Rachelle LaRue's Story

Rachelle awoke to a splitting headache. "Ugh what happened?" She looked over to see a muscular, darkhaired young man also in the room with her. "Where am I? Who are you? What's going on?" She was scared and confused. She struggled to stand, but couldnt, so she braced herself on the cold corner behind her. Her whole body was in pain. "Are you a kidnapper? Do you want ransom?" She had never been in a hostage situation before, but she had seen movies. Waking up in a dark room to find another person there, walking around. Sounded pretty kidnappy to her.

He hadn't noticed the woman before, she appeared young, and beautiful, her sudden awakening put him on a deceivingly calm alert. He hadn't thought to look for others, he had a sudden pain in his chest at the stupidity of it all. He would be silent a moment, ignoring her words, her eloquent words fresh on his mind as he considered them. And what did he know that she didn't? Definitely, nothing. His voice would be that of a proud young man, deep and yet soft, charismatic despite the sudden pressure he felt bearing down on the cell. "I'm not the one who kidnapped you, and I'm not looking for a ransom," He would lock eyes with the woman for a moment, noting her steely blue eyes, he would crack a crooked smile.

The pain would still be fresh on his body, more so following the foolish punch to the wall. He would scold himself for the lack of control, "As for who I am, Colten. And you are?" It would be said with sincerity and he would extend his hand with an air of confidence in an attempt to put her at ease. He was heavy at work planning, perhaps she could help in the escape of the cell, though her nervous antics and noble disposition, made him quite sure she didn't have the proper skill set for such a task.

Rachelle looked him over. He looked innocent enough, but she was hesitant. "Rachelle. My name is Rachelle." She looked to is outstrecthed hand, and reluctantly took it. She couldn't hardly stand on her own. Her whole body tingled and was numb, like she had been drugged. "What is going on? If you didn't take me then...who took us?" She was on the verge of tears. She couldnt help it. "I wanna go home..." She couldnt control her tears. Her stomach felt uneasy and she let his hand go and sat on the ground again. She held her stomach. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

He wouldn't know how to react, pulling the hand away as she began to panic. He would crouch beside her, "I can't answer that question, unfortunately." He would look her in the eyes, slightly uneasy at the thought of the girl 'getting sick,' not quite sure what that entitled. "I need you to calm down, Rachelle." he would put gentle emphasis on her name. Inside he ached with a brooding, buried anger for the situation and whoever had put him here, along with this girl who looked above the very place. He noticed however she didn't seem the least bit beaten, only groggy and dazed as if she had been subdued in a softer manner, than himself. Bruised and battered, bloodied in places, shirtless, his dark cargo shorts ripped at the back pocket, and here this woman was, still lovely, though hectic in her mannerisms.

As a tear crept along the edge of her eye he would pull his arm from his side to wipe it away with his thumb, being careful not to be forceful, and to not let the rest of his fingertips rest in her hair. "I can promise you this, once we get out of here, and we will." Thoughts of his past would bubble in his mind, shifting and bringing him to realizations as he would speak, perhaps looking slightly out of it and unfocused for a brief moment before his gaze upon her returning to be acute and attentive. "They'll wish they hadn't locked us up." His smile would return.

Rachelle slightly smiled at the man. Then she thought to herself. What about food? Will they hurt us? What about my baby? She gasped and looked to her stomach. "What could they have injected me with to knock me unconcious?" She said it clear and with urgency. She desperately needed to know if her child was ok. Even though it was the child of a one night stand, it was her child. She was worried it would have affected her child in a horrible way.

He would look to her stomach as well, not quite sure of what she was so worried about, "Whatever it is, you'll be alright." He would give her a nod, rising and returning to the bars. Three years of Agri in high school, he was sure if he couldn't find a trick to the metal, he could break the hinges to the rusted structure of it. He would survey it, applying pressure with his hands and putting his weight on it for a moment, he would find it unstable and yet sturdy. A slight moment of thought, recalling what he had learned in Ag metals, he inferred it to be iron. Realizing this prison must date back far. Never having been modified to fit the standards of prisons in the modern day. Rust overcame it, exposing the dark metal only in places, as he would pull his hands away flakes of the orange rust would come off causing him the slightest discomfort. He would step with his right bearing down on it, and then pull it up noting the fortunate movement.

