Bailey woke up late for work. This usually happened on Monday morning, but it was especially bad today. It was the day after Halloween, and she was hungover, and feeling awful. This inclined her body to sleeping through the shriek of her alarm, and so, thirty minutes late, she stumbled out of the lobby of her downtown apartment, and began running down the sidewalk with her bag clutched close to her chest. Her puffy jacket blew open as she ran, allowing the autumn chill to freeze her down to the bone.
She thought she would be used to the frigid November on year five in Detroit, but somehow, she never quite adapted. Especially in the shadow of larger buildings that blocked morning sun, a string of which were in her path to the Chronicles office on the edge of downtown. She did her best to resist the urge to stop and shiver. But, when she did eventually see the sign for the Detroit Chronicle as she burst around the bend, it was like water in a desert. She was almost there, and was relishing the idea that she might get to actually feel her hands again before returning to reading proofs for the next story.
She was so lost in this thought that she slammed headfirst into someone going out of the door. Bailey bounced right off, staggering backwards, and hitting ass first into the hood of a nearby parked car. Lucky enough, she didn’t stumble off the curb and twist her ankle.
Standing in the doorway were two people she knew. The first was well built, but not particularly tall, with ochre skin, a bomber jacket with a few patches, and a pair of round glasses that didn’t go with his frame. Alister, one of her coworkers, gave a bit of a sigh as he stepped back. Meanwhile, the woman she had bumped into, tall, fairly muscular for her size, and bundled up in several layers of puffy jackets, walked over to give her a hand up.
Lothioara had pale skin that might have a greater tone beneath it’s washed out look, and deep blue eyes hidden behind broad brimmed glasses, the rings underneath them always making her look just a little bit sick. Bailey had asked if she was on and off for the first few months of knowing each other, and the answer was always a flavor of no. She assumed it was normal, and moved on after that. She took the hand up, and her friend hoisted her to her feet.
The two of them were the closest Bailey had to friends from her work. Both of them were full reporters for the Chronicle, whereas Bailey was stuck on intern duty. She had known Lothi when she’d first joined, but she’d been lot more talented then Bailey. And Alister had gotten hired out of the gate from college, after having impressed the boss. Once upon a time, the two of them couldn’t stand each other, and it had been a tight catwalk trying to befriend both of them. Eventually, after they had completed a breakout story on the Maestro scandal by working together, they warmed up to each other. She was pretty sure they would be dating within a year. That was her hope, anyway. There was definitely sparks there.
She and another friend both wanted it to happen, anyway. Though her opinion was shared in confidence.
“I was wondering where you were.” Said Lothioara, with a smile that while tired, seemed earnest. “We were about to leave without you.”
And with that, as memories of commitment returned in a flash, Bailey realized her hopes of a nice quiet morning were out the window.
“The…” She began.
“She forgot.” Alister said, grimly. Bailey’s face went redder then it already was.
“I didn’t forget!” She protested. “I just wanted to warm my hands first.”
“Well, you’ll have to do it once we get to the Pentamax. I don’t want to be late. Gives the wrong impression after all the begging we did.” Lothioara said, as nicely as she could manage.
Bailey just nodded, finally zipping up her jacket. The three of them walked over to Alister’s car, a 70′ Satellite that had seen better days. Bailey, as usual, got stuck with the back seat. The car’s heater only relieved her chill slightly. Alister and Lothioara were already talking away about what they wanted to ask the Warden about. Bailey just wanted her headache to go away, staring at familiar, unremarkable streets. She’d gotten used to the big city, and the novelty had gone away a long time ago. They weren’t driving through any of the districts that had been forcibly remodeled lately either.
She did see more homeless people then the weeks before, she saw buildings halfway under construction that had been like that for years, and she saw a lot of trash. According to Alister, it was like this all over the country. Like buildings that blocked the sun, Bailey had adapted to this too.
Eventually, though, they turned down one of the longer streets, nearest the lake, and they could see it.
