Chapter I

Guests of the Institute

Echo, the Wolfrick family dog, ran through the grass, and Martin Wolfrick, the youngest of the four brothers ran with him. It felt good, good to be free to roam around at his own leisure. But as he continued to run, he left his family far behind, back at the Manor House that stood in the distance behind him. Though at the moment that didn’t matter, After all, Vernon had always told him that whilst he was with Echo, then nothing and no-one could do him harm.

Now breathless, Martin turned back the way he had come, back towards the Manor House that was his home, and Echo followed, heading his commands as he had always done for some reason that he had never been able to explain, even to himself. But the thoughts of his unusual connection with Echo vanished, as he walked up to join the group of people that were standing around talking.

He saw his three brothers, along with Commander Codsworth. He saw Dmitri and Charlie, and his father; Alan, discussing something that he didn’t understand. Not that this troubled him, he had rarely understood much of what his father had talked about with his companions before, so Martin saw no reason why he should now.

But someone else was there, a woman who he didn’t recognise; she was tall and had long dark brown hair. Although when Martin tried to get a better look at her, she turned away, keeping her identity hidden. Though the woman’s attempts to hide from him aside, he was happy, and in response to his mood, Echo settled down next to him, completely at peace with the world. Before quickly and suddenly disappearing into smoke.

“Echo?” Martin said looking around, starting to panic, he felt tears fall down his cheek. As he looked around, he realised that he was alone out here. “Nonononono.” Martin continued, his command for whatever this was to stop came out as one long word as he looked around at the now empty landscape. But as he continued to look, even that started to disappear around him, and a small room materialised around him as he woke up.

Dawn broke, bright and early, as what little sunlight reached this place came through the bars of the single window and woke up Martin long before the sound of the guard bellowing throughout the prison corridor, not that it was anymore of a relief to be woken up by the sun, rather than the apes the prison housed.

“Get up, inmates, you have a long day’s work ahead!” The guard bellowed which was accompanied by a quick groan from a couple of the cells. Martin too groaned before looking around at his cell, not that there was much to see. The grey, stone room was only about three meters long, two meters deep and consisted of only a single stone bed, along with a small toilet in the far corner. Apart from that it was completely barren, other than the spiders who were the small boy’s only company at night. At least that was something, being locked in a room all night with those creatures had done miracles for his arachnophobia. Although he had hoped to have it cured in a much more peaceful way.

Martin remembered the first week that he had been locked inside his cell, with the spiders. He remembered how he had shrieked when he first saw them. And then how one of the guards had entered the room, and beaten him until he was silenced. That punishment had gone on for a few more days whenever Martin had shrieked at the side of the arachnids, until he learned to just try and keep quiet whenever he saw the eight legged creatures. 

Despite this though, the fear had persisted and he was more than often to be found whimpering in the far corner of the room. That was until he started to talk at the creatures, purely just to talk to something in this lonely place that didn’t try and beat, shock or drown him on an almost daily occurrence, and only once he had started to do this, did he begin to loose his fear of spiders.

That being said, his recent conquering of his phobia aside, this place was still nothing short of hell on earth for Martin, along with the other inmates, which now numbered about forty or so, that lived within these horrid walls. But it felt somehow even worse to Martin, who supposed that with him knowing nothing other than luxury of Wolfrick Manor, to Brutus’s cabin and even the house in Bergskort as a home, it had taken a few days to get used to the spartan nature of his new home, not that he would have ever called it that. 

He wondered, as he often did in these times about the group he had been traveling with, and how close they were to discovering his present location, as surely the likes of Codsworth and Dmitri would be on the hunt for him. 

There had been a brief time, much earlier on in his incarceration at this hellish place, when he had almost given up on that sense of hope that the powerless have. That was until he had overheard one of the guards discussing the activity of the dwarves of Normanguard, and how they seemed to be stepping up their efforts to locate them. That at least gave him back his hope that the group were continuing the search for him. He missed them, he missed his brothers, and Vernon, Dmitri and Charlie, and all the others. However, he missed Echo the most of all. Had the husky been with him, he doubted that he would ever have been caught, he had often thought this to himself as he lay alone at night during those early days. Even though he now realised that if Echo had been with him, the husky would probably have been killed in order to get to him.