He would smile to himself walking to the sink, with a steel grip he would work the pipe until it came loose, curved at the bottom, the sink would dip down, hanging to the wall. He would wield the rusted tool tossing it up and catching it in a nonchalant and medial manner that made in his mind clear what he was doing. He would look to Rachelle with a concerned look, "I'm going to get us out of here," With one great heave, his muscles bundling sore, but years of baseball and exercise had made his swing true and precise, and devastating to the metal. It would create a massive clang, repelling the pipe, sending shock waves of intense pain up his arms. But he held it true, prepared to deliver another swing. Much to his relief however it had come loose, banged and dented, he struggle to get the pipe under it at the rim and pried for several seconds until with a loud pop it came off.

One down, two to go.

Rachelle worried, but telling hik she was pregnant would possibly not end well. People in movies like this situation she was in would throw anyone who could slow them down out of the group. Pregnancy, in her mind, would be a slow down. She stayed seated on the cold floor, noting the rips and dust in her dress. It had been her favorite casual dress and was now ruined. It was the least of her concerns, first being her life, second being the baby, then the man, then normal 17 year old girl worries. She wanted to cry out, call her family, make them rescue her, but it was impossible, as she couldnt find her phone. When the metal clanged, she flinched and gasped at the sound, it shocking her back to reality. The man, Colten, tried to comfort her with talk of escape, but Rachelle's head was still spinning from whatever drug had been put into her body. He sounded far off, but close at the same time. "Please..." She whispered so softly she almost didnt realize she had said it aloud. "Please be ok hun..." She said a little louder, forgetting Colten's presence.

Colten would note the senseless talk of the woman as he continued the process of it all. Surprised no one was coming to investigate, he felt safe assuming they were left here without the supervision of any one. He was deeply troubled with this hysteric woman, for her health and mental stability. It had been years since he'd taken health, what was the necessary care for shock, again? He would give one fierce pull, rubbing his palm raw as the door struggled to hold on, he would pull away giving a half-assed thwak! The bottom most hinge would crumple in it's disrepair, near falling. He would give a broad smile in the mounting triumph. Looking back to check on the woman before returning to his work.

He would pull in and out on the door shaking it, it was clear it was on the verge of giving in, he felt fresh sweat on his forehead, under his arms, at his chest. He would lift a dirty hand to wipe it from his brow. He would give a deep sigh. For the first time thinking that perhaps people were in the other cells. If there were, they had yet to make themselves known. Surveying the outside he saw only other barred doors, white crawling walls, and a wooden bench. The vague image of lettering having been pulled apart with age. Reeling back with one quick, yet powerful blow the door fell and he would quickly put his weight into it, working it so that it fell into the hallway.

He would wield the pipe with a silent pride, at the ready for whatever challenge next presented itself. He would look to the woman, "Are you coming, Rachelle? Perhaps it'd be safer if you waited here while I checked our surroundings." He would give her a bright and stern smile letting the pipe hang loosely at his side.

Rachelle noted the end of Colten's struggle with the bars. He wanted to leave her. He would leave, and he wouldnt come back. "No! No I... I wanna come too." She had to cool it. If she kept freaking out, he may ditch her. She could die. Her and her baby. "I just need a weapon, perhaps another pipe or something?" She studied him closely. He looked determined, but worried. Was he worried for her? Why would he worry for her? He didn't even know her. Why wouldnt he save himself and go on with his life? It made no sense to her. "I'm ok. I am just scared and...well scared pretty much sums it up." She stood and looked to the door. "What do you think is out there?"

He would look over at the woman a moment, a weapon..Hmm. He looked about the room not finding much, of use. If it put her at ease, he decided to give the bar, he knew not what she was capable of, but keeping her calm and her wits about her would be beneficial, he would extend the pipe to her with a smile. "I'm not really sure what could be out there, our captors are somewhere and in this moment, that's the only thing I hope to find." He would cross his arms a moment looking out to the hallway, "But my main concern is what may be in the cells, sitting still a moment, the ringing having subsided he could hear a faint shuffling somewhere far off. He would walk over to the fallen door lifting it with one great huff and heave setting it against the opposing wall of the hallway so that the woman could easily get out of the cell. Manners were important, after all. In any situation.

He would look about noting the bareness of the scene, he would walk forward, silently, much to his surprise a man and woman were startled, shrieking as he walked into their view, cowering in the corner. He would turn, "Look for the keys to the cells." His voice ringing with urgency. He would then look to the people, their mangy clothes startling, their feral appearance unsettling, "We're going to get you out of here." He would move on, in deep search for the keys, noting the great amount of people in the cells, scared witless, an asian man alert and at the bars in one. And a dead man in a pile of his own blood in one.