Built on the surface of Lake Saint Claire, was a nightmarish mass of concrete and metal. A giant filament net sprout from each column of the several towers that supported holding such a structure above the cold waters of the lake, which were partially frozen over, only thawed by the heat of the generators near the base. A single bridge connected it to the mainland, decorated in checkpoints, watchtowers, and similar. The prison stretched from about four stories above the lake, to eight below, supposedly going deeper underground after that.
A lot of people called it an eyesore, when it was first built. Bailey called that the understatement of the century. She was curious why it wasn’t in the middle of Lake Erie. Maybe it was so the Canadians didn’t have to see it as much.
Eventually, their otherwise swift journey was turned to a slogging halt. At each individual checkpoint along the bridge, Alister showed his press card, and explained why they were there, and recited some code he was given. She swore he did it over a dozen times. At the last couple, they had to show even more ID, and Bailey rummaged around in her wallet with cold fingers.
She almost complained, but each look at the guards, in their sleek grey and slightly mechanical uniforms, wearing their insignias of some government agency, made her keep her mouth shut. For now. She counted a lot of guns.
At the last one, they each got out of the car, and were waved down with some kind of strange device. Whatever it was, it flashed green after each time it scanned one of them, so that must have meant it was fine.
They were directed to a spot to park, and did so. Not much in the way of a parking lot, so the car was instead stored just off to the side, presumably where it wouldn’t get into the way. The three disembarked.
“Well, here we are-” Said Lothioara, stretching out one arm, having escaped the crammed interior. “-Feel safe yet?” She asks, with a slightly wry grin. Alister rolled his eyes.
“Safer then I do most streets of this shithole. Warden’s inside.” He says, walking towards a door that read “Public Affairs”.
“…Did they really need ALL those checkpoints?” Bailey griped, a little quiet, not entirely confident she wasn’t being eavesdropped upon.
“Probably not all of them.” Lothioara remarked, looking over her shoulder. “But we’re also the first people to visit not with the government. I guess they’re trying to impress us for the article.”
“Well, consider me impressed, so far.” Alister said, opening the door for the pair of them. They both went inside, with him right behind.
“So far.” Bailey echoed the final part of his sentence.
A small room with some metal chairs and a few phone booths, and a front desk that sat in front of a pair of large metal doors that looked like they wouldn’t yield to a semi truck. Sitting in their shadow was a small primly dressed old woman, who gave the three of them a smile when they stepped inside.
“Oh! You three must be the reporters.” The woman said, smiling.
“That’s us, ma’am.” Alister said, with a polite smile in return.
“Oh well we’re just so excited to have you report on our important work! I just need to see your press cards, and for you to sign-” She reached into her desk, and withdrew three stacks of paper that were about five sheets each. “-These!”
The three of them raised eyebrows. They offered their press cards up, and the other two began reading, with Bailey a bit behind. She saw the first bit of legalese, and started to get lost. She wasn’t really good at getting through dense stuff like this. She was a lot more content talking to people and getting what she needed from them, in the reporter sphere. Lucky for her, she was with two people who knew their stuff. Or knew enough to hopefully not get caught in some weird loophole or trap.
“Alright.” Alister said, finishing his a few moments before Lothioara. “Just excuses you from liability?” He asked the woman.
“And requires you to abide by on record versus off record statements to a strict degree.” The woman adds.
The three of them look to each other.
“We aren’t going to break our ethics for this story, rest assured.” Lothioara said, at last, signing. Alister begrudgingly did the same, with Bailey doing so ambivalently. They all handed their contracts back. The woman was still all smiles, as she unlocked a drawer, and put them in. She then reached for the phone on her desk.
“I’ll let the Warden know you’re ready! Have a seat.”
She gestured, and the three of them obliged, sitting down in the cold metal chairs, Lothioara taking the one anchored to the wall.
The woman at the desk began to talk on the phone, distracted. Bailey leaned in towards her friends as she did.
“…So not to jinx anything, but we’re sure this going to be safe?” She asked, looking between the two of them.
