Chapter 11: Into the wolf's mouth

The tank, once in the city and under the inquisitive look of thousands of citizens, crowded together on the edges of the road that wouldn't stop throwing eggs and tomatoes at them, headed slowly towards the metropolis' center, surrounded by dozens of police escort motorcicles. Finally, when they parked, Onix couldn't see a thing by the tank's gap, since it was very dark. After a moment there was light, suddenly the engine stopped and the hatch opened by itself again. No one appeared to take the two men off the tank; simply a strong and authoritarian voice shouted at them from the outside the order of leaving their weapons and go out the vehicle inmediately and with the hands up.

Rezler and Onix, who were expecting that already, did it as they were told, and when they focused their eyes on that strange place in which they ended up, they felt no less than panic; dozens of soldiers, with their machine guns up and around the tank in a perfect circle. A step in front of them, their superior, a rough old man with a serious baldness and a penetrating look.

After looking at both prisoners, the major spit disdainfully the order that they were arrested. From behind of the marksmen file who still aimed with their guns, six agents came out carrying a pair of strong handcuffs for foot and hands, and diligently put them on both men, with later addition of hits and kicks from them to the captives which caused them to fall off the top of the tank. Then the major in person walked towards their position and raised them from the floor forcefully, still stunned and aching. Onix and Rezler were taken like rabid dogs to the doors of that strange and dark garage which led to the interior of the building, and for what they saw they supposed they were on the waiting room of some high security prison. Before leaving the garage, Rezler tried hard to look behind and could see satisfied how his little raplos got out of the tank and escaped from that garage by the still opened hatchway, going unnoticed for the guards. The bald man took them personally to the warden, and after telling him something the captives couldn't hear, the warden smiled evily and took charge of them. Then, the major left the room but, surprisingly to Onix, took Rezler with him. After this, the warden, a fat man, with poor, grey and neglected hair and with a disgusting permanent expression on his face, begun to inspect little by little his new prisoner. Four guards kept watch of his back.
-So we have one of those famous warlocks. -said, taking delight in his observation- Oh, don't be shy, show me your face, assassin.
The warden held out his hand to take off the black cloth that covered Onix' face, and just after he uncovered him, the assassin bit without double thinking it the thumb of the man, not letting go. The warden screamed with pain as his hand bled abundantly, and to make Onix let him go, the four guards had to give him a terrible beating until, finally, the warlock fell to the floor with small pieces of skin on his teeth and the face stained with the other man's blood, which didn't take long to mix up with his own, still on the floor, the guards as well as the warden beat him up until he fell unconscious.

The warlock woke up in a dark, gloomy cell. Even though he opened his eyes, he saw nothing but blackness. Onix, who was aching all over and couldn't even get up, after several attempts at moving that only caused him more pain, stayed in silence, quiet, expecting to at least perceive something, a kind of sign that could allow him to be conscious of the flow of time and his location in a place.

But he perceived nothing. After several minutes of uncertainty which were like hours to him, the convict was almost influenced by desperation... but he didn't allow himself to give that pleasure to his enemies. Yes...that was what he should do. He should stay calm, as he did always. Stay calm, relax, let time go by with his mind as partner. Thinking about the future, Onix saw nothing else but an even more deeper darkness than the one on his cell, so he decided to try the hardest to completely take away those thoughts, and focus in other things. After a while, he managed to fall asleep.

Echoes of Hate since 2008.
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Echoes of hate by Ivan de los Angeles Company / Janna Bello García is licensed under a Creative Commons Reconocimiento-No comercial-Sin obras derivadas 2.5 España License.
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