"In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."
~ Albert Camus
Chapter XIII
(7 years ago)
Year 2047
Blood, so much blood. Yoki looked around him. Corpses, so many of them. Scattered here and there. An absolute massacre. His hands, stained with the blood of the dead.
“Why, Yoki?” He knew the voice but was too afraid to look behind him.
“Why didn’t you save us, Yoki?”
His mother’s voice rang behind him, desperate. “Why, Yoki, WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE US?!”
The corpses started to rise, with their hands outstretched like zombies.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
The voices rang out, resounding deep into the night. Each one, walking to Yoki, hands outstretched, saying the same things.
“Why us?”
“I had a family!”
“Whatever did we do to you?”
Reality shifted, and he now stood in a courthouse. The courthouse.
Yoki saw the families in the courthouse look at him with burning hatred, fury that spoke more than any words could.
“Yoki, where were you? We needed you.” His father’s voice called out. His father was with his mother. Their dead corpses were crawling with maggots as they stumbled to him.
“Where were you when we were being murdered, annihilatedI? Where were you?”
“Get out of my head!” Yoki screamed, falling to his knees, weeping. He felt someone put a hand on his shoulder.
“Mister, where did my daddy go?” It was a girl, no older than five, with tears streaming down her face. “Where did my daddy go?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Yoki whispered.
“Where did my daddy go?”
Yoki, wake up.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
Wake up, Yoki.
“I’m sorry.”
Wake up.
Yoki was sweating profusely when he woke up, absolutely drenched in a cold sweat. Yet, why did he feel so hot? He needed to cool down. Running to the sink in the cell, he splashed water on himself. “So. . . hot. . . ”
He was burning. He couldn’t help himself. He felt like he was a bomb, ready to explode. The cold sweat turned warm, then hot. Very hot. Yoki needed to cool down, or else something terrible was going to happen. He felt it deep into his bones. If this went on, only bad things would happen.
Glancing around, he saw the only thing that could cool him down. Running to it, he jumped in. Toilet water splashed out, but he felt better. The heat receded back into his very core. Yoki sighed a tired moan before getting out of the toilet.
His nightmares were getting worse even after all the mental strengthening, the meditation, the games he did. It wasn’t working. It was getting worse. “No, I just need to try harder.” He reassured himself.
Sitting down on his bed, drenched in urine, smelling like sewage, Yoki started to meditate. The smell began to drift away; the wetness he felt disappeared. He would control his mind if it was the very last thing he did.
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“Damn, he smells like shit, dude,” Maxwell said, laughing at his own pun. He was looking at Yoki sitting cross-legged, breathing in slow breaths, deep in meditation.
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“Sure does,” Gavin agreed, crossing his arms.
“I almost got up and slit his throat last night, the smelly bastard, but I owe him. He beat up Jeff, fucking hated that dickhead. Got what he deserved,” Wolf commented, still in bed.
“You think he can hear us?” Gavin asked.
“Nah, just look at ’im. He looks like one of them meditating monks,” Maxwell replied.
“Ha, a shit and piss monk,” Wolf joked.
They all laughed in unison, the thought of an actual monk in their mind covered in feces.
Pathetic.
“Whatcha laughing at?” Yoki said, eyes closed, seemingly irritated.
Things got silent, and Yoki opened his eyes. “I need a shower.”
“No shit,” Maxwell muttered under his breath, cursing his pun a second too late.
It happened all in the blink of an eye—Maxwell was up against the wall, held up by only one hand. Yoki’s hand. It happened in less than a second, so fast that Maxwell hadn’t even had time to react. “What did you say?” Yoki whispered, eyes ablaze. His self-confidence came back to him. He was starting to dominate Stongate’s food chain.
“I-I-I. . .” Maxwell was flustered, as to be expected.
This is going to be easy.
“I’ll say this once. If any of you talk back to me, disrespect me, I won’t stand for it. I will destroy you. I will cut you up into itty bitty pieces, and I’ll throw you down the drain. I’ll piss on your corpse. I’ll drink your blood from your skull. You will do as I say, and you won’t talk back. You won’t complain. You will do as I say, without complaint. Do you understand me?”
“Y-y-y. . .”
“Do you understand me!” Yoki screamed, raising his voice for the first time.
“Yes. . . sir.”