“It’s held them for going on three months, and burned almost a billion dollars from the Fed, it had better be safe.” Alister said, practically mumbling.
“We’re not going near any inmates, ideally.” Lothioara tried to soothe. “Besides, most of them aren’t even bulletproof. It isn’t exactly hard to keep them locked up. A place like this is mostly a formality. You’ll see.”
Bailey couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Maybe it was the hangover. Maybe it was the contract.
“Do you think I should have called her to-”
Bailey began, but was cut off by the woman at the desk standing up.
“The Warden is ready for you!” She called, but was nearly completely eclipsed by the titanic sound of both of the metal doors at the back starting to open. In a nearly fifteen second process, the giant bulwark parted, revealing a plain and sanitized looking concrete passage. Standing in it was a heavyset man with a thick beard and a prim uniform with the same emblem as the guards outside. He was flanked, meanwhile, by two more of those very same guards, both of them wearing helmets that covered their faces. He regarded them with a cough.
“Mr. Fisher, Miss Summerbell, Miss Taylor.” He said, to Alister, Lothioara, and then Bailey. “A pleasure to see you. My apologizes for the delay, we’re having some scheduling issues.”
He sounded unhappy. Bailey chimed in first, her hangover having faded enough to have the energy for proper conversation.
“Should we reschedule our appointment?” She asked, mostly as a formality.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Ideally, there will be no further delays. Please, come with me”
Yup. No one ever took her up on rescheduling. Never matters what it was obstructing it, nobody likes swapping stuff like that around. She almost smirked, but restrained herself to a pleasant smile. She had her groove back, she told herself, as she and the other two moved to follow the Warden and his entourage.
“Firstly, I’d like to say, we’re honored for the opportunity.” Lothioara said, also mostly as a formality.
“As you should be!” The Warden exclaimed. She’d read his name somewhere in the preliminary report, but had already forgotten it. “This is a state of the art facility. Best investment by Uncle Sam in years. Nobody gets out of here.”
Lothioara scribbled something down on her notepad.
“And how many inmates are you currently holding?” Alister asked, as they reached the end of the concrete hall, which had subtly began to slope downwards. Another door began to slowly open.
“A dozen. Though-” He paused, as one of the man next to him whispered something. He cleared his throat. “Thirteen.”
She almost questioned it, and had opened her mouth to speak, when an ear piercing scream echoed through the room ahead. Large and expansive, the roof of this chamber was a blast door to the open air that was currently closing, and far beneath, below the metal anchored bridge they were about to step out onto, was a massive pool of water, vast enough to form it’s own mist over the surface. Bailey covered her ears, searching for the source of the noise, and found it. Being lowered down by a pulley system of over four dozen chains thicker then some cranes, was a reinforced glass cage, within, a nightmarish creature.
It might have been humanoid beneath it’s other features, but she wouldn’t really call it that on face. It was surrounded by a mess of vines and weeds, which curled and coiled like a bed of snakes, and grew outwards into a wave of what seemed to be thorny tendrils, lashing out at the side of the cage. Some of these tendrils served as prehensile limbs, holding it off the floor of the cage instead of legs. Four piercing red eyes, and a mouth full of what seemed to be floral growths, that didn’t stop it from screaming. As it saw the Warden and the guests enter, it screamed again, sounding like a mix between a bird of prey and a log going through a wood chipper. Bailey kept her ears covered. Along the bridge, more of those uniformed guards pointed guns at the cage, as it lowered. The Warden shouted, almost unable to be heard:
“Shut that thing up!”
Someone on the far end slammed their hands on a button, and suddenly, the cage when silent, despite the mouth of the creature still moving. It continued to lower. The Warden smiled, and turned back around to look at them.
