I silently gazed out the window, reflecting upon the emptiness of the desert. Well, it was really more of a savannah but my current location did seem fairly barren. Looking up, I glanced at the front of the bus. The driver was clearly reflected in the front mirror, and his expression of focus only made me more resolute. He was focusing on the road, or moreover, the lack-thereof. The sand made a horrendous crunching noise under the weight of the rusty old prison bus. As the wheels ground against the coarse earth, I could only attempt to reduce my aghast expression. I turned to look dejectedly around the metal walls, which seemed to have become my current prison.
Besides the driver, I was alone. But that did come with its advantages. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on gaining any mental clarity I could. Suddenly, I felt a stinging pain in my hands. Looking down, I noticed that the position my handcuffs were in was cutting off my circulation. Not only that, but the heat from the desert I was in only seemed to magnify true intensity I felt in the situation. The metallic surface of the silver cuffs glinted like demonic eyes under the intense sunlight. Slightly blinded by the kaleidoscopic reflection, I rubbed my eyes and resumed my focus on the cuffs locking mechanism. The gears, bit and chain of the system were surprisingly obvious. Shifting slightly I raised my knee onto the chair I was sitting on. Struggling with my tightly bound arms, I managed to maneuver them to gain access to the sneakers I was wearing. Barely managing to lift up my shoelaces, I pulled a bobby pin out from the inner part of my shoe. Slowly returning my leg back to the floor, I quickly darted my eyes to the front to confirm that the drivers focus had not been diverted by my sudden movement.
Seeing that they had not noticed, I began to work on my handcuffs lock. After two minutes, I had this brand of cuffs worked out. Practicing, I was able to cut down my time to only 8 seconds. No wonder this place had a bad reputation, even its handcuffs were cheap and flimsy. Sighing, I couldn't tell if I was excited or disappointed that the facility I was sent to lacked proper funding. Actually, it had excessive funding. It was a corporate cash-grab by some private company. Fegefeuer Correctional Facility was notorious for its foul guards, broken equipment and numerous lawsuits.
In other words, I was dismally excited at the prospect of arriving. The four hour long ride had left me parched, and the arid climate didn't help. Looking forward, I could see the main compound looming in the distance. With a small cough in the air, due to the sealed vehicles unbearable heat, I laid back in my seat and waited for my arrival.
Ten minutes later we had arrived at the main compound. The overall structure alluded to a classical school, and the chipped yellow paint seemed to blend in with the desert dunes. When the bus pulled to a halt, I gazed out the front window to see two heavy set guards in a motley uniform. Sighing, I stood up and walked towards the front of the bus. The driver glanced up as I approached, but then weakly hit the doors release button and turned to a book on his lap.
Stepping out, I observed the two guards. They were each wearing a blend of black and brown fabric that didn't look comfortable, given the climate. They motioned towards the entrance door and I silently strode towards it. As I paced forward, the driver hopped out and dashed into the building. Almost grateful for the sudden rush of cool air, I slightly tended up at the action. After narrowing my gaze due to the suns rays, I shook my head and continued.
As I stepped through the broad oak entrance my feet crunched into the sand piling around the doorframe. Winching at the horrendous crunch, I continued forward. As one of the guards brought me to an old, rustic wooden chair I sat down. The other guard disappeared for a moment before returning with a navy blue bag engraved with the initials V.A.W. Vivian Anne Wisteria. The guard passed me the bag and turned towards the front desk, sitting down and apparently working on some forms.
Turning my focus back to the bag, I opened it and observed it's contents. It held a change of clothing, basic sanitary supplies, and an I.D. Card. Looking at its contents, it contained a microchip, registration number, D.O.B. and my reason for admittance. Smirking at its simplicity, I noticed there were still a few objects left in the bag. I pulled out a glossy, three page pamphlet with a photograph of the main compound on the front. Opening it, I observed it's contents only to be greeted with mealtime charts, contact info, a crudely sketched diagram of the extended compound and a rule list.
At first, I thought the rules were commonplace, and relatively self explanatory. But after a few moments I noticed a few rules were a bit... off.
Rule #13. All doors automatically close after 10PM via an electrical switch. If you are caught outside and die as a result due to the -15c weather, it is not our responsibility.
Rule #24. Your I.D. Card must be used to obtain meals and any necessary items. They are to be kept private. If any occupant possesses another occupants card, both will be subjected to solitary confinement.
And the strangest of all the rules,
Rule #40. Don't ask what's in the food.
Well, that was certainly ominous. I shook my head in grief knowing that there would be a guaranteed chance that someone thought it was human flesh. However, I didn't think that anyone here would care.
Given that Fegefeuer Correctional Facility gave sanction to some of the worst juvenile criminal offenders.
Originally written July 22, 2017
Edited June 29, 2018
YOU ARE READING
The Ninth Cabin
Mystery / ThrillerEverything seemed normal in Fegefeuer Correctional Facility. But it's eccentric and diverse residents had other plans. However, the Warden was the largest mystery of all. Rated 15+ for mentions of gore and violence.
