Adnai

I don't know what brought me to this prison, but I was drawn there. Like there was something wrong with it and I had to fix it. I was wandering through the prison, having a hard time concentrating. Some people seemed to be glowing, while other people were looking fine. And then the prison itself would change, morphing into some kind of rusty, blood-smeared, hellish place.

The prison itself was ruled by mean guards who were on power trips. They did violent and horrible things to the prisoners before my very eyes. Cells were overcrowded, sometimes packing more than forty cots into one of the largest rooms.

I was passing by the cell belonging to a boy and a girl when I noticed they. . . weren't glowing like some of the other people in the prison. So I asked them what they had done to get in there. Both of them responded, "nothing. The damn police just locked us up. We haven't done anything." Before I could continue anything, I found a guard approaching me. I had been digging too deeply into the prison's methods, and they probably wanted to kick me out. I dashed out into the next room, where I watched the door slam shut by itself and lock me into a cell.

The world flickered back and forth between the horrific one I'd seen and the normal prison.

Except this time there was a man standing in front of me, holding a sword. He spoke, but without actually using words.

I was scared, but not fearing, of this man. I couldn't see his face, it was wrapped by scarves and his body was covered by a thick jacket. When he spoke, his voice seemed to be both in my mind and echoing in the air around me - like he didn't really have a voice to speak with at all.

He told me he had been waiting for someone like me for a long time. Somebody he could use to punish the sin occuring in this awful prison. He was standing in front of me, then, and handing me a sword I had not known he had been holding.

He disappeared then, and power punched through me. I adopted his earlier style of dress, with the scarves covering all of my face except for a slit for my eyes and mouth, and the heavy jacket making my movements a little slow.

I was scared of such sudden change. And even more scared when the prison morphed back and I found myself holding a sword in a room full of guards. I ran - or tried to.

The man who'd given me all of these things told me that I couldn't run away. I had to help him stop the sin. I frantically told him I wanted no part in it, I wasn't going to kill people just to stop more crimes from happening. Two wrongs didn't make a right. He was quiet, then, and he asked just as quielty, "So you refuse, then?"

"Yes!"

Everything whirled away, and I found myself disoriented on top of a set of stairs.

His voice was eveywhere.

"I cannot wield a weapon that would attack the hand that holds it. You are in my realm now, and here, I will fix you."

I had no other choice. I began to descend the stairs.