“As I was saying. Thirteen inmates. The first dozen were…locals, courtesy of our lovely guardian. All of them have been tried and found guilty of crimes against the public, but alas, a normal facility is unable to hold such creatures. Thanks, however, to an excellent investment by the federal government, we’ve managed to build this state of the art facility. Reinforced like a nuclear shelter, all internal power, multiple levels of security, and in the middle of a freezing Michigan lake, it’s the best prison we’ve built since Alcatraz. It’s so good that we’re getting inmates from other states of the Union, like that lovely little beastie.”
He jabbed his finger to the slowly descending vine creature.
Alister raised a hand, despite not needing to.
“How many inmates are you equipped to hold?”
The Warden scratched his chin.
“Little over two hundred, give or take a few. Ideally, we never need to get to capacity.”
Bailey spoke next, without raising her hand.
“Are the standard provisions afforded to prisoners under the constitution afforded to the incarcerated?” She decided to get right to the point.
The Warden paused, but answered without much hassle.
“Within reason, yes. The RSMA allows us to deny such things when it would compromise safety, however. After all, the Constitution only protects humans, according to the Supreme Court, and some of our guests most certainly aren’t.”
The Reasonable Safety in Mundanity Act, or RSMA, was passed by Lyndon Johnson, and allowed for discretionary acts of defense against the supernatural to supersede certain fundamental rights. She was of two minds about it. But it wasn’t particularly relevant here.
Lothioara went next-completing the rotation.
“This prison is owned in part by a private corporation, yes? Claret Incorporated Systems? How did that partnership come about?”
The Warden did seem slightly unprepared for this one-as if not expecting that to be in the conversation at all. Strange, given that it was technically publicly available. If you stretched that term, and knew who to ask, like Bailey did. The local land commissioner pulled a record for her, one that he had said was “buried on purpose”.
And yet, he kept his composure.
“Claret is the leader in the Magitecnological field, so it’s only natural to bring in some of their contractors for this project. I assure you, the primary ownership stake in this facility belongs to the Government.”
Lothioara chose to press.
“So what are they getting, if the partnership hasn’t been terminated?” She tried not to sound accusatory, her voice left with a slightly softened edge. The one thing about Lothioara, Bailey knew, was that she had a terrible poker face.
“Right to research, among other things.” The Warden said, still keeping his cool.
“Research what, the inmates?” Bailey asked, craning her head.
“That isn’t particularly relevant. Why don’t we continue the tour. We have some facilities I’d love t-“
Suddenly, just as the cage of the vine creature was about to touch the fog, another ear splitting noise would pierce the space. An alarm, that was followed by a roaring and a shaking, that even disturbed metal and concrete.
“What in blazes-“
The Warden declared, as his guards began to move to grab the three of them and him, moving towards the other end.
“Mild security breech, sir, we need to-“
“A what” Alister interrupted. Bailey’s eyes went wide. Oh. Oh no.
The sound akin to something cresting water, and the snapping of metal split the air next. She turned her head over, and saw the worst thing she could’ve. The cage holding the creature, suspended previously by chains, now hanging lopsided, the creature free to press it’s whole weight against the glass, once, twice-
The roar of gunfire cut through the space, as the cage suddenly shattered in a flurry of gunfire, which gave way to fire. The creature in the cage, instantly ignited by what must have been dozens of incendiary rounds, screamed again, and tumbled down into the fog. The guards continued to hurry them forward, across the bridge. Bailey kept her eyes in front of her, the panic slowly building in her chest. Oh god. Oh no. Oh god. If-
She couldn’t even finish the conclusive thought, before the hurrying mass of people stopped. The source of this, she realized, as she looked up, was revealed to be the Warden suddenly wrestling with one of the guards. It was strange, in a jerking back and forth sort of way. Almost like-
Lothioara dove forward, and she almost clocked why before it happened. She reached out, to try and grab the Warden and the guard, before they both spilled over the edge, falling into the fog below. Bailey scrambled backwards, but not before the entire bridge shook. She look down, and saw vines, curling around the supports.
Chaos worsened. Two of the guards began shooting widely, one of them fell backwards, blood pouring from a wound through the center of his chest. Blood dribbled onto Bailey. Lothioara stood up, and moved over to her, grabbing Alister in the process.