Rachelle walked slowly behind the man, holding the bar like a bat. She was scared, terrified actually, but she needed to keep her wits about. She tried her hardest not to speak, gasp, or react majorly to any of the environment around her. Breathe she thought. Just breathe. keep your wits about you or he may leave you here to die. The man said something about keys.

"Keys? Where would they be?" She figured they would be in an office or hanging in the hall, but they could always be on some dead guy somewhere, or worse, on a living guy. The guy who took them. "What if the kidnapper has them?"

(Sorry writer's block)

Chou looked back at the prison couple talking. He noted the pipe and watched to see how it was held.

"If the one who kidnapped us has them, then we simply take it back," Chou said matter of factly. "It is the answer to our problem, so that is all we have." Chou Baey was not a violent man. He knew he would be able to subdue someone in a controlled manner, he looking at his current situation he figured it might be best if he didn't bring too much attention to others. If they saw him as dangerous, he could end up ostracized from the group. Especially since these seemed to be the only people that he will seem to have contact with for who knows how long.

"If it alright, I would like to help in any way possible."

Devin had knelled down to work on the lock to his cell door when suddenly the door opened on its own with a loud click. The sound suggested that Devin's cell door; perhaps every door in that block, had some sort of triggering mechanism, no doubt activated by their captor.

Perhaps this old prison wasn't as empty, nor as run down as was assumed, clearly someone must have prepared the cells long before placing anyone within them.


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Even though there was no discernible official ranking for the current prisoners, each prisoner had their own designated number, their jailer had little interest in their identity on the outside and so he didn't take the time to remember their names.

The one named KC for instance, he had designation inmate #13B1.

As with Devin, the barrier which imprisoned the female police officer within a tiny 12' x 12' jail cell had also clicked open by a preset trigger.


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Colten and Rachelle, affectionately designated inmates #4B5? and #8B5? by their jailers, were one of the few to have escaped their cells in defiance of whoever was keeping them prisoner.

Those who had yet to escape and were now actively engaged in tampering with the locks to their cells, were in danger.

If they should fail to trigger their release the cell doors might be render inoperable, they had been set on a timing device and were obviously setup in this fashion, perhaps as an attempt at mental and emotional torture.

Luckily Colten and Rachelle had freed themselves from the cell and were currently walking the corridors of cell block 5.

-The main door of each cell block would prove to be far more formidable-

The man and woman which Colten had discovered remained huddled in the corner of their cell, they were hunkered down with their faces turned toward the wall, each eliciting rather disturbing gurgling sounds from their throats.



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At that exact moment deep within cell block 3 two females prisoners designated inmates #3B3 and #7B3 had just introduced themselves, as the one named Lauri was actively working on the lock to her own cell.

Unfortunately, their jailer had a rather special bone to pick with these inmates.

As the young woman with the hair accessory was attempting to jimmy the lock a second bolt was activated, thus creating a double lock down.

In contrast to her situation the door to Jo's cell had clicked open like the others had-She at least was free to exit the cramped closet-cell.

Before Jo could take a single step she heard the sound of the main cell block door opening, only to slam shut seconds later-But not before letting something from the outside into the cell block 3.


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Nico, Mullen and Vladamir (otherwise known as inmates #9B6, 10B6 & 11B6) had a special connection to one another, and although this memory was no longer as accessible as it had been in their past, it was the main reason why they were housed in the same cell block.

The unexpected phenomenon in cell block 5 was not limited to that section of the prison-The trio were graciously offered the same temporary reprieve from the hardship of their collective situation.

And so, even as one of them worked on his cell, the cell door for one the others had opened on its own accord, while the double lock down system was initiated for prisoner #10B6.

Unfortunately, the damage caused by inmate #9B6 had jammed the system and now his only option was to completely break down the heavy iron door.

The gurgling created a new pain in Colten, terror. What the hell was going on, everything seemed to be going to hell. He would look over at the asian man, "Can't very well help from inside there." To make things worse Rachelle was actively worrying about where the keys may be, instead of actively looking for them. He would let out a deep sigh gritting his teeth and looking about, rushing down the hallway he would fling the wooden benches over in desperate search for them, a switch, anything that could get the cells open. He felt the sudden pressure of it all, like something would go terribly wrong if he didn't have these people out in time. Out of the corner of his eye he would see a flash at the very end of the corridor, at the edge, where two walls met.