Despite the guard bellowing at the cell block at large, Martin closed his eyes trying to get a few more minutes of sleep. Aside from his latest one, he had been dreaming about the only thing that many dreamed about whilst stuck in this place; escape. Whilst he had no idea if it was possible, it was the only thing that gave him hope. Also, it was the one thing that the guards couldn’t take away from them, not that they didn’t attempt to. It was common knowledge, well now anyway, that even the mention of escape was enough to get the ever-living shit kicked out of you and that was if you were lucky. And Martin had considered himself lucky to receive only that, as afterwards, another kid had been sent bellow for loosing his mind and declaring to the entire canteen that he intended to lead a rebellion and then escape this place.

There was one thing that scared him more than the guards, and more than being used as some tool. And that was the fact that in the past, whenever he had been angry, or scared, things had a tendency to move, doors would close without any evidence of a draft, and objects would fall of tables. Martin didn’t understand what exactly it had all been about, but even now he had come to realise that it was him that was causing these events to happen. Now though, when he was angrier and more scared than anytime of his life, nothing happened. It was like this place was doing something that was limiting that part of him, a part of him that he had always hated, until now.

He had only realised this when, after his second or third encounter with the electro rod. And in his anger, he had expected to see things begin to shake, as they usually did. But nothing had happened, everything had remained still. What was worse though, was that the guards had seemed to be happy and almost proud of this, like it was something that they were doing to him.

But he put those thoughts to one side, and tried to get a few more moments of rest. However, this plan for a few more minutes of sleep quickly fell apart as a few moments later, the door to his cell was opened, and a thick set guard stood in the doorway, clutching a long electro rod in his right hand, staring down at the now awake Martin. His experience, both first and second hand had taught him well, that the electro sticks were not to be taken lightly.

“What about you, Inmate 346. Are you going to give me any trouble today?” The guard said looking down at the small boy in front of him, with an almost eager looking grin on his fat face. The use of his number rather than his name reinforcing the fact of what he was to these people, a tool to be used until it broke and then swiftly discarded.

Martin looked up, in stark contrast to the guard, he had arrived at the camp short and skinny, and he was even more so now, his previous messy long light brown hair was gone and had been replaced by the buzz cut the prison guards had given him, the only thing that hadn’t changed was his eyes that had remained stubbornly blue, unlike his older brothers when they were his age. Although his right one was now supporting a black eye, a result of his most recent trouble making, when he had dared to question one of the guards a week ago. 

He had considered himself both lucky and fortunate that he hadn’t been dumped into the tank for his troubles as well. And remembering this latest encounter, Martin continued to look at the guard before answering.

“No.” Martin said with nothing short of loathing in his eyes, however he immediately regretted that decision as this answer seems to annoy the guard as if Martin had attacked him. For the guard bellowed at the small boy in front of him. Before driving the rod into Martin, hitting him with the full force of the device.

Pain shot through Martin body as the electro stick was applied to his arm. Causing Martin to keel of his stone bed and twitch on the ground, as the guard pulls the stick back and dragged the still twitching Martin out of his cell, and into the corridor outside where twelve of the other inmates stood watching. As he was being dragged unceremoniously across the cold stone ground, he looked up at the guard.

“Fuck you.” Martin said staring daggers at the oversized gorilla, this was all the resistance he was able to manage as the guard changed tack and turned to the group of onlookers.

“You lot.” The guard said, looking around at the assembled crowd. Dropping Martin against a nearby wall, still twitching but able to just about steady himself from the previous blast of electricity. “Look at what happens when you fail to show me the proper respect.”

The guard then drove the rod into Martin again, forcing him back down to the ground, he continued this action for a few seconds before withdrawing, to allow Martin to stumble to his feet who stared daggers at the guard, but not saying anything. The group of onlookers said nothing however, as Martin clumsily raised himself up. With the guard giving the young boy a sneer.

“Now then inmate 346, what do you say?” The guard said looking down at the youngster with a lear. At the obvious look of sadistic satisfaction; Martin thought in his mind of what he would really like to say to the guard, all of them revolving around very rude words. But as ever, the reality of the situation set in, and he submitted in order to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“No sir.” Martin said in an undertone, trying and failing not to give the man the satisfaction he craved.

