"The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it."

~ C.C. Scott

Chapter IX

(8 Years Ago)

Year 2046

Yoki wasn’t sure how long he’d been in Stonegate when, all of a sudden, things changed. The criminals who’d spent weeks ignoring him suddenly stopped—and not in a good way. Now, he was getting heckled and picked on as he shuffled between assignments. Men bumped him in the hallways, almost knocking him over. They cursed under their breath at him as he picked up weights in the yard. They glared when they sat down across the table from him at dinner. Where before he’d felt invisible, now he felt very exposed, the center of attention everywhere he went.

It was starting to feel ominous. He knew what happened to guys who drew too many eyes. He’d seen it happen more than once already. They got beat up—if they were lucky. If they weren’t lucky, they got shanked. Those were the ones he had to deal with in the infirmary—well, used to have to deal with, anyway, before he got stuck with GED studies. Prison injuries weren’t pretty. He didn’t want one.

It was hard to say why he’d been singled out, but it seemed to be because he was small. He looked, to the other prisoners, like an easy target. Even though he knew he wasn’t, it made sense that they thought that. A little kid shouldn’t be able to beat up a bunch of hardened criminals. It just happened that this one could.

He still didn’t want to lay all his cards out on the table just yet. It didn’t seem like the right time. But it was coming. And if these guys didn’t stop hassling him, it was coming sooner than they’d like it to.

In the meantime, he decided to work on getting his body strong. He was powerful, but he was still too skinny—less than a third of the size of the other men in Stonegate, and that made him stand out. It was time to fix that. If he stayed small, he’d keep getting picked on. If he got bigger, he’d blend in more and be left alone. Alone was good.

He started deliberately increasing the size of the weights he lifted in the morning exercise period in the indoor yard. At first, he felt pathetic. He could barely lift anything at all—and the long period of confinement during the trial had made him even weaker than he had been before it. But he kept at it. During his GED studies, he secretly flexed under the table, trying to lift himself off the ground with muscles he almost never used. He wanted every part of his body to be in peak physical condition. And he was making progress. Slowly but surely, he was getting stronger.

He’d thought the prisoners would leave him alone once he bulked up a bit, but he was wrong. If anything, they only hassled him more.

“Kid’s trying to get huge,” Maxwell sneered as they left their cell in the morning. “Do we think it’s working?”

“I see a little muscle,” Gavin said. “But not much.”

“Bet we can beat that out of him.”

“You don’t want to try,” Yoki said, then immediately cursed himself for speaking out of turn.

Why’d you do that? You’re not supposed to be attracting attention!

Luckily, the guys just laughed. They didn’t take him seriously. And why would they? He was just a kid, after all.

Things continued in that vein for days—weeks—months. Every day was basically the same. He worked out, took GED classes (but secretly worked out the whole time), built license plates, trying to use his left arm, and ingested an endless series of identical disgusting meals. He was getting used to it. Where the prison routine had once been intolerable, now he almost found comfort in the sameness. He knew exactly what to expect every day. There were no surprises—not really. Sometimes someone got jumped, but it was never anyone he knew. Sometimes prisoners went to the infirmary and never came back, and that was a bit of a change, at least for a while. But another prisoner soon came to fill the hole they’d left behind, and the dead men were soon forgotten. That was the way of Stonegate. It was harsh and unforgiving, and even death didn’t hold many people’s attention for long. Soon, Yoki had no idea how old he was or how much time had passed since his arrival. The only thing he cared about was getting stronger.

Then, one day, everything changed. The other prisoners had been annoying, hassling, and harassing him, but nothing serious had happened yet. He’d managed to convince himself that he’d have some warning before they went after him for real—that they’d work up to it first, one bit at a time. Because they’d kept everything low level so far, they didn’t really see him as a threat.

He was wrong. Even after all the time he’d spent in Stonegate so far, he still hadn’t learned its ways. They jumped him out of nowhere while he was working out in the yard. Five men he didn’t know attacked him from behind.

Yoki blacked out for a second and came to with an arm around his neck, crushing his windpipe. If he did nothing, he’d probably die. Well, he’d been hiding his skills for too long. It was time to do something.

