The Prisoner

[Britwitch]

Closed for myself and Ravenloft

It felt like there was a storm coming, and in a way there was.

Heavy clouds hung over the city, adding to the heat in the streets below. In amongst the traffic one car zipped smoothly between the lines of cars. Not speeding as such but clearly in a hurry to get to wherever they were going. The car's windows were down and the warm breeze was sending the long dark hair of the driver dancing merrily behind her. Her expression, however, was anything but merry. What would have been a pretty face was wearing an expression of quiet fury. Her mouth forced into an angry line and her eyes narrowed. Reaching an intersection she didn't even attempt to brake as the lights changed. Tyres squealing slightly as she took a corner and came to an abrupt halt. Closing the window and leaving the car parked in the street, she strode away with a plain envelope in her hand and nothing more.

She wasn't dressed for the heat, that marking her out from the crowd as much as anything. A tailored blouse with an equally well fitting skirt that skimmed her knees, heels that were fractionally higher than would perhaps be considered sensible making her hips sway back and forth at a determined pace. On her chest, an I.D. badge bounced with each step.

Into a building that from the outside didn't look much different from the others on the street, she stepped into the lift that was located just inside the door. There was nothing but that lift. No way out. Pressing her thumb to the pad inside, the doors smoothly shut and the elevator began to rise.
When it came to a stop it opened to reveal a large lobby behind which was a long corridor, visible through a set of glass doors. At a desk before the doors sat a pretty blonde.

She didn't pause at the desk, ignoring the plaintive pleas of the receptionist, she pushed through the glass doors and stormed down the corridor, half hearing the blonde's desperate conversation over the phone as the doors swung back and forth behind her.

"No...wouldn't listen....don't know...get security?"

She smiled, slightly, as she reached the door at the very end of the corridor, certain the man whose office lay on the other side would be the man the receptionist had called. She knocked and opened the door without pause, smiling a little more as she saw him replacing the phone's handset as she did so. He looked surprised but not worried.

"I'm gone." She said bluntly as she crossed the room and dropped the envelope onto the desk before him. The man behind it looking from her face to the envelope and back again.

"Now, now, number 6, why don't you sit down and we can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm finished and that's my letter of resignation. I have nothing here I want to take with me, all my personal effects have already gone home." One carefully manicured nail, not too long but definitely feminine, tapped the envelope. "I've signed a disclosure form, nothing from the agency has left this building with me. No sensitive material. Nothing. Not even a stapler."

"If you feel you need to take a break, I'm sure we can work out some leave-"

"No. I need to leave. Period. I won't bother the agency as long as the agency doesn't bother me."

"It's not as simple as that and you know it, number 6."

"Stop calling me that," she said quietly. "I'm not number 6 any more. Find another agent to do your dirty work for you."

"Don't do this, number 6!" he called after her as she turned on her heel and stormed back out of his office, not seeing that he was already reaching for his phone before the door had shut again behind her.

Soon enough she was home. Her little apartment. She'd already packed everything she wanted to take with her and put everything else she cared about into storage so it was pretty empty but it felt so good to know when she next walked out of the door, she wouldn't be coming back. She had a one way ticket, in a false name, to the West coast, a few more flights would follow that. A few more changes of name, and then out to a small string of tropical islands in the Pacific where she could finally relax, far from the reach of the Agency.

Glancing at her phone and trying to work out whether there was time to shower or if she should just go straight to the airport already, she realised something was wrong. There was a quiet hissing sound, like the slow sad sound of a deflating balloon. Frowning she glanced around and spotted the almost invisible mist drifting down from the air conditioning unit in the corner.

"Shit!" She quickly wrapped her arm over her nose and mouth as she dashed towards her door but it wouldn't open. She tugged and tugged, fumbling with the latch which she knew she hadn't dropped when she'd come home.
Her vision was soon swimming and the light began to fade.
“You can’t…” she began to no one in particular before she crumpled onto the floor, her words left hanging in the air. She didn’t move when the front door opened. She didn’t move when they lifted her from the floor and carried away from her home and away from her life.

*~*~*~*~*​

When she awoke the first thing she was aware of was that her head was killing her and that her throat felt as if it was full of dust. With a groan she rolled over and all but fell out of the bed. The shock making her jerk awake far quicker than she would have liked.

