Snippet #2557078

Butch

"You better do it... Or else I'm going after you..."

And with that Butch exited the room, not there to witness vomiting of Dominique, and if he had the choice to watch her sicken because of crime, he rather not. And what if he did get away with it? What would Dominique do then? As Butch walking out of the lounge, he was nervous what if someone popped out, stopped him and asked what happened. He tried his best to make it look like he was just carrying Vanessa and tried to hide her bloody beaten face.

He successfully made his way down the elevator, where he descended far down Morus. He was going to the deepest level near the engine room, a place where they hold a furnace to burn bodies, usually for prisoners who die during their sentence, because there was not dirt here in the ship to bury the bodies. Butch had never been down there before, it was dark the only means of light source was the dancing flames. How could he had let anger be the best of him? But not only was it his temper that haunted him but his hands, he never thought his hands alone could do such damage. He always bragged about his muscular strength, but he never knew he had a grown strength to kill a woman.

Butch laid her body in the flames, turning around for he could not bear the image of the fire eating away at this young girl's corpse. He thought if he burned her body then the image maybe even the memory would be burned from his mind. But no, it only worsen things. Tears started to trickled down from his eyes, conviction swept in. A girl he wanted to forget about, was forever foraged in his remembrance.

Petra

Petra and Mei had just finished lunch and was now moving into yard time. It was weird, Mei had not been sectioned to the interrogation room, in fact it felt like they have not interrogated Mei in a quite some time. Petra feared they were depending on her too much to get information out of her cell mate. And she did not like that because that made her a key component to the case, putting too much pressure on Petra.

She took a seat in the bleachers next to Mei. The yard felt more fake than Petra last remembered, but she was not complaining the artificial setting was much more pleasing to her than that dark cell. And just because Petra left the asylum physically, did not mean she could wipe away Alva from her mind, nor could she wipe away the scream. Some nights Petra lies on her bed holding one her knifes she picked from her cache, and she shifted the blade to her ear, so tempted to hack it off, desperate to stopped the howling ringing in her ears.

Petra could not be bothered with the thought of Alva, she had a priority and it was to gain information or be forced to be thrown into the asylum. It hurt that she had to do this to her only friend, but being trapped with Alva would probably hurt more. "S-so, how did you like e-earth?" Petra asked gently with her stuttering. "It wasn't like this fake yard, agree?"