TANSTAV part 17

Chapter 5 part 3

The elevator creaked and groaned, moving with all the speed of a giant ground sloth going uphill.

You'd think a high-tech prison could afford a better elevator system.

Aside from all the mechanical grumbling, the ride was silent.  The ogre was disinclined towards conversation (which was good, because he would probably take the opportunity to mooch more money off me), leaving me free to examine the contraption in which we stood. Small, cramped, badly lit-hello, what was this?  A particle of that black and red magic, the same as had been at the Skald residence!  Why on earth was it in the elevator?  I looked at Flavius.  He was picking at the sleeve of his jacket in a bored manner, paying no attention to me.  Nonchalantly, I stepped in the direction of the magic, sliding a spare baggie out of my pocket, and standing at such an angle that the ogre couldn't see what I was doing, if he bothered to look at me.  You can never be too careful in this job, after all.  There seemed to be no security cameras, no observation orbs, no nothing in here.  So with a swipe of my hand, the light was captured and sealed.  I slipped the baggie into my pocket, just in time.  At the speed of a racing snail, the elevator ground to a halt.  The doors creaked open, and we exited.

The prison tower we were in was shaped like a rectangle with no middle.  The cells were placed all next to each other against the wall, with a walkway next to them, and a balcony on the opposite side of it.  I peeked over the balcony, to see a long, long drop down to the lobby.  I could just make out the lamps by the receptionist's desk down below.  When I looked up, it seemed to me that there was still lots of room to spare, even though we had gone up 10 flights.  The prison had to be expandable, like Mr. Jorgensen's pocket.  I turned away from the balcony, and looked to the cells.  The doors were all made of magically enhanced steel, with a small slot where food could be sent through.  On the left side of each cell were a blue button and a green button.  The blue had the word RESTRAIN on it, and the green RELEASE.  On the door to the right of the elevator, I could see the number 10000.  To the left of the elevator was cell 19999.  I sighed.  We were going to have to do quite a bit of walking, it was apparent.

I shall spare the (probably impatient) reader the long walk and checking of numbers, before we finally found 10642.  But rest assured, find it we did.  It looked no different from the others, but to me, the knowledge of what abomination it contained added a touch of sinister feeling to it.  If, that is, he was still there.  Flavius was about to push the RESTRAIN button, but I interceded.

"May I?" I asked.

Flavius looked unsure.  But another hundred assuaged his fears.  I pressed the button with my index claw; it lit up a paler blue, and from within I heard a muffled cry of surprise, followed by several oaths.  Good.  That meant someone was in there, and if it was who I hoped, it gave me great pleasure to inconvenience him.  I unlocked the door, keeping the key with me, and went in.  There, hanging in midair, with arms out and legs shoulder-width apart, completely immobilized, was Desmond Jessup.  In person.

To the eyes of one who doesn't know him, Jessup isn't that bad-looking.  In fact, to certain frames of mind he might even be called handsome (though not as much as yours truly, of course).  He's tall, maybe 6'2", and though thin, also muscular.  His skin is perfectly tanned, and almost flawless.  The only mark is on his left bicep: a red diamond-shaped outline tattoo, with a smaller red diamond inside.  It looks like a rather peculiar eye. He has shoulder-length black hair, which I think looks rather hideous (Don't get me wrong, shoulder-length hair is nice.  On women.  On men, I think it looks kind of icky.).  Jessup also has deceptively clear grey eyes, heavy-lidded, like Paul McCartney's.  The kind of eyes that make girls swoon.  All in all, he looks like an unusually handsome human, except for his feet.  The left one is a cloven hoof, and the right one has the clawed talons of a bird, maybe a hawk.  They are the only visible signs of his demon heritage, and needless to say, make him walk rather awkwardly.  Many an innocent (and many a guilty too) has trembled in fear at the sound of his approach.