Warning: will probably seem rushed and you're a psycho b*tch. Deal with it :D

━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━ masks pt.1 ¥å₦ÐêRê§ ï₦ þrï§ð₦ ━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━

Clink.

The sound of shackles crashing into each other and metal grating on metal. The taste of blood in her mouth and the sensation of her bones snapping, teeth grinding, and flesh ripping. Was it her blood that painted her hands, feet, and face crimson? She didn't know. All she knew were her masks and the bars.

Clank.

She saw the heavy metal door slam shut, engulfing her in darkness. The only light that reached her poor, murderous soul was from a tiny slit in the iron. A tiny slit and that was her only exit from the place. That is, if she could escape her confinements.

Hiss.

Week one, the interrogation started. They removed her muzzle and the thick metal bands restraining her torso and those things by her sides they called limbs. They peeled the fabric off her eyes and slid the straitjacket off her thin, malnourished frame. She looked weak, tired, and barely alive. But they knew better. They knew what she was capable of.

Slice.

Week two, the torture began. They were foolish; they'd forgotten they'd taken out her voice box long before her capture. They resorted to writing, but they had broken her fingers. They tried gestures, but her arms were crippled. Nothing worked; she was nothing but a faceless creature trapped within a human husk of a body.

Snap.

Week three, the rot started to set in. They left her for dead, alone in that metal box of hers. Strapped to the wall, blinded, muted, and starved. When was the last time she saw light? When was the last time she ate? Countless questions ran through her head, but they were eventually lost to the darkness inside her head.

When was the last time she breathed? She had lost count.

Crack.

Week four, the insanity crept in. It was hard being isolated from everyone else, starved, dehydrated, crippled and forgotten. She craved human contact. She desired the feeling of blood on her skin and a blade in her hands. She wished to move her arms freely again, to be able to run her fingers through sliced open bodies and rip out their still-beating hearts. But she had none of that. They had taken it from her.

And she vowed to get it back.

She still remembered the look of terror on their faces when they saw her standing in their doorway, her joints dislocated from her escape. Her muzzle and the cloth around her eyes were still intact, having been stitched into her skin. She remembered their white faces and bloodred lips as they watched her every move. Watched as she reached up and ripped the cloth off her eyes in a shower of blood.

And then the screaming began.

They screamed, begged, threatened. They tried shooting her and chaining her again. But it didn't work. It didn't stop her from cracking their skulls open and stabbing them down the middle.

The pain no longer hurt her. It reminded her she was alive.

And now she was going to do all the things the living did, even if it meant stealing their lives away in the process. But first, she had to escape.

₩̸̺̰̹̺͗̈́̾̌́̔̌̾ͅ₳̴̛͇̭̦̺̗͙͚̏̉̃̓̄͘₮̸̨͍̰̬̬̀͌͛₵̷̧̛̼͈͓̞̖͛̿̂̈́̽̈̀͠͝Ⱨ̵͙̇͒̀͆̂̀͒͒̇ ̴̡̝͕͈̺̹̲̙͕̎͌Ø̴̩͉̾̓̕͜Ʉ̶̺͉̅̅͛̄̾̚₮̶͓̱̟͇̤̠̯̱̞̒̿̊̇̆͋̍,̵̛̜̄̈́̉̾͒̿͛͠ ̸̛͇̩̤͔͂͛̄̀̄͒̀̉ͅł̶̫̂̈́'̴͎͍̻͗₥̵̥͗͐̽͋ ̸̰͚̥͍̿̇͜͠₦̴̮͔͖̱̔Ø̶̰͎̹͇̼̗̈̈̿₮̵̛͖͖̤̒͛͠͝͝ ̶̰̭̹̬̺̪͖̓̇͒̏͛͝Đ̶̡͕̭̲̑̈́̋̿̐̈́͂͜Ɇ̶͉͇͓̒̆̏̌̔̉̆͊̕₳̸͖͚̝̔̂̀͝Đ̷̢̰̖̹̠̇̃̐͌̚͘ ̸̢̣̣͇͚̭̬̯̞̈̒͐̿̅₳̵̖͎̟̱̯̤̍̊͆͐̿̃₦̶̗̙̤͉̦̤̯̣͓̟͛̎̽̅͊̅͋̕̕Ɏ̴̩̲̜͎͖̯̈́̂͂͘₥̷͎͎̝̈́̏Ø̵͉̓͒̋́̆͠Ɽ̴͖͇͉̲̆̔͋̕͘͝Ɇ̵̢̢͚̲̗̜̺̫̮͆̓̀͐͋͆̚͝͝ͅ.̴̧̭̮̖̤̳͈͍̗͐̔̈́̈́̈͝͝



// fσяtυηα ρяιѕση ❀



The whispers started.

