Supermax Psychic

[arjunk]

Όνομα Συγγραφέα: Άρης Π
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Σχόλια: Γλώσσα - Αγγλικά. Γραμμένο με βάση το Writing Prompt: A psychic man is placed in Supermax (σημ. "υψίστης ασφαλείας")  prison with a life sentence. Everyone fears that getting in was his intention all along. 

 

  "All right, Max. You got a visitor --"

  The prison guard jerked back as soon as he opened the little opening into the cell's interior. He'd seen some crazy shit inside those cells, he'd developed nerves of steel by now, but that still didn't amount to anything in the face of sheer surprise.

  Behind the open slot was a wide open eye, staring at him.

  It was replaced by a smiling mouth. "Good morning, officer. Excuse my impatience, it's been getting real lonely, all the way down here."

  "Motherfucker" swore the guard, under his breath. "You're gonna give me a goddamn heart attack."

  "I said I'm sorry, officer Hughes."

  "Did you, now?"

  "We both know you don't even remember wether I did or not."

  Officer Hughes stared blankly at him.

  "Now that's what I'd call, inattention to detail." Max was acting giddy today, not that this was anything new.

  "You're lucky you're such a high-profile case, Maxwell. If it was anyone else, I'd be more than happy to wipe that wise-ass smirk off your face."

  "Now now" Max said, condescendingly. "Bare your fangs all you want, little doggie, but you wouldn't leave unscathed from that situation, be sure of that. You may be able to hit my body, but I've got a much more... direct grip on you, my friend." He laughed. "Your brain, numbskull. I'm talking about your brain."

  "Do you ever shut the hell up?" Hughes was unlocking the multitude of manual door-locks that were the last part of an intricate set of lock-up mechanisms at Judah's Cross Maximum Security Correctional Facilities. "Come on out and hurry it up."

  Max almost hopped out of his cell. He went past the guard and up the long climb to the surface.

"I can tell you're contemplating something fairly stupid," he said after a while. "Let me make myself perfectly clear: I know about... that."

  Hughes froze. "Fucking freakshow..."

  "Oh don't worry about it, my friend. If you could see what I see, you'd realize you're probably the least fucked up person in this place."

  "Yeah, yeah. Move it."

 

  "Take a seat, Mr. Adder."

  "Will do. You can call me Max, Mr..." Max paused. "Really? How unimaginative could your parents be?"

  John Smith of the CIA smirked. He'd heard this guy's good, but he didn't realize how fast he was, too.

  "Nice demonstration of your... abilities, Max. I suppose you already know why I'm here?"

  "Oh yeah, sure, but don't mind me. Please go ahead. There should be something for the recording, else how will your higher-ups know you've done your job?"

  The agent took out some papers from a briefcase. He looked them over.

  Max was humming playfully.

  "Maxwell Adder. You were... caught with several instances of explosives strapped on your person, as well as in the possession of several remotes, each linked to a set of tele-activated patches of C4.

  "And all of this in the area of the former World Trade Centre. Cute."

  "Thanks."

  "Now, it wasn't much of a leap to get onto you, as you were, in fact, screaming your purpose of taking down as many lives as you can, while publicly showing your... equipment. Yet we still got an anonymous tip right before the fact."

  "That was me."

  "We know."

  "Oh, really? Psych. I know you do."

  There was a brief silence.

  "So you wanted to get caught, is that right?"

  "What? No! Who would want to rot in a prison cell, are you insane?"

  Agent Smith gave the man a hard look.

  "Don't screw with me, pal. You've got a ton of questions to answer and, believe me, there are ways to get them out."

  Max spoke slowly. "How's your wife, Johnny? Her eye feeling better?"

  God, John thought. This is going to be much more tiresome than I thought.

  "All right, all right. Enough threats. First and foremost: you need to tell me how you've come across your... gift."

  Max stared coldly at the man. "You know damn well how."

  John instinctively glanced at the camera. He quickly glanced back at the stupidly grinning man in front of him.

  Impossible, he thought. We've all got psychic shields around those facts. No one is supposed to...

  "Listen, schmuck." Max was being openly arrogant, now. "You're dealing with forces you don't understand, here. This isn't about the contamination of the water of a few select towns --"

  John Smith banged his fist on the table.

  "-- nor is it about my seemingly psychotic acts.

  "It's about you, being afraid. 'Oh, how could a man that sees into other people's heads possibly get caught? How could a man with the ability to foresee the future, end up in a place like this?' Well, I'll tell you how." He leaned closer to the agent. "I like it here. It's much better than the world out there. Do you know what it's like to be able to see into other people's hearts, Johnny-boy? This whole society facade is nice, but underneath? We're all fucking animals, man. No noble spirits, no altruistic intentions. Everyone's just scrambling about to get a piece of the pie, and they'd do the most horrible things you can imagine, if it meant they got a bigger share."

  John Smith eyed the prisoner intensely. Max was heaving now, as if it took great effort to say what he just said. He checked a few boxes on his papers.

  "All right, Maxie. We'll be in touch. Guards!"

 

  The psychic pariah was in his cell again, alone. No sunlight reached down here, this far below the earth.

  Idiots, all of them. They could never figure him out, not in a million years.

  He paced back and forth pensively. "Thirty seconds to go," he said in a muffled voice.

  The truth was, he liked it out there. People's hearts didn't really bother him, and the fact that he could read them? He was a king among cattle.

  That's why he was so saddened by his vision. Sometimes he even wished he wasn't the only one to be able to bypass the psychic shields.

  Ah, poor souls. They weren't all animals, not really. But they were destined to be the victims of the ones who unabashedly were.

  He stopped pacing. He stood near the edge of his cell, looking up.

  Suddenly everything started shaking violently. Max sidestepped to keep his balance.

  "Woah, ha ha."

  The shaking stopped after a few seconds. Alarms could be heard in the distance.

  A giant crack had formed on the wall in front of him. He gave it a gentle tap and quickly ran to the back of his cell.

  The wall in front of him tore open, revealing a hole in the ground, on the other end.

  Max got out and climbed up. He looked about him at the wasted earth. He could hear the sound of what he knew to be   Russian choppers, off in the distance.

  "Animals" he said out loud.