“Fucks’ sake…” she muttered, irritated, running a slightly shaky hand through her hair and over her face. She felt as if she was on the wrong end of an all-night party when she knew she had done nothing of the sort. As much as she’d been looking forward to quitting she had no celebrations planned, no drink with friends to mark the end of her life as a number. She just gone home and

Home.

Frowning she looked around quickly, making her already swimming head feel a hundred times worse. The room, the furniture, none of it seemed familiar.
Swinging her legs down to the floor she sat on the edge of the bed for several long moments, eyes closed as she tried to work out what had happened.

She’d quit. She’d come home. And then…

A deeper frown.

That quiet hiss.

“Gas,” she muttered furiously as her bright blue eyes flew open at the realisation. “Bastards!” Stalking over to one of the large windows she saw she was no longer in the city. Rolling hills, turning into mountains in the distance, there was water just out of her sight. A lake, or the sea perhaps.

Turning sharply on her heel she scanned the rest of the room, or rather the suite of rooms. It looked like she was in the bedroom of a larger apartment. Her clothes were unchanged from the night before, assuming she'd only been out for a number of hours and not days. Stalking out of the bedroom she entered the main room of the apartment, she needed a glass of water and to think.

"Good morning," the voice came from somewhere behind her as she reached the kitchenette and had just turned on the tap. Whirling on the balls of her feet she raised her hands defensively. She saw the speaker instantly. He was sat in a chair to the right of the doorway she had just walked through. Smartly dressed and well presented, he was fairly handsome and she guessed of a similar age to herself.

"Who are you?" she demanded, keeping her eyes on him at all times while her hands began tugging at drawers and cabinets trying to find a possible weapon. "And where the hell am I?"

"There's no need to be defensive," he replied, his expression remaining blank. "You're in The Village."

"The Village," she repeated frostily. "And what's that when it's at home?"

"Here."

Failing to find anything straight away that she could use to defend herself she looked carefully at the man before her. If he was there to hurt her, he could have done it while she slept.

"Are you always this helpful?" she threw back, turning away to fill a tumbler with water and gulped it down before refilling it and turning back to him.

"I answered your question," came the flat response. "You're in The Village and The Village is here. I don't know how else I can make it more clear."

"Alright, Dr Seuss, let it go. I'm in The Village. I get it." She sipped the water before almost dropping the glass when his phone rang loudly. Cursing her own nerves she watched as he withdrew it from his pocket and took the call. "God damned Agency." She muttered furious before listening to him as he spoke.

"Yes, she's awake. Of course. Right away." The phone was slipped back inside the jacket of his suit and he rose to his feet. "You will come with me now, number 6."

"I'm not number 6 any more. I'm-"

"You will come with me now, number 6. Number 2 will see you now." He moved to the front door which opened without him touching it.

"And if I don't want to go?"

"You will come with me now, number 6." His tone was suddenly considerably colder as he extended a hand towards her, inviting her to step through the now open door. "Number 2 does not like to be kept waiting."

"Fine," the glass was put down less than carefully onto the nearest work top and she followed him to the door, "maybe this number 2 will have some answers for me."

 

[Ravenloft]

"Questions are a burden to others. Answers, a prison to oneself." Her guest stated, as if it as a programed response. "Come, the green dome, you can't miss it." He added, stepping out onto the front porch of her apartment and pointing across the way.

Dominating the rest of the village, sprawling across a hill top, stood the green dome which he was referring to. "Shall I call you a taxi?" He asked, ready to lift his hand to flag one down. "Or will you walk?" He asked, politely. "Its not far." He pointed out.

Number six declined the ride with a wave of her hand.

"Suit yourself." Her guest and now, her guide said, starting off down a set of steps and onto a cobble stone foot path through some well groomed shrubbery.

"This is the entrance to the nature walk you can enjoy at your leisure." He pointed out as they passed by an adjoining path marked by a pair of stone busts of the Queen set atop marble pillars.

As they passed by the sound of scraping stone caught Number six's ear. Glancing back, the pitiless eyes of the stone Queen were on her.

The path burst open into a paved street with market stalls and brick and mortar shops. "And this is market street, all your needs can be filled here, there's a butcher, a barber, convenience and grocer, Chemist...." He pointed each business out as they passed.

"You'll find all you need, or want here. They really do take good care of us, don't they?" He mused with a smile as he trotted along. "They even have a theater group, if you would be interested in joining, I could put in a good word for you."