“Again Inmate. So, we can hear you.” The guard said smiling, mockingly holding his hand to his ear. Martin saw that this sick bastard was enjoying this and would just love to use his stick again, he was half tempted to disrespect the guard again. But the sight of the electro stick however, which the guard brought onto Martin’s eye level smiling all the while, was enough of a persuader to convince him to just give the guard what he wanted.

“No sir.” Martin said more clearly, giving up on his morning defiance, as he had done on every other occasion that he had tried to resist.

“Better.” The guard said smiling and nodding, as if he was talking to a dim child who had learned the most basic thing in class. The subjugation of Martin, however, didn’t satisfy him for long as he quickly turned to the rest of the inmates. “What are you lot looking at!” He bellowed. “Get in line now!”

The inmates quickly formed into single file as the guard walked them out of the cell corridor, glaring at them. Once convinced that the guard couldn’t hear them. Olly Stacks, a ginger haired boy who was directly behind Martin in the line leaned forward.

“Do you actually liked getting shocked, Sparky?” Olly said not unkindly, but with a glint in his eyes, obviously hoping for some more defiance from his friend. Martin simply shook his head in response, not wanting to give the guard another reason to electrocute him again. Of all the inmates Olly was the one that Martin had gotten closest too, although he hated the use of the nickname that the older kid had given him after the first few days of their captivity. 

It had been almost eight months since Martin Wolfrick had been captured back in the woods during the hoard attack on his group, although Martin had lost count of the days a few weeks into his imprisonment. And since arriving at this prison, he had been either repeatedly shocked, drowned or beaten, or some combination of the three, on an almost a daily basis for one misdemeanour or another. Which had led to the rise of the nickname that he hated so much.

Upon his arrival, after being hauled out of the trunk of the car that he had spent the majority of the journey to wherever here was, he wasn’t entirely sure on that one. He along with Olly had been herded into a holding cell along with five others before, one by one they were called out. Their heads were shaved, and they were given their new prison attire. Which consisted of a single jumpsuit with their number on the front and back. The clothes that they had been wearing before the inmates capture, along with anything else they had on them, were thrown straight into the incinerator, after that they had left the holding cell. 

Martin remembered how he had tried to break back into the holding room to retrieve his belongings and escape after they threw his possessions away, that had been on the very first night. Needless to say he had been incredibly stupid back then and had achieved nothing other than cause him to receive his first of many beating.

Since then, he had often been used to set a special example to the other inmates of this cursed place. With several of the guards seemingly delighting in punishing him for the slightest misdemeanour.

Martin was then suddenly brought out of his recollections by the sound of Coltan Abraham, the prison warden. A muscular man with a handlebar moustache. The man, like so many of the other guards was known to have a quick temper, but fortunately for the inmates, Colton rarely stepped foot out of his office, where he spent all day in talks with whoever was the real person in charge of this hellhole. As the muscular man stood at the entrance to the security room, that stood between the cell block and prison proper. A large set of steel doors stood behind them, to be used to trap all inmates inside their block in the case of a riot.

“Halt.” Colton said, as if he was addressing nothing more than cattle, heading to the slaughter, there was a temptation to groan at this, although none did as the act of groaning in the presence of this man was almost certainly a one-way ticket to get sent below, where once you were down there, you never came back up. As the group of inmates halted as Colton looked down the line of inmates. “Inmate 274 step out of line.” The warden said as his eyes fixed on one of the inmates, a thin fifteen-year-old who Martin knew as Edgar Woods, stepped out of line looking nervous at Colton who gave a smile that did not reach his grey eyes. “Congratulations my lad, you’ve graduated from this institute, if you would follow me, we’ll get you set up and ready to leave.”

Edgar looking slightly more relieved than he had done a second ago, the fear of not being sent below made him practically giddy as he followed Colton down the corridor and towards a flight of stairs. Martin on the other hand felt differently, whilst not being sent below was a good thing by any account, graduating seemed not that much better. As there were rumours of what happened when you left this place.

This brief pause was ended when the guard bellowed at his remaining eleven inmates to continue or face punishment. Which they promptly did. Heading towards a large canteen area where other inmates had already arrived. As they walked Martin realised that now that Edger was gone, he was now the official old timer at this hell hole, knowing that his time to graduate would soon be upon him.