"Did you hear? There's a new inmate being transferred in."

"I wonder what he did to get sent to this hellhole."

"New blood's about to get f*cked up, haha. Probably just another p*ssy."

Then came the rumors.

"I heard it's a girl. They say she's a convicted murderess."

"I heard she killed a whole gang with her bare fists."

"Seriously? I was told it was a whole mafia. Or maybe it was the government of a Middle East country."

Then was the power talk.

"I bet I could top her two seconds flat."

"Shut the f*ck up, you horny bastard. I saw you messing with that guy from Cell 404 last week."

"Nah, bro. It was the other way around."

"Do you think she's a psycho? Because if she is...§hê'Ð £ï† rïgh† ïñ."

"Where is she being transferred?"

"Where else? Obviously Cell 404."

"...Oh, sh*t."

Cell 404 was a fairly pleasant place, compared to the doghouses many inmates were forced to toil in. The guards shoved the girl through the door, clad in all her heavy shackles and collared glory. The residing inmates looked up in surprise at the new addition who was thrown to the floor of their neighboring room.

"Stay in there and don't cause any trouble," the blue-haired guard snarled. His piercing ice-blue gaze flickered to the other two prisoners. "Same goes for you, 404."

The black-haired male bared his teeth. "Keep talking, Knight." His voice rumbled in his chest, coming out as a low, husky growl. His companion murmured something under his breath and curled into himself, hugging his pillow closer to his chest.

"You three"—the guard glared at the two males and the chained girl—"Don't try to talk to each other. If you do, I will know. And you don't want me to know." And so he locked the door separating the two divisions of Cell 404 and slammed the cell door shut. The only exit to the room was on the two males' side, making it harder for the girl to escape.

She heard the blue-haired guard's rapid footsteps fade into the distance. After a few minutes of lying there, she slowly flexed her hands and pushed herself to a sitting position.

That f*cker didn't bother to unlock me, she realized with irritation as she seethed at the chains wrapping around her arms. When I get out, he's the first one to go down. It's a promise.

She began untangling herself, snapping the rusty chains off her limbs with ease until all that remained with the steel cuffs on her wrists, ankles, and one around her neck. The girl felt her face for the first time in a while and curled her lip at the raised scars from the stitches she had ripped off her face.

Her movements were silent and careful as she began surveying her room. It was a small, 4 x 4 tatami-floored room with a single, barred window facing bricks and a locked, metal door. Even if she broke through the door, she knew, all that awaited her were a couple of prisoners.

No, not just prisoners. In order to be sent to Fortuna Prison, they had to be serious psychopaths.

Her lips curved into a smirk. Sounds like my kind of people. But she wasn't here to make friends; she was here to regain her status of a living person again, and then escape.

And when she escaped...

Her (e/c)-colored eyes snapped to the door. Someone was watching her. A pair of crimson eyes peeked through the bars at the girl within it. Their eyes locked, and he blinked impassively at her. Their staring contest lasted for a good five minutes, neither willing to look away.

She relented first. "Look again and I'll rip your eyes out," she purred. Much to her surprise, the boy smiled.

"Do you promise?" His voice was cracked and barely above a whisper, but it was still the most pleasant thing she'd ever heard.

"What the f*ck did they put you on?" The (h/c)-haired girl frowned. "You want me to take your eyes with me?"

His smile didn't change. "Will you?"

She clicked her tongue and looked away. "Forget it." Crazies, all of them. She turned her attention back to her room, ignoring the burning gaze she felt on the back of her head. Her first priority right now was to leave in a bloody grandeur, not to entertain some wacky emo kid with several screws loose.