He flipped his attacker over his head, leaving the man groaning on the ground in front of him. Then, he faced off against the other four. They were ugly, with cruel and twisted faces—clearly hardened criminals. One had a scar running down the side of his face. Another wore an eyepatch over one eye. A third man—the guy he’d flipped—had a bald and shiny head, like an egg. The last two, smaller but equally menacing, hung back slightly, waiting for an opening.

“Back off,” he said, pitching his voice low and trying to sound authoritative. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Eyepatch laughed, sounding almost like a cackling monkey. “Hurt us? What are you talking about?”

“I know I don’t look like it, but I’m really powerful. Almost superpowered. I’ve beaten enemies way tougher than you could ever hope to be.”

“Don’t make us laugh, kid. We could eat you for lunch. Eat you up and throw away your little bones. Like chicken bones.”

“You might think that, but you’d be wrong. I killed fifty-four cops to get in here.”

“Fifty-four cops!” Scar-face laughed. “Fifty-four cops! It’s always the same story. It’s basically mythological. You really expect us to believe a scrawny nobody like you could do something like that?”

“I know you don’t believe it. But it’s true.”

“In your dreams, maybe.”

“For the last time,” Yoki said, holding his arms out to the side as a warning. “I’m telling you. You don’t want to try to take me on. It’s not going to go well for you. Leave me alone. Let me stay invisible. Live your life in Stonegate, far away from me. I’m not the guy you want.”

They didn’t respond to him at all, just charged him blindly, bellowing like a pack of wild animals. Yoki sighed. Well, he’d always known this day would come. It was time to show them what he could do.

He sidestepped them easily, and they crashed into each other. The sound of their bodies hitting the floor was deafening. Quickly, before they could get up, Yoki jumped on top of Scar-face and started pummeling him. It had been a while since he’d last fought his cellmates, and he was thrilled to see that his hard work with the weights in the yard was paying off. The other guy, big as he was, didn’t stand a chance. Yoki landed a hard punch to the jaw, and Scar-face slumped to the ground, unconscious.

He felt someone grab the collar of his jumpsuit, and then he was being lifted into the air. Eyepatch screamed in his face, furious.

“How dare you, kid! How dare you beat on my friend like that?”

Yoki lashed out with his feet, landing a powerful kick into the other man’s stomach. Eyepatch dropped him, eyes going wide with shock, and staggered back a few steps. Yoki advanced on him, eyes narrowed, and went on the attack. Just like Scar-face, Eyepatch couldn’t stand up to Yoki’s strength and superior fighting ability. He went down quickly, twitching. Both of them were out for the count.

The last two men moved in tandem, trying to flank Yoki from both sides. They were smaller and quicker, but Yoki’s training had paid off. He ducked under a punch from one, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back until he heard the satisfying snap of bone. The man screamed in agony and fell to his knees.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The final man hesitated for a moment, seeing his comrades defeated. Then, with a guttural roar, he charged at Yoki. Yoki met him head-on, their bodies colliding with a sickening thud. They grappled for a moment, but Yoki’s superior strength and technique quickly overpowered the man. He delivered a series of rapid punches to the man’s face, feeling the crunch of bone beneath his knuckles. The man fell back, blood streaming from his nose and mouth.

Yoki stood amidst the fallen men, his chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The other prisoners in the yard had all stopped what they were doing to watch him,and they were staring at Yoki in shock. He smiled.

“You want to see how the professionals do it?” he said. “Watch me.”

He took the last guy down with a well-placed roundhouse kick to the jaw. All five of the men who’d tried to jump him were laid out around him. He was victorious.

He didn’t get much time to celebrate, though. A high-pitched whistle split the air, and the other prisoners immediately went back to exercising, pretending they hadn’t seen anything. A large group of guards came running, faces grim.

“Yoki!” the head guard said, panting from his sprint over and holding a taser at the ready. “Explain yourself.”

“I—” Yoki started to say, then stopped. There didn’t really seem to be all that much to explain. “They tried to jump me, so I fought them off.”

“I can see that. But how? How did a little kid like you manage to do that?”

He shrugged. “I’m really powerful. I keep trying to tell people that. More powerful than anyone would expect.”