Yoki dropped Maxwell to the floor, turning to Gavin frozen in place. Gavin knew what to say without having to be asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Turning for the final time, now to Wolf. But Wolf wasn’t like the rest, and he said nothing. Sensing Yoki’s stare at him, he sat up from his bunk and looked at Yoki. Wolf looked Yoki in the eyes, challenging him. Wolf thought he was above him, and that was not okay. That was going to change. Yoki let his aura ooze out, the pressure of it overwhelming. Wolf seemed appalled, turning pale as he watched Yoki’s demonstration. Gritting his teeth and letting go of his pride, he said, “Yes, sir.”
Satisfied, Yoki let out a nasty grin. From one look at him, you’d be able to tell it was a grin of utter madness. Insanity. One who doesn’t care anymore. Wasn’t scared. Somone who’d kill without hesitation. It was the grin of a madman, and a madman was just what Yoki was. This was the start of Yoki’s reign in prison. He would become the leader of Stonegate.
We’ve had three prison riots in the last ten years. These guys will use any excuse to start something. And we’re not going to give them one.
A lightbulb appeared in Yoki’s head, and a plan started to formulate as he thought. After getting control of everyone in prison, Yoki would do something that few would ever dare think of, for the punishments for it were unknown, surely terrible. That was okay though, for he knew his purpose now. After becoming the leader of the prison. . .
He would start a prison riot.
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The guards had reluctantly let Yoki take a shower in the morning. Ever since the incident that placed him in solitary, the guards seemed wary of him too. Well, the majority of them, at least.
"Heh, fucking pathetic prisoners. Aye, yo, look at that one. He stinks like piss and shit. No way, it's that one kid I was telling you about, Cob."
Around the hallway were two guards. Yoki had never seen them before, meaning they were low priority. They were there solely there to bully the prisoners. Yoki believed Maxwell had called them ‘Bitchin Bull.’
"Hey you, kid. Prison shit, get over here. Let me teach your trash ass a lesson."
It seemed to Yoki that the correctional officer had no clue he had been in solitary for nearly four months because of his fight, resulting in the knockout of five grown men; furthermore, the fact that Yoki inflicted severe brain damage to one as well. Yoki feigned ignorance and continued his way to the showers.
"Don't ignore me, brat," the shorter of the two guards said, walking up to him. At this rate, trouble was brewing. Usually, Yoki would've already knocked them unconscious and continued on his way in peace, but he didn't want to ruin his plans for the sake of taking the easy way out. The only problem with going along with their beatdown would mean showing defeat, something Yoki decided never to do again. Inferring that the best way to resolve the matter would be to scare them off, he decided to wait. He liked having his share of fun, so he let the charade continue.
Yoki stopped walking and turned to them as they continued their march towards him. Yoki pulled out his dong and started to take a whiz in front of them.
"You brat!" The taller one said.
"We're gonna put you in your place, fucking argot!" The smaller one yelled.
Yoki gave into a wide cocky grin and spread his arms out wide. "Come get me, boys."
Just as they were about to move, Yoki let his aura release. It had been waiting to get loose, ever since his nightmare last night. He let it all out.
Damn, it's become a lot stronger. Now, the fun part. . .
"Argh, ahh, I-I-can't-breathe. Mark, help, help m-m-me." The taller guard rasped. He could hardly move forward towards me with the pressure I was releasing. towards him with the pressure he was releasing. It seemed to fill the entire area they were in.
"Cob, I-I can't do anything. . ."
It looked as if Mark would say something as his mouth opened as if he were about to scream, but only a sick gurgle escaped.
Satisfied, Yoki pulled his aura in, drawing back the pressure. The guards collapsed to the ground, holding their throats, coughing. Without a single word, Yoki continued to the showers. 'Don't mess with a man with nothing to lose, for he's more fearsome than the mightiest person there is,' his father used to say. He couldn't have been more spot on.
Yoki continued to the showers, humming a song that he heard from a musician in a pub.
"On my way, to the room.
Life is happy, don't grow gloom.
Be happy, for life is fun.
Until you find, that time is gone.
Skipping down the alley street.
Remember to call, skippy Pete!
For all you know, this is it,
don't cry, or you're a kid!
La, la la, la, la la la.
Da, da da, da, da da da."
He continued his hum, arriving at the showers. He stripped naked, and turned on the faucet. Luckily, no one was here yet, as it was breakfast time. No one missed breakfast to shower—unless they smelled as awful as Yoki did in his current state. Turning the single valve on the shower, numbingly cold water shot out of the showerhead onto Yoki. Despite the freezing water, he felt relieved to be cooled down even more.
Yoki sighed, exhaling a deep breath.
It had been a long time since he felt so relaxed. The nightly meditation he'd done had put his mind at peace, for the time being at least. Unfortunately, his time in leisure ended when a feminine male voice spoke out.
"Lookin' good, sweety."