What really made the prison was the stink. It was the stink of cigarettes stifled by choking, dying lungs. It was the overwhelming stench of vomit and feces brought about by a diet of tainted water and constant beatings. Mixed in was the bright smell of blood from the bloody lines torn across the tortured souls backs'. Blood that ran freely from the bodies of men who threw themselves against the unyielding iron bars again and again and again, until they simply fell over and let their broken, exhausted bodies bleed to death.
Cadry, The Master of All the World, liked their screams the most of all. They were not the terrified, annoyingly loud screams of the new arrivals, who had hope that someone, anyone, would come and save them. They were quiet screams, murmurs really, that showed the prisoner had descended into a level of absolute despair. They concocted fantasies of escaping from their God-King's omnipotent gaze, but knew down deep that the only escape was the slow bleed to death.
Cadry, The Master of All the World, was not concerned with the normal prisoners at that exact moment. Not that he didn't enjoy hearing the pleas for forgiveness, or for nonexistent mercy. At that moment he had bigger fish to fry.
He walked across the hay that was put down to absorb the prisoner's blood and piss to a 100% steel vault. Ten mutants of varying sizes guarded the door, eying it like someone might eye a unlit stick of dynamite in the middle of a fire.
God-King Cadry practically pranced as he came up to the door however. “Is the prisoner ready to have the chat?” he said cheerfully, in an almost childlike way, to the guards. He teeth, pearly white and filed into deadly points, had an unexpected glint in the dark, dusty atmosphere of the prison. “It would be so sad if he had to go without food for three more days. Open it up.”
At his command the vault swung open, revealing only a room of inky blackness. God-King Cadry took out a small lighter and slowly tiptoed in. The door closed behind him, and the noise of the prison was cut short.
The only thing the God-King could perceive was a breathless voice coming from a distance away.
“Brother did you bring me... sliver? Brother did you bring me... gold? Or did you come to see me... hanging from the gallows' hold?”
“None of the above,” Cadry grinned. “I came to see if you were more into having that little chat we talked about huh?”
“If a tree falls in the forest, and nobody hears it, does it make a noise?”
“Course it does! Now enough of your usual crap! Tell me the good stuff!”
“What happens when an unstoppable force hits an immovable object?”
“Yeah, yeah a hell of a lot of collateral damage! Move on!”
“He comes, across seas, across oceans, through deserts and terrors of the nightmare hours! Unstoppable, immovable!”
“This is new, keep going.”
“With his arrival comes the new end, the time of reckoning for all man! Behold! The end is neigh!”
“A little to late for the end isn't it little buddy? This guy, is he like you?”
“He is an ant capable of crushing cities in his wake, of leaving civilization in ruins! But he will never be more than an ant!”
“I'll take that as a yes. Does this ant have a name?”
“No, so I will invent one. I call him The Wheeler.”
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