Prisoner 3-57: Nuke Town (21 page)

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Convicted Murderer

Fiona Knowles
(Prisoner 2-91)

Level: 17

Missions Complete:
16

Kills: 36

Experience: 420/500

Credits: 11,000

Status: Active...

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Convicted Murderer

Prisoner 3-57

Level: 6

Missions Complete: 5

Kills: 14

Experience: 140/500

Credits: 2170

Status: Active...

Mission Five: Nuke
Town

Chapter One: Final
Moments

Is
this it?

Am
I going to die?

It’s
so hard to catch my breath. My chest is so damn tight. My eyes feel
so heavy. I can barely keep them from shutting. My body is numb, but
I’m aware of the cold. Is it cold? It had been sunny outside.
Wasn’t it hot earlier? Yes. It had been clear blue skies and a
sun was shining bright. Have I lost too much blood? Ha. Of course I
have. I don’t think I can list the amount of injuries that have
occurred to me on this mission. I got beaten on the space ship. I am
fairly sure Saul broke my nose. I got blown up, thrown through space
and smashed into a metal wall. That had buggered my back. Skull had
kicked the shit out of me. Those sick fucking indestructible aliens
had battered me around good and proper. I had third degree burns
across my torso. Rose had given me something to stop the pain, which
had been nice, but it meant I kept going when I really should have
stopped. Saul had then shot me three, or was it four times? Iaso had
cut off the fingers of my right hand. Lena shot me through the back
and blew out my cheek and several teeth. That pretty much covered it.
The fact that I made it this far was a miracle.

What
happens now?

What
was I doing here?

That’s
right!

I
came here to kill Prisoner X.

I
came here to kill Rose.

The
sister I never had.

The
sister they deceived me with.

She
is just a disease that lives inside my brain. I have been tricked my
entire life. I fought so hard to keep her alive and away from the
cops, but it was a lie. She never existed. I am Rose. I am sick. I am
fucked up. I am a paranoid schizophrenic. All the things I thought
she did, I did them. I am the sick one, not her. The Prisoner Program
just gave her the platform to return. This virtual reality prison
sentence gave her the tools to take over, but why are there two of
her? There is the one in my head and the one that has taken over the
game. How is that possible?

Everything
started to go black.

Does
it matter any more?

What
can I possibly do to stop her?

She
has won.

I
am finished.

Suddenly,
a high pitched voice screamed out in pain. The shock brought me back.
I forced my eyes open. I was looking up at the ceiling of some kind
of office. It took every last bit of strength I had left to turn my
head to the right hand side. Iaso was staggering around. Light green
blood was running down her naked blue body. The beautiful alien was
wearing nothing more than a skimpy rag around her most private area
and a small bit of cloth that covered her large plump breasts. Iaso
was the best warrior I had ever seen. She was fast, strong, agile and
smart. Her beauty matched her skills.

Iaso
fell to her knees.

Her
twin samurai swords had been stabbed straight through her back.

She
was spitting up green blood.

I
watched as she charged forward and suicide dived through the window.

How
high up were we?

I
could see rooftops of smaller buildings.

Why
had she done that?

‘
Brother.’
Rose loomed over me. She looked about eight years old. How did she do
that? My sister was in her mid-twenties when I had been arrested, but
this thing in front of me looked like the little girl I used to know.
She smiled a big friendly smile. This little girl didn’t look
capable of hurting a fly, but she had managed to defeat Iaso without
breaking a sweat. ‘You finally made it.’

I
passed out.

Chapter Two: The
Prisoner Program

Pain
sparked within my eyes. The stinging sensation was immense. It felt
like some kind of liquid was creeping behind the back of my eyeballs.
I could feel something foreign down the back of my throat. I
thrashed, as fear kicked in. I was met by instant resistance. This
wasn’t due to chains or locks. It was water. I was under water.
I forced my eyes open. The stinging sensation from the green tinted
water was slowly subsiding. I was wearing some kind of face mask
across my mouth and nose. They had put a tube down my throat?

It
was then that I saw him.

What
he is doing here?

My
Father was stood in the room in front of me. He looked a lot older
than I remember. How long has it been since I last saw him? It has to
be over six years. I haven’t seen him since I managed to leave
Earth. His face was thin. He had lost a lot of weight and muscle
mass. His hair was completely silver. He looked like an old man. He
did not look like my father.

The
Warden was stood to one side, observing my father.

Why
was that sick bastard here?