She tried prying the tatamis loose. It refused to move. She tried knocking on the walls, searching for a crack, moving her few furniture, and even prying the bars off the window. Nothing worked.

And while she searched, the boy continued staring at her.

She plopped down against the wall facing the door to rest and ran a hand through her limp, (h/c) hair. Taking a few deep breaths to regain her strength, she tipped her head back and closed her eyes, focusing solely on her breathing.

Her eyes reopened, locking on to a pair of crimson ones. "F*ck off, boy," she snarled. "What are you looking at?"

He stared at her for a while. Then he spoke, "Do you want me to open the door?"

"What?" She furrowed her brow, not believing her ears. "Are you sh*tting me right now?"

"No. I can do it."

"Yeah, and I can wrestle John Cena to his death," the (e/c)-eyed girl scoffed. "Like hell, I'd believe something like that—"

Click.

The door swung open, revealing a room identical to hers. A blond boy stood in the doorway, slightly slumped forward. He had one arm wrapped around a pillow and the other dangled limply at his side. He smiled at her.

"See?" He crooned. "I told you I could do it."

She tensed her muscles but made no move to leave. The wheels in her head were turning furiously. Is this a trap? She thought. Wait, the shortie's not alone. There's someone else in there.

In the far back, a man was leaning back on his hands as he watched the T.V. mounted in the corner. From her angle, she could only see his back and head of dark black hair. But that was enough to send shivers down her spine.

Through the shirt, she could see well-defined muscles. His arms were by no means scrawny, especially compared to his golden-haired roommate. The male didn't appear to notice her at first and yawned. He scratched the back of his neck, his muscles flexing through his shirt as he did so.

She knew he could snap her in two easily. She remained still, silently praying he didn't notice her. But of course, the blonde shortie had to ruin all of that.

"Hey, Leon," he said to the black-haired male. "Look, she's all chained up. Isn't that amusing? It's just like you when you first came here."

He turned.

Her heart stopped. And she leaped to her feet, settling into a defensive stance purely by instinct. His silver eyes raked down her form disinterestedly and he yawned again.

Is he going to attack? She frowned. If he does, I'll have to use the shortie as leverage. He'd be easy to kill at least.

Leon turned back to the T.V. and she relaxed. He's...not going to kill me?

It was strange, meeting someone in her cell who didn't try to strangle her immediately. But she couldn't let her guard down; now that the door between them was open, who knew when she'd wake up with her throat crushed or head smashed in?

First law of surviving behind bars: kill or be killed.

She was striving for the former.



// α мσηtн ℓαtєя ❀



They got along well. Almost too well, to the point that guards found themselves at multiple occasions wanting to kill them and be done with the three psychopaths.

The girl and the black-haired male were like long lost siblings, both equally dangerous and rowdy. It wasn't unusual for one of them to appear at the bars of their cell door to scare the new guards. As for the blond boy, he and the other two had a strange relationship the guards almost couldn't believe.

He was being...taken care of. Almost as if the three were a normal group of friends, and he was the delicate, shyer friend the other two found themselves adoring.

Leon and the girl were the brawn in the group. He was the brains, unlocking their cell with ease. They never killed anyone when they escaped and were recaptured, although they did send a few to the hospital.

The guards couldn't take it anymore. So they placed their best and most vicious guard in charge of the notorious Cell 404.

His name was Tristan Knight.

Ruthless, cunning, and unmovable, he kept his prisoners on a tight lease with nothing but his intelligence and a whip. He didn't rely on the brute force that got the other guards killed; his mind and silver tongue was more than enough.

He slammed the door open. "Cell 404, report!" He barked. "Number 7, Leon Matthews?"

"F*ck off, Knight," the black-haired male growled.

Tristan ignored him. "Number 13, Kim Jaehyun?"

The blond pressed his back closer to the wall. "Here," he whispered quietly, his crimson eyes peeking up at the guard under his long lashes.

"Number 17, ����?"

"I'm right here~"

The blue-haired guard did not flinch as her voice appeared next to his ear. The (h/c)-haired girl had crept up to the male in the brief moments he wasn't paying attention to her. Tristan pushed his glasses up his nose and gave her a scathing look.

"Very well, you three," he said. "Hold out your hands. We're going to Block 404 today."