The guards didn’t respond, just checked the unconscious men for signs of life, so he decided to address the other prisoners. Really make a point.

“See? Don’t hassle me!” he shouted. “You see what I did to them? I’ll do it to you if you try anything! Leave me alone if you know what’s good for you!”

“All right, wise guy,” the head guard said. “That’s enough. Come with me.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Solitary. And if you ask me, you’re going to be there a while.”

And so, Yoki’s time in Stonegate entered a new phase. Solitary was a padded white cell deep in the prison, far underneath the earth. The guards muscled him down there, threw him inside, and slammed the door. He was alone all the time—24/7—and his meals were shoved through a tray in the bottom of the door twice a day. He didn’t even see the guards who left the food.

In the main prison, the lights were turned off for eight hours every night to allow the prisoners to sleep. That wasn’t the case in Solitary. The harsh white lights were on constantly, and Yoki spent his first few nights in his new cell tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. Eventually, he discovered that if he buried his head in his pillow to shut out the light, he was able to get a little rest. But only a little. He was still exhausted constantly—which seemed to be part of the point.

At first, he didn’t mind being alone. It was better than being constantly hassled and tortured by the other prisoners, and it was nice not to have to constantly be on guard against surprise attacks. He was able to hear himself think for the first time in months.

But as the days wore on and he stayed in Solitary, things started to get a little weird. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the isolation. But he started hearing Painkiller in his head again.

Yoki.

“What?”

He was crabby and exhausted. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to a creepy voice.

Yoki. How are you liking Stonegate?

“I hate it here, thanks.”

Are you ready to talk to me again, Yoki? You’ve been shutting me out.

“No. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Leave me alone.”

The voice fell silent, but he knew it was still there. He could feel it watching him from the back of his mind. He hadn’t actually made it go away. It had chosen to leave for a while, and it would return when it thought he was more vulnerable to its influence.

He didn’t hear from it for a few days after that, but sure enough, it came sneaking back one night after dinner.

Yoki.

“What do you want?”

Remember what I told you, Yoki? Remember what I told you to do?

He thought about it for a second. “You said to ally myself with Doc.”

Good. Glad you remembered that.

“I haven’t met a Doc in Stonegate.”

You will. He’s a friend. You’ll do well to side with him.

“I don’t have any friends here. Everyone is terrible. They all want to kill me.”

Not all. Doc won’t, when you meet him. He’ll be friendly. I think you’ll like him, Yoki. I really do.

“How do you—” Yoki stopped. Was he really talking to Painkiller like this? He’d been isolated for so long that any conversation was appealing. But he couldn’t let his guard down. He had to remember that the voice was malevolent. It was just trying to fool him.

“I’m going to push you out,” he said. “Wait and see.”

Painkiller chuckled darkly. Sure you are.

But he left him alone again after that.

Yoki could feel his grip on reality slipping more and more the longer he stayed in Solitary—and he knew that was a bad sign. He was starting to go crazy in isolation. He needed to take steps to fix the situation, stat. His dad had told him about techniques that could be used to control the brain, to keep the mind sane in extreme situations, although he’d died before he’d had the chance to teach Yoki any of them in depth. Still, it was worth a try.

He started to play little math games, trying to see how high he could count before he lost track of what number he was at. He looked around the room carefully, then closed his eyes and tried to picture his surroundings as vividly as possible, leaving nothing out. He made up stories, then recited them back to himself, trying to get every detail and turn of phrase exactly the same every time. He played chess in his head with himself. To an outsider, he would have looked insane. But he was doing exactly what he had to do.

He waited for Painkiller to come out so he could test his new mental abilities, but the voice stayed dormant—for now. At some point, though, after he’d been in Solitary for what felt like weeks, a guard came bursting through the door. He had an unpleasant expression on his face, but Yoki was almost happy to see him. It was the first human face he’d seen since he’d arrived.

“We’re required to check on you after two weeks,” the guard said. “We’ve been watching you on the monitor. Seems like you’re starting to lose it.”

“I’m not,” Yoki said. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t quite sure that that was true, but he wouldn’t give the guard the satisfaction of knowing if he wasn’t.

“Hm. Been talking to yourself a lot. We’ve been watching you.”