Charging forward, he would throw caution to the wind, finding his way to the rusted keys. They were large and old fashioned, the key ring a thin wire, mangled and wrought. Yet something was off about how easy it was, as if they were placed to seem as if there was an attempt at keeping them out of the way and yet were left there for a specific purpose. His eyes would be more so alert, acute on the keys before hesitantly he grabbed them up, he caught the sight of the hallway around the corner. A sudden determination at the sight of such darkness.

He would rise turning, he had the urge to toss the keys to Rachelle, but in her panic he didn't trust she'd catch them and be quick to get to opening the cells. This may be the very fate of all of these people and he couldn't bank on the woman while she was in shock. His muscles ached with the strenuous activity of that past hour, his knuckles caked with blood, shirtless and with torn pants, he didn't understand why he was here. What had he done to be faced with this endeavor. He went to the asian man first, as he had been the closest, searching for a moment before finding a key with a number, vague as it was matching the chipped painted '1' over the entrance to the cell.

With a click the cell would open after a few moments wrestling with the lock.

Chou stepped back giving the man room to work. Whether they trusted each other or not was not the issue. Currently they were all they had, along with the girl. When the door opened, Chou watched the cell door slide up and stepped out. He followed the man to the young woman who he had been talking to.

"Hi, I'm Chou Baey. Thanks for getting me out of there. I'll make sure to pay you back somehow. I hope that key is for a lot more than just this area." He said looking at the number of dangling keys. Chou nodded to the young woman when he first saw her. She was attractive to say the least, but it was he couldn't take his eyes off the pipe she was wielding. He hoped she was as calm and collective as he wish she was. "Chou Baey, pleasure to meet you. He looked around at his surrounding realizing that it was probably not a pleasure for her nor was it really one for him either. What are your names?" he asked after a her cell was opened.

Rachelle was still very much scared and confused, but with the numbers on her side.growing, her worries began to slowly fade away. When she spoke, her voice was soft and labored. "Chou? Korean is it?" She had perfected quessing foriegn name origins over her teen years and had alot of confidence in herself. Plus the small brain boggler kept her mind from scaring her. "I am Rachelle. Nice to meet you as well." She lowered the bar to waist length, lossening her grip so her knuckles were no longer white.

Rachelle's stomach churned. She needed food. She was eating for two now. She had to be more careful. Her head was still spinning, and was only getting worse. She felt lightheaded. What day was it? How long had it been since her last meal? "Would anyone happen to have anything to snack on tucked away in their pocket?"

Small talk and hunger, he didn't understand it all. These people resolving themselves to nonchalance, but perhaps that was their way of coping with it all. He had gotten cell '2' open and a man would barrel out of the door bruised and weary. Colten was no stranger to people, he suspected there was more to Chou than met the eye, perhaps he knew a martial art, or was just handy. "Chou," He would look to the man he had let free, he was large and toned, about 6'2" and stocky, a fierce red beard and bald head, wearing a leather vest, gruff. He would pat the man on the chest, "And you sir, will you please go around that corner." He would turn looking to the place where the keys had been setting, as if motioning to that hall. "And see what's down that hallway." He would move on, having finally opened the third cell. He thought perhaps the couple in the corner should be a priority, but didn't know the condition of all these people.

"Rachelle, I need you to open these cells." He would wrestle with the key ring until he got the '8' key from the iron, pulling it away and turning to hand the keys to the woman before trotting over to the cell with the couple. It was darker within now, and he could only hear the gurgling and low whimpers, bits and pieces of the people in the columns of light, it seemed their light bulb had died, which was to be expected a great deal of the cells were dark in this way, along with a few shot light bulbs in the corridor. He would slip the key into the keyhole, shaking it a few moments.

One of the subjects under the rule of Devin's court wasn't satisfied with the situation, as it had been laid out by the midget king, something which the brute was determined to correct.

Stepping from behind the gathering of mainly gruff looking convicts was the rather large frame of Daniel Powers, or "The Powerhouse" as he was known throughout the facility. He was a big man with an even bigger attitude; a low intelligence sort of person, yet menacing and mean tempered.

Pushing the other inmates aside he came before Devin. "Listen to me pencil dick, I don't take orders from anyone. This is my cell block sweetie pants."

