As Mortuus sat alone in the cell, his mind wandered into the incomprehensible places with his fractured psyche. Thoughts about how long he'd be staying and if he'd ever manage to get out seemed to fill his head, and yet these thoughts were met with happy feelings mixed with a sense of hopelessness. It didn't seem likely as the minutes ticked by with no end in sight.
Officer Lamb stepped into view. "You should probably get comfortable, Mortuus." He said as he was wiping his gun with a grease-covered rag. "The charges are stacked against you."
Mortuus leaned against the bars of the cell, his hands gripping them tightly as he spoke. "I'm not a criminal, and you know that, Lamb," Mortuus said through gritted teeth, which Officer Lamb couldn't see behind Mortuus's bandages.
Lamb shrugged, "Doesn't really matter." He looked at the handgun for any marks before putting it in the holster on his hip. "Being that you're a dead man, we don't need a trial to jail you for aiding a fugitive."
Mortuus sighed, "Jackson was an innocent man, Lamb." Mortuus leaned against the wall of the cell as he spoke, his eyes focused more on the ceiling than on the officer. Despite this, he had a clear view of Officer Lamb due to his 360-degree vision. It was really annoying sometimes having Angel Eyes'.
Officer Lamb looked at Mortuus with a stern expression, "If Mr. Knight didn't kill them, then who did, Mortuus? Huh?" Lamb asked with an aggressive tone. He clearly didn't think Mortuus was being honest with him. He was outraged that Mortuus wouldn't just admit to Jackson being a guilty man.
Mortuus looked at the ground with shame, knowing that his response wasn't going to be accepted. "Kassandra Campbell." He sighed. Lamb observed Mortuus's actions with suspicion. "She's been dead since 93', Morty." He spat. Mortuus had to admit that his explanation did sound pretty stupid from the point of view of someone who didn't know much about Project MORTUUS.
Mortuus nodded, "I can't explain why it is, but I'm not lying." He replied. Officer Lamb didn't believe his story despite it being authentic. It sounded like the ravings of a madman, and Mortuus was well aware.
Mortuus sat down on the creaky jail bed and held his head in his hands. There was no way of convincing Officer Lamb that Jackson Knight was innocent. Mortuus sighed, "How can you convict a man who's mentally nine years old?"
Officer Lamb looked at Mortuus with a confused expression, "Mr. Knight is forty-seven, Mortuus." He leaned against the wall, still eyeing Mortuus, "He's definitely not what you've been saying." It didn't make sense to him that a forty-seven-year-old man could have the same mental faculties as a nine-year-old.
This response seemed to really piss Mortuus off, but as usual, he remained calm and relaxed on the outside. "In Dr. Mallard's own words, he isn't forty-seven mentally." Mortuus seethed with silent rage, which wasn't very much anger.
Officer Lamb brushed his anger aside. "Whatever you want to claim, he's still going to be serving time when we detain him," he added with a scoff. It was clear that he was tired of arguing with Mortuus.
Mortuus sighed, "What if I take his place? I'll serve out his sentence." Officer Lamb rubbed his chin, thinking about Mortuus's deal. For a while, he was silent as he stroked his mustache and carefully considered Mortuus's words.
"Now, why would you do that?" he questioned Mortuus. It didn't make any sense to Officer Lamb that Mortuus was willing to be imprisoned for another's crimes. "Because I'll stay locked up for centuries if it means that an innocent person may walk freely," Mortuus responded to his confusion.
Officer Lamb glared at Mortuus, his thick eyebrows raised in suspicion, "You're very determined to convince me of this, aren't you?" He spoke with a stern and commanding voice. He pulled a key from his pocket and put it in the cell door. With a loud and echoing click, the door unlocked. It creaked open loudly, obviously needing to be oiled.
"I'm going to trust you, Mortuus," he said, holding a tazer to Mortuus's face. Don't make me regret it." He added in a stern tone and clicked the button to make it spark, just to show him that he was serious.
Mortuus nodded and stepped out of the cell. He wasn't sure why, but his words had finally managed to convince the stubborn officer.
"Where's my revolver?" Mortuus asked, deciding it was best not to question the officer's reason for letting him out. Officer Lamb thought for a minute, "1947 revolver with a copper coating and ivory handle, correct?"
Mortuus nodded, "Yes, that's my revolver." Officer Lamb motioned towards a table, where the gun was sitting beside a flask, cannabis pen, and pocket knife. "You know, it's strange that Dr. Mallard also purchased and registered the same make and model just a few months before his death." Officer Lamb inquired indirectly.
Mortuus walked over and collected his things. He was more silent than usual. He didn't feel like talking, and he especially didn't want to talk about Mordecai's death. He only responded with a short 'hmm' and a shrug.
As soon as Mortuus collected his things, he turned down the hall and pushed open the front doors. He stepped out into the crisp fall day that awaited him.
It was a lovely day, but maybe it only seemed that way because he'd been in that cramped cell for hours. It felt good to be able to stretch his legs.
He walked along the street, enjoying the sun on his bandages. He still felt anxious, but it was small enough that he could ignore it.
He continued walking until he reached the bunker. Mortuus stood in front of it for a minute before going inside. He pushed the blue tarp door aside and stepped in.
He walked to the main room of the bunker, the place where he awoke. He flicked on the overhead lights. The silver cryo-chamber with Kassandra seemed to stand out in the room. It was against the far wall across from him, but it appeared to be daunting in the room.
He walked up to the cryo-chamber and placed a hand against the door. "I won't let you become like them." He said as he held his hand to the cold door, "I'll save you."
He spoke with a conviction that only a hero could deliver. A hero, of which he wasn't. But he was determined to cure L.A.S. even if it took him a century, even if it cost him his new life.
"You will be an angel once more, Kassandra."37Please respect copyright.PENANAvjPHaQzHa3