“We have to-“
She never got to finish her own sentence. Her leg pushed her upwards in a small jump, which, in tandem with the shaking of the platform, sent her falling into the fog. Bailey screamed, and Alister stared numbly at the trajectory of her fall. He must be in shock. Bailey was.
“So long to one half baked reporter!” A male voice crowed. One she recognized, and caused her to go numb. She looked up from her prone position, holding onto the railing for dear life.
Standing on the other end were three smug looking men in matching white prisoner’s outfits. One of them was shorter, at the head of the pack, with a stringy build, and a large burn scar on the side of his face. He was otherwise pale and sickly looking, and held a piece of the bridge like a wand. A second one had a hand outstretched, fingernails angled like he was going to claw an invisible person. He looked healthier, at least, with olive skin and a bit of muscle. The third one hand his hand on the other two men’s shoulders, and was somewhere between them in build, though he was taller. Sandy skin and darker eyes were matted by old scars.
She knew the three of them. Three of the inmates, and a set that she, Alister, Lothi, and another friend of hers had a history with. Maestro, Malevolence, and Margin had been running an extortion and drug ring through Lake Eerie, and their whole pirate ship for years, before good reporting and a good thrashing got them here. How did they get loose?
“Which next, Malevolence? I think you ought to pick.”
Malevolence spread his fingers, and pointed to the remaining guards, as they turned and shouted for them to put their hands up. Each of them suddenly had a new couple millimeter hole in their body, sending them sprawling or off the edge. She remembered his ability. Something about projecting beams from his fingers, that were small, but cut through anything. That must’ve been how they got through the chains.
They were supposed to be restrained. Five stories deep in the middle of a frozen lake. How did they-
“I’m thinking all of them at the same time.”
Malevolence eventually said. Maestro grinned.
“I think I agree. Margin?”
Margin released his hands on the two of them, and prepared to use his own ability. Something about distance or creating it, or-
Alister didn’t seem keen to let him finish, and despite the odds, grabbed a baton, and surged forward. Maestro looked at him, dispassionately, and just as Margin finished what he was doing a pace before Alister, flicking his metal rod. Like a conductor in an orchestra, the flourish was answered by Alister’s leg flipping upwards, sending him flying onto his face. Bailey lunged, trying to catch him, as suddenly, the entire bridge came apart. Metal ground and gave, as the entire structure tipped. Bailey grabbed Alister by the collar, and held on tight to a bit of metal, bracing her knee against one of few standing supports.
Maestro laughed, from his perch. She saw beneath her, that vines were creeping up towards her. That same creature moving out of the fog, slowly crawling up towards her.
“What do we think, lads. Do we let that thing eat the pair of them? Or kill them first and spare them the pain.”
Laughter from all three, in a chorus. As if it was funny.
“Ah, who am I kidding. I want to see what that thing’ll do!” Maestro declared, and flicked his wand. And like a reflex, Bailey released her grip, and began to fall. She screamed.
She was preparing for whatever the vine creature would do, when suddenly, she felt a familiar hand grab her arm.
“And here I thought finishing that bottle of Seagrams would be the worst decision you made this week.”
Her best friend remarked, as she hauled both she and Alister upwards into the sky, setting them down on the far side in the blink of an eye.
Lunarialaia, Detroit’s one and only superhero, was a tall, muscular woman, dressed in a purple bodysuit that fit to her form. She had a lily white face, that seemed flush with health, an energy in her eyes that matched a confident smile on her lips. The crescent moon emblem on her chest gleamed in the sunlight piercing through a human sized hole in the roof. She looked around, seeing three of her rogues on the other side of the chasm, then looked back to them.
“Are you two alright? I grabbed your other friend and put her someplace safe.”
Alister brushed himself off, and was about to speak, before his eyes widened, and he shouted-
“Look out!”
