"This is the song that never ends!"

Four hours. For four hours the jailer had been listening to this.

"Yes, it goes on and on, my friends!"

Four. Fucking. Hours. I have to respect his willpower.

"Some people started singing it not knowing what it was!"

My throat was definitely feeling it from the hours of singing, but the look on their face...

"And they′ll continue singing it forever just because..."

The tight jaw, the bared clenched teeth, the throbbing vein on their forehead...

"This is the song that never ends!"

I have no idea what this guy did to Uncle Vernon, but a 500 bucks is a 500 bucks.

"Yes, it goes on and on, my friends!"

All I have to do is make him break and let me free. And as Uncle Vernon can attest from when he used to babysit, I'm a master at it.

"Some people started singing it not knowing what it was!"

Just need to keep singing... A few more minutes...

"And they′ll continue singing it forever just because..."

His fist is clenching so hard it's almost white! I can see blood dripping from where his nails dig into his palms.

"What will it take to make you stop that fucking song!"

I barely suppress the smile. This guy has just played right into my hands. "Release me."

"No. I will not fail Don Faracetti a fourth time."

I shrug.

"This is the song that never ends!"

Maybe I should add some screeching and be offkey?

"Yes, it goes on and on, my friends!"

Oh, that's doing the trick! Just look at him, scrunching his eyes shut! The screeching is perfect.

"Some people started singing it not knowing what it was!"

"Fine!" the guy shouts, slapping the key into the lock. "Get out! Even death would be better than this!"

I smile as the door swings open, then stand and head out. "Don't worry, I'll tell Uncle Vernon you lasted longer than anyone else."

"Wait... You're Don Faracetti's nephew?"

That look of realization and despair. So perfect.

"Hey you. Hey. Hey. Hey. You. You. Hey~ You~ Heee~y Yooouuu!"

"Ergh. What?"

"Oh. Nothing. Sorry."

*Drag* *Drag* *Drag* Hehe. It's so much fun walking around in circles with fancy footwork. "Ehehehe~"

"What are you doing!?"

"Huh? Oh, just mastering my Phantom Shadow Step movements… pretty cool, huh? So… you feeling a bit jealous? Yeah? Yeah? No? Hey. You."

"Quiet in there!"

"Oh. So…"

"…"

"…"

"So what!?"

"Aye? Oh yeah! I was just thinkin'… you know those people who stand around doing nothing all day for their job? How do they do it? I mean, its cool and all to be able to have time to think a lot, but… don't ya think its kinda hard to think clearly in those situations?

You know… there's this feeling in the back of your head that you have a job to do, so your thoughts get a bit constrained. But at the same time, there really isn't anything else to do other than look around at the same stuff?

Actually… I tried it once. Sitting in an admin booth all day. Havin' people sign in and sign out. And I'm telling ya, that was dull. Like, really dull man! I reckon, if I had to do that for… hmm, I don't know - a month? No - a week? I'd probably just kill myself - like oh my god! Like - just end it! The suffering! The torment!"

Critical Damage

"Urgh. Look - just keep it down in there, okay?"

"Yeah-yeah! No probs!"

Drag Drag Drag "Ehehe~"

Chew Swallow Chew Swallow Chew Swallow

Gulp

"HEY! I have Misophonia, can you please quit it already!?"

"Uh? Yeah? I guess? Yeah - sometimes I reckon I probably have that too! Pretty cool, huh?"

Fidget Rustle Fidget

Tap Tap Tap

"Uh… hey! You! So like, do you ever get tired of people showing you cute animal pictures? You know - like cats. Cats sitting and staring. Cats doing weird and funny things…You know - pretty much any single thing a cat can possibly do. And its cute right?

But you know… after the tenth time its cute. After the hundredth time, still cute right? A thousand times - no problem! Still cute. A million times! SO CUTE! A billion times!! Cute~~~ SOOOOOOO CUUUUUUUTE~!"

Cute

So Cute!

Clang!

"Look! I've opened the door. Just piss off will you? I'm gonna quit. I don't get paid enough for this shit."

How long can a man last without water? That haunting question had never seemed so relevant to Tyler as it did now. It was a question that exposed Tyler even further, a question that revealed how dependent he was. It was precisely this dependence that the trial demanded be displayed, and it did dearly demand that display. Anemic bleached white walls, and buzzing fluorescent lights had been his welcoming party. Alone, in what was like a white void, Tyler was left with nothing to do but wait, his body the sole patch of color, the sole focus of the room. That sort of exposure has an effect on the mind. It draws your own inner demons out, as the only thing to criticize is yourself, and as the thirst set in Tyler knew his body deserved plenty of criticism. Like demons sucking blood, that thirst weaned his strength. So his mind began to wean as well, for the mind is of the body, and his body was beginning to fade.

His body was dependent, and by association he too was dependent. His body had been left exposed by walls, but his mind was exposed by the isolation, and the exposure of his mind was what was truly terrifying. This gnawing realization sat deep inside him, but like the ghosts of so many realizations it was buried. That pesky pimple, that broken nail, that old sore knee. Worn out things that will continue to wear out. Man can only go so far with the bodies we are gifted. Tyler felt the race taking its toll, as he stared blankly at those empty walls, his mind hiding the terror that he’d rather not face. Terror is patient, until it’s not, and terror’s arrival was imminent.

Echoing in the distance, it came with a scraping sound, that of jagged metal. It dragged its hulking, scarred, husk of a body along the corridor before hauling open that prison's drab metal door. Its labored breathing, and spiteful snort broke the hum of the lights. This thing, which smelled of vomit, donned a scowl which made its scars look positively peachy by comparison. Its leg was gone, just like the left half of its face. Tyler looked at with the horror of realization; He now understood what the world could to do to him. This monster was a man who had been brutalized, both his body and his mind. With a slam the tortured jailor placed his chair and took a seat.

Tentatively Tyler decided to begin, “I’m assuming you're my Jailor?.”

The raspy voice of the jailor wheezed out, “I’m your judge, jury, and executioner.”

Tyler gave a parched wheeze of his own, “I’m hoping thirst isn’t your execution style.”

“You’d better continue to hope. You're not getting an easy exit. Ya see this inheritance of yours isn’t free. You're going to earn it, If you get it at all.”

With a smile Tyler replied politely, “Well I’d very much like to earn it. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tyler. And your name?”

The jailor scoffed, “You're not going to get it like that.”

Tyler's eyes ever so slightly narrowed, “Well how do I get it then?”

At this, the jailor gave a jagged smile, “There it is. What you care about. You want it. You want your golden ticket. You go ahead and spill your guts. If I like what I see you might get it.”

End part 1

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it was the perfect plan. launder the chaos crystals, pretend to feel guilty for my actions, get imprisoned and bribe the guard.

but i didn't expect HIM!

the hero of light, evils bane, werewolf slayer, giant spider exterminator, and endangerer of rats.

but i know him by one name, his real name.

joe.

"hey joe" i say to him, thinking through my options.

"silence dark lord. you will pay for your crimes."

he always was a grumpus, never making time for small talk

"i know you don't want to stay here, how about you cut me down right now, save the time it would take to bring me to the guillotine."

"as much as i would love to do that, this sword only spills the blood of literal monsters, not figurative ones"

looks like i can't escape though death, which is a shame. that enchanted amulet of mine was collecting dust. i need to think of something else then, something quick, time is ticking.

one idea, i didn't want to do it, the fourth wall isn't something to be messed with usually, but i can't waste any more time thinking of ways to convince him.

"if i don't escape, how else will we have a sequel?"