“Just telling stories.”

Yoki tried to keep his voice calm. He was already tired of the guard and wanted him to leave.

“We’ve all got bets in the guard station on how long it’s going to take you to crack. I give you another week. You’ll be gibbering like a lunatic in no time.”

“Okay. What happened to my GED?”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t the state want me taking classes? I was supposed to be studying for my GED. But I haven’t gotten any coursework since I’ve been down here.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” the guard said, looking confused.

“Nothing. Just, if the state found out you’d put a kid in Solitary, you might be in big trouble. Even more if they learned that you’d taken away all my coursework. You’re destroying my future.”

“You destroyed your own future.”

“Maybe,” Yoki said.

“Are you threatening us?”

“Not at all,” Yoki said coolly. “Just giving you a few things to think about. That’s all. Maybe bring it up to your superiors next time you see them.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do, kid?”

“No one. Just Yoki. You can do what I said, or not. It makes no difference to me.”

The guard stormed out, looking flustered, and slammed the door hard behind him. Yoki waited. Soon enough, he heard a familiar dark chuckle in his head.

Nice. You really freaked that guard out.

“I wasn’t trying to freak anyone out. I was just telling him the truth.”

Still. You did a good job. He’ll be careful next time he talks to you.

“That’s good.”

Why did you invite me here? You’ve spent weeks trying to shut me out. What changed?

Yoki sighed and decided to get right to it. “I’m going to try to control you.”

Painkiller laughed. You can’t do that.

“I can. I’ve been spending time working on strengthening my mind. I’m ready to try to tell you what to do.”

You’re ready to try. That much I believe.

Yoki swallowed hard and looked at the floor.

So go ahead. Try to control me. What are you going to try to do first?

“I’m going to send you away.”

Sure. Do it.

He concentrated hard, still unsure of how to do this. He envisioned Painkiller vanishing, disappearing far down into the depths of Yoki’s mind. Lying dormant again. He sent as much force into the thought as he could muster. It felt like something was happening. Something powerful. Something he’d never done before.

After a moment, he stopped concentrating. “Painkiller?”

Yes?

“Oh,” he said, deflated.

I told you that you couldn’t do it.

“I can. I’m going to. I just need to work harder. Train harder.”

The voice laughed. Nope. I can’t be controlled. I do exactly as I please, when I please. And I think you’re about to learn that, Yoki. I really think you are.

“Go away!” Yoki shouted, louder than he’d intended to. His voice echoed off the walls of his cell. “Get out of here.”

I’ll go away when I want to. Not before.

And with that, the voice fell silent.

“Painkiller?” Yoki said.

There was no response. It was clear he’d appear and disappear when he wanted. There was nothing Yoki could do about it—for now.

But he was determined to change that. He kept working on his mental strength, doing his exercises twice as often as he’d been doing them before. He also went back to working out. Even though he didn’t have any weights with him in Solitary, he was able to do bodyweight exercises with calisthenics. If he strengthened his body, too, he thought, he’d be able to control the voice better. And as a bonus, working out would help him occupy himself during the long and boring hours he spent alone in there. He knew that if he started to go mad, Painkiller would probably take over—and he didn’t want that. He’d do anything in his power to avoid it.

The same guard as before kept checking in on him, although now he seemed a little cowed by Yoki. One day, he brought down a book of schoolwork and threw it on the floor, looking disgusted. The exercises in the book were too easy for Yoki, but it was something to do. When he’d finished them all, he realized that he now had paper and a pencil. He started writing things down: his life story up to his trial and imprisonment in Stonegate, and fantasy stories that he made up out of his head. When he was done, he read them over and over again.

Strangely, reading the story of his parents’ murder over and over again helped him start to process and grieve what had happened. He was still traumatized, but things didn’t feel quite as raw as they did before. He was no longer grieving Yoki, cop-killer. Now he was someone else. Who exactly that was remained unclear to him for now.

From time to time, Painkiller came back to talk to him, but never for long. The voice seemed to be content just to periodically remind him that it existed before vanishing again. Yoki didn’t mind it too much. He grew almost used to it.

Then, one day, his life in Stonegate changed once again.