Prison Break (A Short Story)

[MyLittleHellhound]

Hey guys, another story from MyLittleHellhound here!

It is just a short story, but if it gets good, then I might continue it.

I am just writing because I'm just loafing around today. I'll probably turn this into a really good story, not as long as Stadt Der Untoten, but definitely not as short as just one update. Here is the first part! Enjoy!

Shiny black boots splashed in the puddle of water and mud. They glistened like eels. Tropical storms had ravaged most of the island, showering the gun metal grey building with dirt, water, and broken sticks.

"Bring the prisoner." the voice rasped.

The guards wrestled the man out of a truck parked nearby. He struggled momentarily, and then relaxed. His breath was loud and ragged. One of the guards punched him in the gut, causing the prisoner to double over.

"Fuck you." he managed to gasp.

The guard raised his truncheon for another blow, ready to crack it on the skull of this arrogant fool who-

"STOP" the voice growled. "Bring him inside."

The guard stopped, arm halfway through the air, truncheon raised.

"But sir this pris-" he was cut mid syllable literally.

The stump of his arm was all that remained. The severed hand was still clutching the truncheon, twitching on the muddy concrete.

"What did I say? I told you so." the voice chuckled.

The man pulled out a World War 2-era pistol, a Luger. He shot him in the head, and shot the other guard in the kneecaps, paying almost no attention to the screams of agony.

The man strode over and pulled the prisoner roughly to his feet. He cut the bonds, and gestured towards the door.

"Go."

The prisoner nodded and stumbled towards the entrance. He knew there was no where to go, and if he ran, if he was even in a state to run........he would end up like the guards. The door swung open as if it was expecting him. The two men descended, passing security checkpoints and auto-turrets built into the ceiling. They tracked the prisoner, clicking and whirring. Guards stood silent, like statues, beside every doorway. The air was clean at least, and it was air conditioned here. Good.

The men descended a staircase for at least 15 minutes. They must have the cells deep down.

"Go, into that cell. Don't try to escape." the man rasped. His voice was like tires on gravel. The prisoner stumbled in and the door clanged shut. Mechanised locks clicked and he was trapped. Trapped in an eight by eight cell, with a single bench. The sound clacking boots dissipated back up the stairs.

Die Weltanschauung Prison. Constructed in 1946 for dangerous criminals. It contained everything from rogue authority to pro wrestlers gone bad. The facility was known for its great treatment of prisoners, as long as they didn't try to escape or fight. The prison was located on an isolated island, the nearest land 20 miles away across raging waters. The island itself was wild jungle and volcanic rock. As a bonus, it contained a sealed up shrine that they'd discovered when scouting. No one knew how to open it, or even bother going in. The island was quiet, thank god, and there was no where to go. Hell, besides the prisoners and guards, no one even knew this place existed. Except for maybe the governments of the world.

For a prison on an island, it was well defended, on the interior and exterior. All around the island, there were anti-personnel as well as vehicle mines in the shallow water. These would rip you apart if the sharks didn't first. There were also ballistic missile launchers, contained underground, that would be ready to fire. A single anti-tank gun, automated, swivelled on the mountain, looking for hostile forces. All of this for a single grey building in the middle of the island. Inside was a different story. There were at least 50 guards on the top floor, if not more, every single hour. Not one corner of a room went unseen by high-definition cameras. Auto-turrets stood in every hallway, ready to fire at the escapees. They also had 5 Attack Choppers, fueled and ready to go. Bombers with napalm stood on call, and Predator Drones circled the perimeter. The trained guards sported Kevlar Battle Armour, and had a vast array of weaponry from chemical grenades to flamethrowers to LMGs. They all had at least 2 submachine guns housed on their armour. The base had a self detonating button which would obliterate the whole island, effectively wiping out everything and everyone on it. This is why no one escaped. The ultimate prison for the damned.