Lunarialaia flicked up her arm just in time to block Malevolence’s next shot, which pierced through her skin, and nearly took Bailey’s eye out, had she not ducked. She frowned, turning back towards the villains.
“You know, I’ve really had enough of you three. Can we call it a win for me and spare ourselves the time?”
Maestro grinned, and shouted back across the chasm.
“If you bleed, alien, you can die!”
She sighed.
“Hard way it is.” She said, diving forward, not before shouting back-
“Get out of here!”
Bailey and Alister began to run-Alister lingering for a moment longer, staring at Lunarialaia, before eventually joining her at a sprint. The last trace Bailey saw was seeing her get grasped by vines, but not before firing a white hot burst of light from her eyes towards the trio on the other side.
Eventually moving out of sight of the brawl, they were only stopped by noticing something truly terrifying in it of itself. The two metal doors that they had initially gone through were gone, replaced with molten slag that seemed to still be bubbling. The waiting room was a charred husk. There was no sign of the receptionist.
Alister groaned, and whispered:
“Flamma.”
She whispered back
“Fuck.”
The two of them stepped through the doorway carefully, as to not burn themselves, and out towards the outside. And discovered the situation to be far worse then they could have previously imagined.
Alister’s car was in pieces, the metal bits and pieces that were left amounting to a tape deck and some hubcaps. The missing pieces weren’t far, however. Four people stood near to the edge, in cover from any of the watch towers but one-and that one, conveniently, was unmanned.
Flamma, the flaming villain that had been one of her best friend’s first encounters in Detroit, wore sunglasses and her prison uniform, currently smoking a cigarette that glowed with blue fire. She was a very fit and very attractive looking woman that could have easily been on the cover of a magazine, with platinum blonde hair and pronounced abbs. She was currently being tended to by a smaller, curled up creature that Bailey didn’t recognize right away. They were about three feet tall, with armor plates on their back, and a pair of antennae jutting out of their head. A pair of curled hands affixed a harness to Flamma’s back. Similar harnesses were affixed to the others present-a plain looking man with glasses and what seemed to be a death grip on a kitchen knife, and a woman in a plain mask, spiked armor, and an axe over her shoulder.
The two of them stopped, both independently hoping they wouldn’t be noticed. No such luck, as the woman with the axe, turned. What was her name again? Something stupid…Carnivore? Carnivire?
“Carnifex.” Alister said, which caused the other villains to turn. He then pointed at the stubby creature. “Manis.” He then pointed at the man. “Maurice Martin.” And finally…”Flamma.”
“You remember me, Cronkite?” Flamma pretended to swoon. “I’m flattered.”
“Hard not to remember the person who burned down half the city.” He said, flatly.
Carnifex, who Bailey was just now remembering had been a recent capture that Lunarialaia had talked about being a pain during their party the night prior, grunted.
“Not here to chit chat. We’ve got places to be.”
“Let me roast them first!” Flamma declared, pointing her palm their way. Bailey froze. “I want even with him for putting my name in the paper.”
“Wait-” Bailey said. “We’re not-we’re not going to-“
She realized how out of her depth she was. What could she do, besides beg for mercy? Her best friend was tied up, and even if she heard her-
“The four of you can go.” Alister says. “Least you can do for taking apart my car.”
Somehow, he always stayed cool under the pressure. The way he spoke, it was like he had actual authority over these murderers and thieves.
For a moment, stressful silence. Then Carnifex laughed. It was a strange noise. Stilted and spliced with what almost sounded like more then one voice.
“Five, actually. Mezeract, come.”
Bailey almost said something, a protest, a plea. But suddenly, she felt a jolt, like touching a live wire, but without the burn. Her legs crumbled beneath her, and she and Alister both hit the pavement, though she barely registered the pain.
The last thing she saw was the harnesses of the four of them suddenly form into what seemed to be wings, each forged from the metal pieces of Alister’s old car. Each of them jumped off the edge, and soared off towards the city.
This sucked, Bailey thought, as she drifted off into unconsciousness.
