[ WP ] You wake up in a maximum security prison , no idea why or where . Three weeks have passed and all inmates are too scared or refuse to talk to you , the guards also say nothing .

He sat on a stone slab, surrounded on three sides by stone walls, separated from the other inmate ’ s cells by thick iron bars. The ceiling and floor were made of the same bleak grey stone, and there was just enough room for him to stand up straight. His considerable height and bulk made this place quite cramped. He ’ d woken up a short while ago, to sunlight streaming in through a small crack in the wall opposite of the bars. He scratched a mark onto the wall with a small rock. Twenty one days. Three weeks in this place. Out of habit, he peeked through the crack in the wall. He saw nothing beyond but blue skies and some clouds. A bit of wind chilled him as it whistled through the gap. Wherever this was, it was high up. 
 
 His name was Aiden Kell. That much he remembered. Before that… I ’ d had a few drinks. Got into a fight. Figured it was best to ride out of town before sunset. I made it out past the gate and then… Kell ’ s head hurt. Couldn ’ t remember much. He felt around with his fingers, took a look at the results. Still a big sore spot back there, but at least the bleeding had stopped. 
 
 First part of the day was breakfast. A ghostly apparation that was vaguely shaped like a human moved from cell to cell and set a bowl of bread and fruit in front of each, just far enough away that one prisoner couldn ’ t grab the food of another. It went away, then made another round with jugs of water. For a prison, this place kept it ’ s populace well fed. Aiden had given up trying to talk to the spirit-thing after the first few days. It didn ’ t seem to have a mouth, or be capable of doing anything other than it ’ s pattern. Some kind of magic, he figured. 
 
 After that, it was a matter of waiting until free time when the bars disappeared. Some days they didn ’ t. At first, Aiden tried to talk to the other prisoners across from him. He ’ d gotten nowhere with that as well. He ’ d mentally named them Slick, Big Joe, and Crawly, as they refused to introduce themselves, or speak at all. Whenever he spoke to Slick, he ’ d crawl back to the furtherest corner away from Aiden and start gibbering and pawing at the wall. Big Joe… wasn ’ t all there. He ate his food, sat on the bed. Didn ’ t respond to much else. He didn ’ t even go wander around during free time. Crawly was the most vocal of them all. Any attempt at communication, or eye contact caused Crawly to curl up under his bed and go into a crying fit. 
 
 Lot of waiting in prison. Aiden did his best not to think about why he was here. What he ’ d done. He ’ d tried plenty already, and all it did was make his head ache harder. He laid down on his bed after he finished his food, and waited till free time. 
 
 Aiden felt his ears pop, he looked up to find the bars to his cell, and those of the other inmates had disappeared. Free time as usual. He didn ’ t have long. He got up and bounded into the hall. Ran back and forth, looking for new faces. Anyone who might talk to him. He hopes were dashed as he realized that the population in this wing had been reduced to just him, Big Joe, Crawly, and Slick. He ignored them and headed for the common room. 
 
 The common room was where all the wings of the prison emptied out. A big green field open to the sky with a few trees and picnic tables. It was colder than fuck out here, but it was better than staying put in the cells. Plus, the tables always had fine food on them. Aiden made sure he got out there among the first. Nobody challenged him as he took a seat at one of the tables, and got to work on eating his fill. 
 
 The other tables… not so much. The inmates always fought. Slick slid through the struggle and made away with some fruit. Aiden knew he ’ d be sneaking some of that back to Big Joe. He ’ d seen it happen every day. Twenty one days. Crawly took up whatever scraps got knocked his way in the scuffle. 
 
 Today it looked like things were going to get too out of hand. Someone had managed to find or make a stone knife, and applied it to another inmate ’ s stomach. Aiden watched and ate his food from his empty table as the guards, looking pristine and angelic in their pure white robes, floated down from above the walls of the commons. He decided maybe it was time to talk to one of them. He grabbed an empty wooden mug, and strode over to the nearest one quick enough to block his way. The rest moved in toward the brawling inmates to break them up. 
 
 “ Hey. What am I in for? ”, Aiden said. 
 
 The guard just stared back blankly, sun reflecting off of his shaved head. After a few seconds he shook his head, as though he didn ’ t know. Or maybe couldn ’ t say. 
 
 “ Well, I ’ m not too partial to being here. Let me go? ” 
 
 The guard shrugged, and tried to move around Aiden. Aiden decided it was time for action, and grabbed the guard on the shoulder with one hand, brought the mug down on his head with the other hand. “ Tell me why I ’ m here! ”, Aiden shouted. 
 
 There was no other noise in the yard. Everyone else had stopped, gone silent. All of them, inmates and guards, were staring at Aiden. Some looked scared, others, Aiden couldn ’ t tell. The guards all had the same expression. Inhuman apathy. The guard, whom Aiden held now by the robe in one hand looked down and away, blood streaming from a gash above his eye where the mug had connected. He spoke. “ They ’ ll kill me for this. I ’ ve already failed. Please, have mercy, finish me. ” 
 
 “ What the fuck? No. Show me the way out of here. ”, Aiden said. 
 
 “ There are only two ways ”, the guard whispered, “ death, or The Pits. That door. Go before the Warden comes. ” 
 
 Aiden saw a door along the wall, where there had not been a door before. It was made of the same stone as the wall, other than it ’ s featureless wooden pull ring. The commons yard still remained eerily silent. Nobody reacted, as though the guard hadn ’ t spoken at all. Aiden dropped the guard and strode over to the inmate with the stone knife. He stuck out his open palm. “ Give me that. ” The inmate dropped it in Aiden ’ s hand and ran away, shaking with terror. 
 
 Aiden opened the door, looked back. He saw Slick, and waved. Then he turned and strode across the threshold, and the door slammed shut behind him. In the dim torchlight, he saw a crumbling spiral staircase that ran around the edge of a wide, wide pit, and descended into inky blackness. Aiden pushed a small rock over the edge with the toe of his boot. He didn ’ t hear it hit bottom. He gripped the knife in one hand, and placed his other hand on the wall to steady himself and began his descent into The Pit. As he went deeper, inhuman sounds, screams, undulating cries, screeching and scratching, assailed his ears. It sounded like nothing he ’ d ever heard before. Above him, light streamed in as someone else opened the door. “ Aiden! Go back to your cell. This is the Warden. ” 
 
 A terrible creature the Warden was. His skin was green scales, he sported two extra arms, and had great tusks, like a boar. He held Slick, who ’ s struggles to escape the Warden ’ s grasp where in vain. “ Aiden! Obey me! ”, The Warden cried, as he hurled Slick down into the pit. He screamed as he flew down past Aiden. Aiden gripped his knife and kept moving down the stairs as the Warden plodded down the stairs in a leisurely and confident pursuit. He would have to decide soon whether to throw caution to the wind and run down the stairs, or turn and face the Warden.