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The two woman could here the sound of someone shuffling their way toward the cells from around the corner, but then the sound of stepping feet ceased, returning the cell block to a normal level of ambient sound, save for the heavy breathing of Jo and Lauri.

There the mysterious visitor would pause, unlike the inmates however, this person didn't seem to be breathing very hard, in fact he wasn't breathing at all.

Slap!!

Came the loud sound of a fleshy palm smacking against concrete. A bloody hand grabbed the corner of the wall, honoring Jo and Lauri with the very first glimpse of the horrors that await every prisoner.



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As if hunger, fear, and pregnancy weren't sufficient enough concerns, the introduction of yet another obstacle would certainly break what little will the inmates of cell block 5 had left. Perhaps it would have been a much better torture tactic to have introduced this next bit of confusion to the individual in cell block #1. Still, it should provide much amusement to whoever it was that had imprisoned them.

The surprise came when their was a lull in the frantic, screamed conversations between the terrified inmates of the block, in that moment they heard the faint sound of paper sliding on a concrete floor-A newspaper.

The situation that these people have found themselves in would have an effect on an individual, be it mental or emotional. One thing was certain, they were all quite sane, this wasn't the figment of someones dream, this was reality.

The people trapped inside cell block 5 knew who they were, they might not understand how they came to be in this prison, but they knew that they lived in the real world of 2012.

Accept for the unnerving fact that the headline on the first page of the newspaper indicates that the year was in fact March 21, 2017. It seems that nearly five years of their lives had escaped them. The jailer was overwhelmed with the anticipation of seeing their reactions once they picked up his little present.



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Kc was unaware of the drastic shift in time from her last memory till this very moment, as a result her observation concerning the impracticality of surveillance equipment being installed within such as disheveled and outdated prison was incorrect, the people controlling the prison had ample time to achieve such a feat.

She was indeed was being watched, though there was no way to ascertain who this person, or indeed persons, were. For all she knew, a prisoner could be one of these people in disguise.

Possibly one of the more seedier criminal elements from directly across the block, though more likely one of the seemingly innocent, average citizens down the aisle.

A piece of paper rolled on the floor and stopped at Charles' feet. The only reason he noticed it was because he was getting tired. He bent down to see what it was.

"Wha- what the fuck is this?! he exclaimed with wild eyes as he turned to Chou. "What the hell is this supposed be?" yelled as he showed Chou Baey the paper. At first he did realize what the big deal was. That was until he saw the date. He took the paper from Charles' hand and read the paper over. It was just a standard story, but the date was unmistakeable. Before Chou had a chance to give it any more thought Charles ham sized fists had found themselves around Chou's throat. He dropped the paper and quickly twisted his body and angeled his arms close to his body and turned freeing himself from the giant man. He gasped for air but he soon realized the guy was coming at him again. Chou rolled and coughed and took his stance.

"Hey. Hey! Listen to me! Calm down! There is probably a rational explanation for this." he called out loud enough so the others might hear and help calm him down.

Rachelle took the key from Colten and made her way down the hall, slowly and with the bar gripped tight. A shuffling shound came from in front of her and she stopped. "He- Hello?" she called out. "Is...Is someone there?" A gust of wind blew through and a newspaper drifted with it, hitting her leg before resting on top of her feet. She looked down at it, then back to the hall ahead. She squatted down to pick it up. It was a normal newspaper, with headlines and pictures and the date and publisher across the top.

New York Observer
March 21, 2017

2017!! She gasped. There was no way! But it was there! "C- Colten... Ch- Chou..." She turned back the way she came, but didn't move. "Unlock them first. Maybe they had a prank paper and it blew under the door." she said to herself. She took a deep breath and headed for cells that had yet to be unlocked. She stopped at the first cell she came to. "Hello? Is anyone in here?" She tried keys until she found one that fit. "I'm unlocking the door now." The door swung open and Rachelle stepped inside. She looked around and saw the silloette of someone sitting in the corner. "Hey...You ok? I can help you." Rachelle walked closer as she talked. The person stood and turned to face her.

"I wanna go home." It said in a frail and hurt voice. A young child stepped out of the shadows, with a man at his heels. "Where are we? Who are you?" The man was confused, like everyone else had been at some point.

"I'm Rachelle. Come on. Let's get out of here." She Checked other cells, but found no one. They walked back to find the others.