Past the couple blocks of businesses they started to walk by a number of poorly hidden metal hatches. Her guide was oddly silent about what they might be as he walked on.

Only a few minutes later they were climbing the steps to the green dome.

Stepping up to the door, her guide moved aside and let her pass.

"There now, I've delivered you to Number Two. If there's nothing else to be done, I will be going now...." He turned and started back down the steps, pausing half way down before turning back toward her..

He made the symbol of a monocle with his fingers and lifted it over his right eye before casting his hand out in her direction. "Be seeing you!" He said cheerfully and turned trot away, leaving her by herself at the door.

 

[Britwitch]

She followed him wordlessly, eyes flitting from landmark to landmark trying to find a clue as to where she actually was.
His spiel made it sound more like a holiday camp and less like a prison, which she was pretty sure it truly was. It was all too idyllic. All too pretty.
Gardens and drama groups, really?

She didn't see anyone else either which was more than a little strange. Not a single person inside the plethora of shops the stranger pointed out. It felt as if she'd wandered onto a movie set between takes. Everything poised and ready to go the moment the director yelled 'action'.

The steps leading up the hill were a steep enough climb to make her breathing become a little heavier but nothing she couldn't handle. She was hoping that when they reached the top she'd have a chance to look around at the view before they went into the Dome.

Her guide left her there and she took the chance to turn slowly on her heel and survey the scenery. The hills surrounding the Village grew into mountains but there was nothing beyond that that she could see. The water she had seen from her window looked like the sea, it was large enough, but she reasoned it could also be a lake. There were huge lakes all over the world, this could be one of those. The weather felt warm, was she even close to home any more?

She turned back to the door she had been deposited in front of, chewing her lip thoughtfully. As she saw it, she had two choices. Go inside and see if this Number 2 had anything resembling an explanation for her. Or run.

As she sped down the hill, heading vaguely towards the water, she was fairly certain she had made the wrong choice but she had to try. It wasn't as if the place was crawling with guards, at least not obviously. Her feet flew over the grass covering the hill and she skidded to a halt at the bottom, ducking behind a low wall while she caught her breath and tried to think where to go next.

Peering over the top of the brickwork the street beyond it looked to be as deserted as the rest of the town had been. She hadn't survived as long as she had without being fully aware of the fact that things were rarely as they seemed. Her hand reached instinctively to where in days gone by she'd have had her concealed weapon, cursing when she realised that she had nothing with her but her wits.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up and set off at a gentle jog down the street. No sense sprinting and drawing attention to herself. Plus if someone did indeed give chase, she'd need her energy. Who knew how long she might be running for?

 

[Ravenloft]

Deep within the dome there was a surveillance room, with men monitoring the island using cutting edge technology. The security director, a bald man with pinched lips stood over them, watching Number Six flee.

"She's running sir." One of his men reported.

"I can see that." The Director replied with an unconcerned sigh.

"Should we send the rovers after her?" Another man asked.

"Not yet, let her run herself down a bit. I want to see how far she can get on her own. If she makes it to the shore, THEN send the rovers." The director ordered, turning around as a large view screen came to life, playing a video feed of her jogging through the village.

The director's cell rang as he watched the screen, bemused. "Yes? Number two? Ah, sorry sir, but your appointment with Six will be slightly delayed. She's a runner sir. No, she won't escape, I can assure you of that. Want to watch the feed? Sure, I can patch you in. No problem. Enjoy the show! Hah! Yes, she is quite athletic at that! Whats that? Dispatch a jeep when she makes it to the flats? Yes sir, as you wish. We had intended to send the rovers when... Yes sir, I see, sir. No Rovers unless she has a legitimate chance of escape, understood sir."

The director hung up, mildly annoyed that his order had been overturned. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, not watching the view screen for a moment. "Um, sir, she's out of the village, heading through a copse of trees, for the sand flats."

"Impressive." The Director stated, surprised that she had made it so far in just a jog. "Order a jeep dispatched." He sighed, turning away from the screen to go and sit down.

The jeep peeled out of an underground garage, springing from an outlet hidden in the rocky surface of a mountain. The rocky surface, nearly three foot thick, a mechanical hatch that lifted, then closed, leaving nearly no sign that it had ever opened.

The driver and passenger spotted Six and she heard them rev the engine, giving her chase. "There she is!" The passenger shouted, pointing with a billy club. "Drive her down!" He yelled, swinging his club like a bat.