She tilted her head in innocent curiosity and complied as he locked her cuffs together. "Why?"

"None of your business, 17," was his only answer. "7, 13! Stand up!"

Jaehyun slowly made his way to the girl's side and lingered slightly behind her as the blue-haired man cuffed him. Leon groaned in irritation and reluctantly stood up. His glare burning holes in the guard's head as he was handcuffed.

"You will be escorted straight there and then back in the afternoon. No funny business or I will not hesitate to dispose of you."

"Okay, Mr. Guard," the girl drawled, a devilish glint in her (e/c) eyes. "We won't do anything."

Tristan searched their faces for any sign of untruth. Leon's face was twisted into a permanent scowl, Jaehyun's was as impassive as ever, and the (h/c)-haired girl's face bore the same knowing smirk he hated and loved at the same time.

He grunted and turned to face the front. A pair of other guards flanked the group for security reasons. "I do hope you can keep that promise, Number 17."

"Yes, sirrrr."

A wicked smirk curved onto his lips, mirrored by the two flanking the girl. Little did she know, she wouldn't be returning to Cell 404 anytime soon.



// αяяιναℓ ❀



She tried everything. Decapitating her guards, breaking free of her chains, bursting out of her cell, holding her fellow inmates hostage—nothing.

Nothing worked.

That infuriating blue-haired guard always found a way to contain her, whether it was a trap he set by tracking her escape route, or taking her spare uniform away when she needed it. She still had some sense of dignity; she wasn't about to escape in her birthday suit.

The (h/c)-haired cursed colorfully under her breath and collapsed down onto the bed in her new cell. F*ck that blueberry, she snarled. F*ck him and his stupid smirk. One day I'll be able to wipe that haughty smirk off his face. He never paid attention to us before so why start now...?

It wasn't just him, she realized. Leon and Jaehyun were acting differently too. The blond became more clingy than ever, refusing to leave her side no matter what. Leon hung around her like a shadow, acting like an overprotective brother as he nearly sent any poor soul who got too close to her to hell.

It was strange. It was disturbing.

It would get in the way of her plans. And she will leave, even if it meant killing the two in the process.



// єѕ¢αρє ❀



Ha, I can finally get out of this place, the (e/c)-eyed girl thought victoriously as she strapped a few knives she'd swiped from the cafeteria to her limbs. And then I'll return just to spite them and blow this sh*thole up. Doesn't that sound nice?

Her first target, she decided as she wound yards of rope around her waist under her padded jacket, was that infuriating blue-haired guard. Then would come his coworkers and any inmates who tried to get in her way. They all wanted to escape, she knew. But if they all escaped, it would hinder her plans. She couldn't let that happen.

So the only two she informed were her cellmates, Leon and Jaehyun.

As expected, the two were more than willing to assist her. They waited until Tristan's shift was over and it was the new guard's turn to make his rounds. Only then did Jaehyun unlock their cell for Leon to subdue him. The girl tossed his unconscious body into their cell and locked it.

"Sorry, sir," she sniggered, twirling the chain of keys she had swiped from the young guard around her finger. "It's down to you or me. And it's going to be."

And they started running. It was impossible to block out all the security cameras in the hallway, so they had to make do with their speed and agility to outrun their pursuers.

The alarms began ringing as the first camera detected an unauthorized presence walking free below it.

"Close off the hallways! Trap them in Block 404 no matter the cost!'

The (h/c)-haired girl grinned as she followed her mental map of the prison, leading the two behind her towards the exit. Moving me here was a mistake, she snickered. It's way easier to escape here than in Cell 404. Bad decision on your part, warden sir, whoever you are.

But something was strange; why wasn't anyone coming after them?

She blinked in confusion as she looked around, her feet still pounding into the white floors of the hallways. She turned to her companions, "Did you guys see anyone pass us yet—"

They weren't there.

She slowed to a slow, her confusion growing as she soon found herself turning a corner to meet a dead end. There was no one around her, and the alarms soon stopped. It was deathly silent, the prison, almost as if she was the only occupant in it. The air hung heavy around her, the only sound penetrating it being her slow, nervous breaths.

Bewilderment, betrayal, and then frustration began to set in. They probably got captured, those idiots, she scowled bitterly. Probably because of that f*cking blueberry. He's looking down on me. You don't think I can escape?

