As I sit silently on the curb, listening to the falling rain. It was dark, as I recalled todays events. I remember this morning particularly well. In any case, I would. But I do have a particular image in my head nevertheless, and it won't leave. I remember waking to a red light, in the uncomfortable bed issued to every inmate. I remember the shrill, high toned alarm that was designed to hurt your ears. All us inmates are used to pain, so I wasn't at all caught up in the pain. But what I was caught up in, was the three men standing before me.
"You have debt to us, Destin," One had yelled over the screaming alarms. Didn't know which, they were all silhouettes against my eyes. I didn't have time to speak as one lunged at me. I immediately pushed myself at that one, tripping. I didn't have to check as I approached another. I knew the tripped man was going to find his nose against the steel bedframe. The second man threw a wide punch, which I easily ducked under. I leaned fowards, driving my knee into his ribs. I heard a few cracks, then that man fell. To the last now, I reminded myself. I now turned to the last man who gave me a moments glance, before running away. The cell door was open. I walked to it. The large pad lock was untouched. So they had the keys. I looked to the dark hall now. Each red flash had given me another image of the anarchism taking place. I began a slow pace down the wrecked halls. One of the inmates was on top of a peacemaker. He looked at me after his job was done. I kept my pace steady, continuing this calm guise. The inmate took a sprint at me. Just as he would reach me, he lept to tackle me. I brought my knee up, successfully diverting his moment upward, where I grabbed his head and launched him face first into the concrete. Then I continued my pace to the entrance of this facility. That's where I realized I forgot my mask and other things. I now sprinted to the confiscation room. Inside, I found a man huddled in the corner.
"Where is my mask?" I asked him. I was no criminal, just someone framed for murder. I didn't kill innocent lives. On purpose, that is. The man meekly pointed to a box marked "Destin". I ripped it open, finding my mask, along with all my other weapons. I looked at the man after dawning my mask. Then I walked out of the door, just as a flaming bottle was thrown. The entrance was launched into flames. Stairs would have to be my exit. So I ran to the stairs. I climbed them four at a time. I reached the door, slamming it open to reveal the roof. And just as I thought I was free. There was a helicopter, fixed with large machine guns. It opened fire. I rolled left, behind an AC unit. The bullets ricocheted everywhere. I found my EMP emitter and aimed it to the helicopter. Fired. And watched as it ceased to fly, landing with a little too much hanging over the building. It flipped, falling over the edge. I put the device away. I winced as the ground shook. I then ran the the edge, lept across, then kept running. I found a good hiding place in an alley afterward. I changed into a guise then. It was of a business man. I then found me way to a favorite place of mine. The sun had risen to it's fullest by now. The favorite spot of my age was a street curb that sat, overlooking the sea. I had sat for about 10 minutes before another business man, similarly dressed, had sat beside me, "Hello Destin." He had said.
"Hello, Zero." I had replied. He asked me why I was out early. I told him that the facility had reach a state of anarchism. He asked me to describe the events. I obliged, and began explaining in a monologue voice.
I begin, "I remember this morning particularly well."