[MyLittleHellhound]

Second Chapter- Dont worry zombies will be here soon

The two officers surveyed the prisoner through the camera, scribbling on notepads. Around them in the control center, men and woman observed sensor output, weapons systems, and the other prisoners. On of the officers noticed that the prisoner seemed awfully calm. Usually people freaked out by the time they got here. He was surprised.

"Look at this. He is not even afraid. Send him some food and drink, and we'll see how he reacts then."

"Yes sir."

One officer keyed the microphone. "Food and water down the cell 112 please. 112."

Andrew huddled in the corner, shivering. It was very cold, but he preferred it over the sweltering heat that some prisons had. At least he was on his own. Andrew tested the steel bars, but they wouldn't budge. A guard saw, black visor mirroring his futile attempts to break out.

"You! Stop." the guard ordered.

Andrew spit in his visor, and the guard recoiled. He wiped it away with a shaking hand, and opened the cell door. Andrew backed away, realizing that this was not the first time he had pissed someone off. The guard kicked him and sent him into the concrete wall. Andrew tasted blood.

"You like that? Well have some of this!" the guard growled at him.

Andrew raised his arm in a futile attempt to ward off the hail of blows landing on him. A tooth skirted across the floor, and blood pooled on the ground.

The guard suddenly jerked, and slumped. A small feathered dart protruded from his neck plate. The man behind him was carrying food and water. Andrew fell upon it ravenously, consuming everything within a couple seconds. He looked up at the man, water dripping from his mouth. The man watched him with a curious eye. Then he left, closing the door, imprisoning Andrew once again.

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TAKEN FROM THE CLIPBOARD OF ____________

Date: June 14 1960

Subject:Andrew_____

Cell:112

Observations by: Dr. Graff

He sits in the corner and scribbles writing on the walls.

I do not know what it is, but I am certain it is not mental. He is intelligent, brave, daring. What to do with this one. He may be suitable for the tests we put him through. For now. We wait. They cannot escape.

Signing Off, Dr. Graff.

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Taken from the walls of Cell 112

"I have found my escape. They come every hours for food and if that doesn't work I'll (Unreadable) I can tell that they are arrogant sick bastards who can just rule the (unreadable) 10 days is all I need. 10 days is all I need.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

June 24 1960

--

Andrew prepped himself for the escape later that night. He had it all figured out, and it was fool-proof except for one thing. If he got shot. Andrew sharpened his improvised knife, and waited in the corner. His plan was going to be set in motion, and if he failed, he would be killed. The guard came in, the usual one. His name was Diego or so he told Andrew. Diego was nice, but cold. Very cold. Andrew would be a bit sorry to kill him. Diego put down the tray of food on the stone floor.

"Hey Andrew, here you go. Tonight it's fake chicken." Diego said.

Andrew didn't respond. He adjusted the knife. Diego gave him as much a quizzical look as a guard in a black visor helmet could give.

"Not feeling talkative today? Fine then. See you." Diego turned to leave.

His submachine gun dangled tantalizingly close, but Andrew drew his knife. Diego still had his back to him. Andrew plunged the knife into Diego's neck plate, cutting through. Diego uttered a cry of pain, and growled. He turned and threw Andrew to the floor.

"Boss says for me not to kill you. So I'll beat you instead."

Andrew dropped the knife, and kicked Diego's chestplate. It cracked and little flakes came off. He ducked a punch and grabbed the helmet, twisting it. Diego and Andrew crashed to the floor, fighting. Diego wrestled the knife from the floor, and squeezed Andrew's throat with the other. Andrew struggled, vision going dark. Polka dots danced in his vision. The knife touched Andrew's throat, pinpricks of blood leapt out. Andrew roared, and shoved Diego off. He jumped on him, and with the now free knife, stabbed again and again. The man below him known as Diego was bleeding out from his neck wound. He stopped resisting and just lay there, a pool of blood. "Phase 1 complete" Andrew thought. Suddenly something punched into his side, and Andrew blacked out.

[MyLittleHellhound]

So I doubt I will continue this because well it's getting almost nothing but here you go.