Watch me. I've even escaped from Alcatraz before, you fool.

Something sounded in the distance. Gears turning? A new trap being step? Whatever it was, her instincts kicked in, and she darted for the nearest wall. She peered around the corner in the direction of the sound. A new enemy? Or perhaps they were turning to Rottweilers like the prison in America.

No matter what it was, even if it was just a ploy for her to let down her guard, she wouldn't fall for it. Because after all, murder and prison escapes were nothing but a game to her.

A game she would win, again and again and again.

There was a soft clink of metal on metal, and then the noise stopped. She didn't let down her guard though, her hackles still bristling. Even though she couldn't see it, she felt a sense of danger everywhere.

Behind me? She whipped her head around. Nothing. Above? Below? In front? Nothing, nothing, and nothing. She was alone. It was strange, how no one was coming to get her. If by chance her cellmates did rat her out, there should've been countless guards coming for her right now. So why—

All of a sudden, bars began to slam down, colliding into the floor with such impact the (h/c)-haired girl was almost knocked off her feet. From the front, behind, left, and right, countless cage bars surrounded her, trapping her in. Her confusion and bewilderment morphed into fury as she threw herself against the bars repeatedly.

"What the f*ck?!" She screamed, knowing the blue-haired guard could hear her. "If you want to capture me, do it the normal way! What the f*ck is this?!"

And it didn't stop there; the floor below her gave way, opening up to reveal a seemingly bottomless drop into the darkness.

Her only thought as she began to fall was: Ohhh, sh*t. I really f*cked up this time.



// ¢αρtυяє ❀



When she woke up, she was clad in darkness and chains again. She knew the sound and feel of the cold metal restraints even without needing to look at them. She was blindfolded and gagged again, she realized. Chained up against a wall by her arms.

At least they let me sit down, she thought dryly. Am I supposed to thank them or something? She flexed her wrists. Ah, f*ck this is tight. B*tch thought of everything, huh?

Embarrassment; that was what she was feeling. Outrage and shame at being caught in such a manner. Tristan didn't send anyone after her and captured her easily in such an amateur way. He was outright mocking her, as if saying prisoners were to remain below their guards forever.

And it pissed her off.

I should be able to get out if I dislocate my joints, the girl mused. Alright, time for take one—

"Don't even try it," a voice interrupted her. "The slightest pressure will blow those things up, taking your hands with them."

A chill ran up her spine. After years of being on the run, she had honed her instincts to the point she could detect any sort of danger. And yet, she didn't notice him come up to her.

Forcing down her sudden panic, she made herself focus. Focus on his voice, demeanor, and attitude. Who was he?

The answer was obvious. Who else would it be beside that arrogant blueberry guard of hers?

"Hey, Leon," came a soft voice. Her breathes hitched in her throat and her eyes widened beneath the blindfold. "Doesn't she look funny all chained up like that?" His voice was innocent, as if out of curiosity for a puzzling situation rather than a girl chained up like a rapid beast. "Well, not as funny as the first time we saw her. Isn't that right?"

What—

"Yeah, I'm totally laughing," said another. There were footsteps as he approached her. She could faintly make out a silhouette leaning down and gripping the bars. "You've gotten soft, Knight. Where are the spikes you shoved through my chest last time?"

"I'll shove them through your eyes next time if you want so badly," Tristan snapped. "I'm not wasting them on a masochistic bastard like you?"

Leon laughed. It was a hollow sound. "The only masochist here is that warden of yours. Obsessed with finding the person who cut him up all those years ago. Who knew it would turn out to be ����."

She frowned, pausing in her efforts to snap the chains. What are they talking about?

"You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone," Jaehyun sang quietly as he rocked back and forth. "Look in the mirror, and you'll see something is wrong..."

"Although I do not approve of the warden's methods," the guard sighed. "I admit his plans allowed us to capture her. Hold this." She heard the jingling of keys and a low whistle of appreciation at the sound of a knife being unsheathed.

"Don't make any funny moves, number 17," Tristain said as he opened the cell door. "Not that you can, anyway."

