance, stepping forward as Warden Norton (the second male in the group) shone a bright white torch in CJ's damaged face. "Hello again, Mr. Jones. I see you had no problems with that last batch."
"Fuck off."
"That was rude, kid." Penny Peabody piped up, standing beside the woman who was in clear control of the situation. "Talk shit again and I'll cut off one of your balls-"
"And you can still choke on the other." CJ ground out, glaring directly into the shining light.
"Don't cross me, Jones. I'll cut them both off and mail them to your pretty little girlfriend for good measure..."
"Peabody, why don't you go and grab the case?" Claudius suggested as the tension began to rise considerably. Penny snarled at the order but followed it nonetheless, returning with a stereotypical silver case.
"You think he'll be ready for the rounds again tomorrow?" Norton asked sharply while Claudius cracked open the case, revealing a syringe with a rather disgusting brown substance within that was surrounded by a protective black foam.
"With the extra rocks in the formula I don't doubt that he will." Claudius stated confidently, passing the syringe over to the woman in charge while Penny closed the case.
"If you stick another one of those fuckin' things in me I'll kill you all." CJ growled. "I'll track you down one at a time and rip out your throats with my bare-"
"Shush." The woman hissed viciously, cutting him off by ramming the tip of the syringe into his left arm. CJ couldn't help but cry out in pain as she wiggled and forced the needle in further, injecting the mysterious substance with a painfully slow pace. "Who's the crusty bitch now?" The authoritative voice scoffed, ripping the syringe out once it was empty. "Insolent boy." Penelope muttered, handing the item to Peabody before storming out of the cell with Claudius in tow.
"Will you hold this for a moment?" Penny held out the syringe and case to Warden Norton who took it without protest. "I know you're needed for tomorrow..." She trailed off, moving towards CJ. "But that doesn't mean I can't have a little bit of harmless fun while I'm here."
Meanwhile, in the Leopold and Loeb Juvenile Detention Center, Archie Andrews glared up at the bland ceiling of his cell. He was convinced he was already going slightly crazy while locked away, as there had been a couple of nights that he'd woken up every time a roaring scream travelled softly through the corridor. There were moments he could've sworn that it was his imagination running wild, but other times he simply knew that the tiny sound of a bellow was hard to think up.
The next morning, Archie couldn't resist asking his aloof cellmate about the fleeting noises. His curiosity had always bested him.
"Hey man," Archie started off cautiously, perching on the side of his bed while Mad Dog quietly read one of his worn books. "I swear I heard screaming last night. What was with that?"
"If you ask anyone here, you'll get the same answer." Mad Dog replied, sitting up and shiftily leaning in to indicate that it was a subject not to comment on. "No one knows. Some guys like to say the place is haunted and shit but it ain't been going on long."
"Really?" Archie pestered, understandably curious about the late night noise disturbance; usually when a prisoner kicked up a fuss at night guards would be there to bang on their cell and order them to shut up. "How long's it been?"
"Couple months, it's hard to tell."
"Have you noticed any patterns?" The redhead asked. "It feels random."
"Don't know." Mad Dog responded, sitting back in his bunk and focusing back on his book. "Must be one crazy dude though."