Andrew’s vision flickered and his head pounded rhythmically. His movements felt sluggish, as if he was sedated. His ribs felt bruised, and the side of his face was caked in dry blood. His or someone else’s he could not tell. Andrew took a look around him. He was lying on a bench, maybe the infirmary on the island, or, never mind, it was his cell. Andrew groaned and sat up. Blood was pooled on the floor. Then he remembered. Diego and the fight. Shit. Andrew slammed his fist against the concrete wall, damn. He’d been so close! If only he could have……..scratching sounds interrupted his thinking. Andrew crouched, suspecting a guard coming to beat him for his attempt at escape. The inmate across from him took a look, and his eyes widened. He scrambled back against the back wall, clawing for a way out. The inmate, Johnny if Andrew recalled correctly, shrieked, a chilling sound in the recycled prison air. Then Andrew realized what was missing. There were no sounds of inmates laughing; even the insane ones had gone quiet. They never went quiet……….Suddenly, the building shook. Dust drifted from the ceiling, and the bright sterile lights flickered. Uh-oh. Another detonation perhaps, but this one cracked the seemingly impenetrable walls. Andrew covered his head, expecting the worst. The inmate across from him was still screaming his ass off. The last explosion was closer than the rest. It brought down the ceiling and the lights went out. It was pitch black and filled with thundering, crackling, screaming, and moans of god knows what. Andrew blacked out.

For the second time that day, hour, or minute, Andrew woke up with a pounding headache. The emergency lights were on, courtesy of the backup generator on the island. Red light cast an eerie glow and shadows flickered. A huge chunk of concrete had come down and crunched his bed, missing him by inches. Other than that, Andrew was far from death. He peered cautiously at his surroundings. The iron door to his jail cell had stayed shut, bent out of shape. It was still not enough for him to slip through. Andrew wondered if he would die here, starving in a cell. A shadow shuffled past him, dragging his feet along the ground. It might have been a guard, but Andrew didn’t think so. Could be an inmate. He shouted.

“Hey! What the fuck just happened??” he yelled.

The shout echoed, and the figure slowly turned towards him. Blue eyes decorated the face like gruesome Christmas lights. The face was half in shadow, and the other half was lit red. Or was that just the blood? The cheek was bitten away; he could see the jaws working soundlessly. The skin was rotten and stretched over the face like a too-tight mask. The hands reached out through the bars, fingers grasping for his flesh. Andrew recoiled, and in his hand he found a sharp piece of concrete. He lunged forwards, stabbing the thing through the glowing blue eye. It emitted a high shriek, unlike anything he had heard before. The once human being, Andrew now determined, ignored the pain and grasped the sides of its face. It tried to drag him into its waiting mouth, filled with sharp teeth. A long strand of saliva pooled on the floor and Andrew was pinned against the bars. He took the rock again and stabbed it through the skull. The “human” collapsed, black fluid gurgling from its head onto the cracked floor.

Andrew shuddered in disgust, and it struck him that he was alone. Totally alone in this cell. Perhaps the only one left on the island. Suddenly, there were moans and shouts. Gunfire echoed down the hallway and a bullet pinged off the bars of his cell. Andrew kept his head down, and watched in horror as a guard, almost impossible to kill in Andrew’s eyes, flew past him and crumpled with a wet crunch against the opposite wall. The man slumped, and his visor was cracked. The guard’s blood poured out from his helmet, splattering the floor. A streak was also on the wall. Fumbling for his sidearm, he managed a short gurgle before a huge zombie, rotting skin and all, stumbled towards him and ripped his face apart, leaving a bloody ragged form.

[tri4]

dude, good job! continue please brains for you! [brains]

[ZombieOfTheDead]

It's pretty good. You may want to space your paragraphs a little bit more, though. It can still be a little tedious to read. I like it so far, wondering who even knocked him out, and why the zombies haven't eaten him yet.

Also, love the name of the main character, cause that's my name 8-)