F*ck you too, a**hole. Watch me rip your skin off your smug face, you bloody f*cktard—

"She looks mad, she looks mad!" Jaehyun giggled. "Don't worry, Mr. Guard, I've already dug you a grave outside. Do you want to see it?"

"I don't plan on letting myself get killed today, but thank you for your offer. Come"—he sharply yanked her restraints forward—"We are going to meet the warden. You must be confused, are you not?"

No sh*t, Sherlock, she thought bitterly. Why throw me in here if you're gonna change your mind and kill me later—

"No one's killing you either," Tristan interrupted her out of her thoughts. "Number 7 and 13. Your hands. You're still technically prisoners here, even though we worked together."

What? What does he mean?

"You still don't understand? Well, that's fine too. Because we'll tell you. We'll tell you what happened five years ago...and what you did to us."

"Five years ago," he began as they got onto an elevator. "You were in high school, were you not? It was a time before you turned into what you are today. There, you met each one of us."

All of you b*tches? She echoed in her head, for she could not speak.

"It hurts that you don't remember, ����," she heard Jaehyun sigh. She stiffened as the blond wrapped his arms around her torso and rested his head on her shoulder from behind. "I almost didn't recognize you when you came, you know. The ���� I knew never had such a scary look in her eyes. But that look...that killing aura..."

His grip tightened. "I love it. Hey, ����. Won't you try killing me one day?"

Who the f*ck is ����?! She wanted to scream but couldn't. She tried shoving the boy away from her but her restraints kept her in place. The blond was stronger than he looked, keeping her caged in his arms despite her struggling. Get off of me, you freak!

"But then you disappeared," Tristan continued. He came up to her and slowly pulled her blindfold off. His ice-blue eyes met her (h/c) ones, a strange emotion swirling inside them. "You weren't in the country either. He was particularly frantic, practically tearing the UK apart looking for you. It was sheer luck we managed to find you in that research facility."

"Oi, you didn't tell us that," Leon growled. He stalked up to the other male and seized him by the collar. "What else have you guys been hiding from us, a**hole?!"

The blue-haired male's face warped into one of disgust and he slapped his hands away. "Don't touch me," he snarled, straightening his shirt. "I would never associate with the likes of you but the situation called for it. He wanted you here. Remember your end of the deal or you will get nothing besides a mouthful of dirt from your grave, Matthews."

I'm so f*cking confused and pissed right now, the (h/c)-haired girl wiggled her arms and tried to bite through her gag. Nothing worked. Mostly pissed. This b*tch has a f*cking death wish. F*ck this, I have no idea what's happening but apparently they got some kinda score to settle with me. I'll play along and then murder those f*ckers. Then I'll escape, just like before.

She paused. Like before...?

Tristan's cold eyes flickered to hers, catching her stunned face of confusion. A glimpse of warmth appeared in those icy orbs and his face softened. "Have you remembered, ����?" He said in a soft tone unusual for him. "Do you recall our history? Not that it matters anymore. You're here now, and this time, we're not letting go."

Jaehyun hummed in satisfaction and buried his face into her hair. Leon's face was unreadable as he gazed down at the shorter (h/c)-haired girl.

Realization of her situation began to sink in, replacing her rage with a dread and fear that sank down to the bottom of her stomach. Little bits of her memories were coming back to her. Tristan..Jaehyun...Leon...and him. They—she knew them. She knew them, somehow.

She turned cold as an unidentifiable fear gripped her. Her mind couldn't recall the reason behind her fear, but her body clearly knew it. By instinct, she began to shake. Even when her torturers beat her to near death, she had never felt this way before.

Fake smiles, cold hearts, shrill laughter, maniacal giggles, bruised wrists, spilled pills and loaded guns.

It was at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say it. Even if they removed her gag, she highly doubted she could. Not with him watching her every move.

The elevator chimed, and the door began to slide open. Tristan stepped out first and extended a hand. "Welcome to the top floor of Fortuna Prison," he purred.

"It's about time you met the warden."

━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━

A/N: I love how even though this was meant to help me overcome writer's block, which it did, I got writer's block writing this. Mainly because I'm lazy and I suck at making my stories short. I meant for this to fit in one chapter but as soon as this approached 5K words I was like nope, I'm out. Also, updates will only be Mondays to Friday. I need my weekends.