Friday 

----------------------------------------

In a world seemly abandoned by its creator, a boy named Conan awakens in a dark cell the size of a small dorm room. His nostrils are singed by the stomach-turning smell of cigarette smoke. The culprit seems to be another prisoner. He is a big guy about 5'10, extremely muscular but slender like a wrestler. He has black hair that is combed to the top. He has a commanding presence that Conan can feel even from across the room.

“Sorry that was my last one.”

The man says as he throws his cigarette bud out of his cage. Conan waved his hand across the air and says:

“It’s fine um do you know where we are?”

The man looked around observing his surroundings. There is a number 20 above his cage. The twenty was written on cardboard and cruelty tapped on top of the cage. The number 19 was placed above Conan’s cage. The third cage is empty it had a 21 above it. He scratching at his five o clock shadow and said:

“I don’t know I just woke up a few minutes before you did.”

The room was completely empty expert for the three large cages and a few barren metal tables. The lights were off, a slither of light crept in from the door’s window. Their cell doors had opened automatically, both gentlemen step out of their cages. The man tucked his lighter in his crouch, then stretched his hand out to shake Conan’s hand. Conan's lips twist sourly.

“No thanks, I‘m Conan by the way.”

The man responds

“Hector Martinez but everyone calls me Marz.”

Conan reaches for the door it was unlocked. Conan says:

“Maybe they're letting us go?”

The boys walk out of the room into the hallway. It’s a well-lit but narrow hallway. There is a door adjacent to the room the boys had just left. Marz checks the door. There was no handle it was locked. The door had a metal box attached to it with an opening for a key card.

“Dam I know it would not be that easy.”

Marz mumbles to himself. Conan looks to the other end of the hallway. There was the same kind of door with a metal lock. On the right side of this door was an opening. Conan read the sign above the opening. “Laboratory Showers”. There were patches of white on the wall as if a display had been taken down. The boys continued to walk down the hall. Marz tested the door next to the showers.

“Yea it’s locked too.”

Conan steps inside the bathroom. There are five or six empty pink tilted showers with the curtains removed. There was a two-person sink with a sizable mirror attached to it. There was one row of metal bleachers that was nailed to the floor. On the bleachers were two sets of clothes. One set had a piece of paper on top of it that simply had the number 19 on it. The paper on the other set of clothes read 20, next to the clothes were two sets of towels. Marz took his shirt off and smelled himself. Marz says:

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“I guess I could use a shower.”

He leans over and smells Conan and says

“Mem you could use one too.” Conan pushes Marz back.

“Get off me!”

He says in a tone that was more embarrassed than angry. They heard a door opening and saw an armored guard steps into view. He pokes his head in and says

“Hurry up and shower, I don’t got all day and I don’t give a fuck if you stink!”

He was in a bulletproof vest with an army helmet and some type of assault rifle. His muscle bulked through his Iraqi freedom camo. The guard stepped back out then stood in front of the door next to the shower.

Marz took off his pants. He leaned in close to Conan and put his hand on his shoulder as he whispered:

“For now let’s just play along.”

Marz stepped into his shower. Conan weighted his options then sighed. He looked at himself in the mirror. His brown eyes and copper skin complemented his scruffy lightly trimmed bread. Conan looked at his unpicked hair and the heavy bags under his eyes. He thought to himself his mother would kill him if she had seen how unkept he was.

"If she's still alive."

He said aloud. He took off his clothes and started showering. There was soap in the shower. Conan started lathering his left arm. He went to leather up his right arm but stopped. Conan could believe his eyes. He ran his arm through the water in a panicked motion.

He viciously rubbed the soap against his right shoulder. He washed his arm again but it was still there.

“What the hell.”

Conan thought to himself. In a bold black font, there was a number 19 tattooed on Conan’s right shoulder. Fear had stripped Conan of his modesty. He stepped into Marz’s shower and pointed to his right shoulder.

“Do you have one of these?” Conan shouted.

Through squinting eyes, Marz studdered: “ Wo-ow Hey!”

Marz washed the soap from his eyes, then he turned off his shower. He moved his hair out of his face.

“You want to back up a bit”

The guard shout in from the hallway. “

You got two minutes!”

Conan had come to his sense. He was at a loss for words. His breathing had quickened. His hands had started to feel numb. Conan clasped his hands on knees and braced himself on the shower’s wall. Marz with one hand quickly rinsed the soapy water from his hair.

“Ok just calm down.” Marz pleaded.

Marz stepped out of the shower and passed Conan his clothes. Marz instructed Conan

“Start by slowing your breathing down, take your time.”

Marz dried himself off and dressed. He turned off Conan’s shower. The guard headed to the shower’s entrance. His eyes searched the room.

"Where’s the other one?"

He aimed his gun at Marz. Conan had begrudgingly staggered out of the shower. He had put his clothes on while he was still wet so his clothes were damp. He half-heartedly dried his head off then quickly put on the shoes they had provided. Conan put his hands up as he followed Marz out the showers. The guard moved back to the locked door next to the showers. He still had his gun pointed at Marz. He transitioned from Marz to Conan, as Conan walked out of the showers behind Marz. Conan had composed himself but now he felt dizzy. He clutched his head and fell out in the direction of the guard.

The guard had grunted “Ahh.”

He jumped out of the way so Conan’s lifeless body wouldn’t touch him. Marz turned around.

“Hey catch him!”

The guard cinched. His hands were claw-like frozen from disgust. The guard had backed himself as close to the door as possible. The guard pointed his gun at Marz. He shouted,

“Get him up now!”

Conan had fainted. He came two mid-way and avoided hitting the ground. One arm was on the ground in "push up" position. Conan held his head with the other hand.

“I’m fine” Conan mustered out.

Conan stood up and walked in Marz’s direction. The guard seemed to be the most shaken up by the ordeal. The boys walked back into the room with the cages.

“I’m not getting back in there”

Conan protested looking at the cage with 19 above it. Marz sighed waving his fingers through his hair. 

“If we don’t they’re just going to force us into them. We need to play nice for now.”

Marz stepped into his cage. The door closed automatically once he was close enough to his bed. Awaiting Conan inside his cell was a makeshift meal. Before he could push it away in walks a petite man with rodent-like features in a dingy white lab coat.