Chapter 2

The fort was in chaos as dawn broke into the red sky. White-Coats scuttled through the corridors, dragging charts and chains and trackers and keys behind them, towards the iron doors. They shook the metal gates, banging and scrapping at it, like panicked dogs.

Gasping and grabbing for air, the panic subsided long enough for rational thinking to weed their way though their white hoods into their soft, mindless brains. With an artist's precision, White-402 began to wield through the frame, calmly and carefully, as the rest of the herd held their breaths for dear life. The door dropped with a deafening thud. Every one of the White Coats stared at the empty room with exasperation. The chains lay dead on the cold floor. The iron beds, stripped of their bedding, lay cold and un-slept in. White-402 began biting at his finger nails.

"He's going to take my head for this....he'll take my head, and his head, and our entire departments heads.." his eyes continued scanning the bare room, "Then he'll stick 'em on wooden stakes and display them in the market place, and keep our bodies as trophies!!" Panic spread through him., his body trembled. He held his hands together in a tight knot. Whispers began to fly amongst the rest of the White Coats.

"It's only time before He finds out.....the later the better, ...."  402 searched desperately for a solution, "they're just kids, we could track them down, weed them out, and have them back by sun down, and He'll be none the wiser." 402 breathed a sigh of relief, that proved to be short lived.

"Thud....thud....thud...." His slow footsteps beat into the tiled floor. The smell of champagne and aftershave loomed in the air. White 402 fell to the floor. "I'm dead...."he thought, fiddling with his fingers, his eyes trained to the floor.

His steps drew closer. 402 shut his eyelids tightly against each other. The sound of steps stopped. The silence rang through the corridor.

"And  what do we have here?" His rich, derisive voice broke through the ear splitting silence. 402 Opened his eyes. He found himself staring at a pair of neatly polished black leather boots. His heart stopped, as his eyes moved from the glossy boots to the dark silver belt around the red suited shirt in a black jacket, up to the chain around his thin pale neck, to the sardonic smile playing upon his lips, his perfectly arched nose, up utill his eyes, thoes soul-sucking eyes. He turned his gaze away. Those dark red eyes, that gleamed burning coal.

"Knox." His voice trembled.

 

The End

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