Taron Credence Ilyin's Story

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The last thing Misery remembered was a brown smoke seeping in through the vents in her cells ceiling. The cells in Birdcage were big enough that they never had to risk moving the inmates around of giving them any ‘yard time’. Which was understandable, Misery had always used yard time to escape, or maim other inmates. In the Birdcage she hadn’t even know who her other inmates were. Though some days you could hear screams of fury through the thick walls. The only sign in eight years that she wasn’t alone in there.

The food would appear three times daily like clockwork, dropping from the ceiling in a tightly sealed paper box. Gross, dry food that didn’t require refrigeration of preparation. Food that sustained life, but could hardly be considered a luxury.
Now everything was dark, a rocking motion and jostling brought her back to the present. Misery’s vision was blurry and her extremities tingled. Where was she? What happened? She could hear metallic clinking and as her eyes sight sharpened up she could make out shapes from the light filtering in.

As her brain started engaging and her senses started coming back to her, she realised she was in the back of an armoured van, the walls being clearly reinforced as all outside sounds were dulled. Hence the jostling as the van drove over a presumably bumpy, rural road. She tried moving her hands, but they were attached to a heavy chain, the other end of which was tightened around the wrists of a small child. The other occupants of the van were equally chained up, and were either still out cold or drifting into consciousness like her.

There was a dulled thump, and Misery was thrown from the bench as the Van rocked violently before all the jostling and rocking stopped. She could hear people yelling outside the van, though the reinforced nature of the walls dulled the words. She frowned, still feeling blurry and a bit off. She tried to get up at head to the door at the back, but the chains pulled her back.

She jerked chain hard to pull the boy with her. “We need to get out of here.” Her voice was quiet and croaky, whatever shit they had gassed her with was clearly still in her system. But she was present enough to at least realise whatever was happening outside, this was her chance. She put her palms up to the door and blasted cold at it, causing frost to climb up the door and coat it. Super-freezing the metal, and hopefully making it brittle.

She kicked at the door with her feet. Still bare-foot and dressed in yellow overalls, as was the inmate uniform in the Birdcage. She rammed it with her shoulder and felt it give a little. “This is our chance.” She said with a hoarse voice, hoping that her fellow inmates had a way of getting out, or at least more core strength than her.

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Flame felt like shit. The last thing she remembered was doing push-ups in her cell. She didn’t remember anything after that. Her eyes fluttered open but closed a second later. From what she saw, she knew she wasn’t in her cell. Currently her heart was pounding, she felt nausea, and she felt like she was burning up. The sound of metallic clinking irritated her. What the hell is that sound? She was curious, but her body felt heavy. Her eyes only opened when she rocked off the bench. Anger warmed her blood.

Lucky for her, she was able to stay on her feet. Her ever changing green eyes took in her soundings. She ended up staring at her chains. She wasn’t happy that she was attached to a young man. Her unhappiness grew when she saw he was attached to a child. To make it worst, the child was attached to a bald woman. Flame’s own hair was loose and out. She stayed stilled as she tried to listen to the yelling. Flame wasn’t sure if she couldn’t make the words out because she was in the vehicle or because she felt drugged. Her eyes went to Egg, the bald woman, as she went to the door. A small smile graced her lips. Where does she think she is going? Did she forget about the chains?

Despite wanting to make a joke at Egg’s expense, she stood fully to her height of 5’1”. Flame changed the woman’s nickname to Frosty when she saw her blast the door. She got as close to the door as she could while being chained. Once Frosty wasn’t touching the door, Flame took a slow and deep breath. When Frosty finished speaking, she blasted the door with blue flames. She closed her eyes for a second as the heat radiated off the door. It felt nice. She thought she heard the door crack or creak a bit. Flame was not sure. She was sure when her vision blurred. She had made the flames extra hot and it took a good chunk out of her. She wouldn’t be blasting anything else any time soon. The metal touching her skin felt hot, but she did not mind. She wondered if the man's chains got warm or even hot.

She yanked her chains hard, so she could walk closer to the door. Flame leaned forwarded to feel the heat fade quicker than it should have from the door. She frowned a bit and could imagine what the weather was like outside. May as well try my strength out. I have been just exercising since being locked up. "If you see guards, attack…unless you want to end up locked up again. Also, if everyone else doesn’t help with this door, we may as well take a seat," she said.

“Three…two…” she paused as she braced herself for what she was about to do, “One!” She flung herself forward to push door. Flame just hoped the others went to do the same. She didn’t really feel like getting jerked back, especially if the man next to her stayed still. Maybe she’d burn his face off if he decided to stay in his spot.