The
Warden was wearing his dark blue uniform and blue cap. He had that
electric shock stick on one hip and a pistol on the other. I had felt
the painful tip of that electric stick more times than I cared to
remember. The Warden took pleasure in torturing the prisoners. He
liked to make us fight in brutal knock out battles. He would create
tournaments for people to watch. It was like something from ancient
times. There was never any victor. The victor would get to face off
against the Warden, after his men had kicked the living shit out of
them. He would then beat them down and put on a show. The guy was a
fucking psychopath.

I
opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t make a sound with that
thing in my mouth. I had to warn my Father. I had to get him away
from that man. Unconsciously, I attempted to pull it off my face, but
the thing seemed to have no locks or latches. I banged my fist on the
glass of the tube I was in, but they didn’t seem to be aware of
the sound.

‘
Is
that really him?’ asked Father.

‘
That
is Prisoner 3-57,’ replied The Warden.

My
Father was stood in front of some kind of medical examination table.
It was one of those silver ones I had seen on forensic crime
television shows. A body was lying on the table in front of him. A
white sheet covered the corpse. My Father pulled back the top of the
sheet and gasped. He blocked my view. I couldn’t see who or
what he was looking at.

‘
Christopher...’

What?

I
fought against the water.

I
had to free myself.

What
is going on?

I
am Christopher!

‘
How
did he die?’

‘
He
was attacked by an inmate, Prisoner 3-59.’

‘
Did
he suffer?’

‘
No.
It was quick. I am sorry that you lost your son,’ replied The
Warden.

‘
I
lost him a long time ago.’

I
could feel my heart break. A sickening sensation twisted within the
depths of my stomach. What was happening? I am not dead. I am here. I
am behind you. Just turn around and look at me! My father put the
sheet back over the head of the body and turned to walk away. He
paused momentarily and looked up at me. I could see a sense of
confusion sweep across his face. The Warden stepped up beside him. He
had that sick fucking smile upon his shitty face.

‘
This
is one of our entries into the Prisoner Program,’ explained The
Warden.

‘
One
day he will be released back into society?’

‘
That
is the hope.’

‘
I
wish my son had been able to join the Prisoner Program.’

‘
I
share the same sentiments.’

It’s
me!

My
Father carried on walking.

NO!
IT IS ME. I AM HERE.

The
Warden’s smile spread even wider. I thought it might consume
his eyes and ears.

He
leaned in closer to my glass tank.

‘
Say
goodbye to your father, 3-57.’

I
could hear him laughing as he walked away.

Chapter Three:
Miracle Worker

I
blinked once.

My
eyes opened.

Something
didn’t feel right.

I
sat up.

Confusion
was the soup of the day.

‘
Huh?’
I padded down my naked chest.  A thrown creased my brow. All my
injuries had gone. The horrific burns, the lost teeth, the broken
nose and the gunshot wounds were all gone. I held up my hand and
wiggled my fingers. They had somehow grown back. How was something
like that possible? Have I died? I took the opportunity to take stock
of my surroundings. I was in a large and spacious office-come-
meeting room. It was like someone had knocked down the wall between
two adjacent offices that belong to very important CEO’s. There
was no reason for any man or woman to have an office this big. It
served no purpose, but to impose that this person was someone
special. The left and right hand walls were covered from top to
bottom in old fashioned black and white television screens. Horror
filled my heart. On every single screen a battle was taking place.
Trapped players were battling those demonic skinless zombies that
Prisoner X had created. The nightmarish army of demons were
unstoppable killing machines plucked straight from a mad man’s
deepest darkest thoughts. The majority of the screens were filled
with twisted faces full of fear, or people being ruthlessly eaten by
the un-dead hordes. There was no furniture in the room apart from a
single chair. It was sat before the wall length windows that
overlooked the city.

‘
You’re
finally awake,’ said Rose.

She
got up from the chair and turned to face me.

She
looked like she was about twenty-three.

I
reached for my gun, but my holster was empty.

‘
I’m
afraid your weapons are over here,’ she tapped the gun and the
computer tab that were balanced on the arm of her chair. ‘I
thought it was the safer option to remove your weapons whilst you
slept. How are you feeling, Brother?’

‘
I’m
not your brother,’ I warned her.

‘
Fair
enough, but you could thank me for healing your injuries.’

‘
Fuck
you.’

‘
You
always were a charmer.’

‘
What
am I doing here?’

‘
I
think you mean, why haven’t I killed you?’

I
replied with a nod.

‘
I
need you.’ She began to walk across the room towards me. ‘I
need your help.’

‘
Why
would I help you?’

‘
Why
wouldn’t you help me?’ she replied with a counter
question.