You’ve been in and out of jail all your life, and in that time you’ve learned one immutable truth: When you’re caught, you’re caught. Don’t fight it, just try to deal with it when it’s over. That simple philosophy has saved your tail time and time again, and you figure it should hold true in this horrible place, as well.
And so you stay quiet and well-behaved as the burly orderlies drag you through grimy hallways. One thing in particular strikes you as strange, however. On the entire trip, the orderlies stay absolutely silent. None of them utters a single word. They’re not even grunting with the strain of holding you (you’re a small man, but not that small).
In all your prison visits, you’ve noticed something about the people who work there that never changes: Guards like to preach. They have to. It’s essential for them to prove to themselves how much different, how much better, they are than you.
Every other time you’ve been caught doing something, the guards have seen fit to give you a lecture on it as they dragged you to your punishment:
“What did you think was going to happen, Vlad?”
“Did you really think you could get away with that, Vlad?”
“Nice try. Next time try harder.”
Shit, even the SWAT guys who pulled you, raving and screaming, out of your home a few weeks back had seen fit to impart a few words of wisdom:
“What kind of a psychopath would do that to his own wife and kids? You’re going away for a long time, you sick fuck.”
Upon reflection you think they may have been a bit harsh. Especially considering the fact that you’re innocent. Or at least you think you are.
Your reflection, however, is broken by the realization that you are suddenly flying through the air at high speed. Having reached their destination (a dirty little square room about 10 feet across) it would seem your captors saw fit to hurl you inside with little care for your safety.
In the split second you have between being launched from the doorway and hitting the opposite wall, your natural survival instincts kick in. You manage to rotate your lower body in flight and hit the wall with your feet. Then you throw your arm across your upper body, which causes you to go into a roll. The net effect of this is that you land on the floor on your feet, in a crouch with your back facing the wall. Now, you think, is the time to deal with it.
You hold your hands out and wait for the Orderlies to rush you.
One of them holds up his arm (thick as a tree-trunk, you now notice) and grabs the door, slamming it with all his might. You hear a few clicking sounds as they lock the door behind you, and hear the unmistakable sounds of their footsteps shuffling away down the hall.
Great. Just great.
Now you probably won’t get dinner.
Instinctively, your eyes dart around the room. Looking for something you can use as a weapon or for some means of escape. The room is, if such a thing is possible, even dirtier than the common room. The cement walls are stark, broken only by a small barred window in the wall opposite the door. The ceiling looms above you in the oppressive gloom. You think you see a light up there, but it’s off right now and you don’t see any way of turning it on.
The only other feature in the room is a bed pressed up against one of the walls. The sheets are disgusting — stained, you suspect, with various bodily fluids . You don’t want to look closely enough to figure out what caused the stains, though. The whole room is permeated with a horrible smell that you can’t quite place. On each of the four corners of the bed, as well as on either side, are thick leather restraints — one for the head, two for the wrists, and two for the ankles.
After pacing around the room for what feels like hours, there is an audible clicking sound and the fluorescent light on the ceiling begins to flicker. You expect it to eventually stabilize, as most fluorescent lights do, but it never does.
In the flickering light, however, you are finally able to fully see the ceiling. There’s a vent in one of the corners, very near the ceiling, and it looks like it might be big enough for you to crawl through (though only barely) if you could get the cover off.
With some effort, you move the bed over to that wall without making too much of a racket and you’re about to investigate the vent when you hear a clicking noise from the door and it slowly swings outward. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, you poke your head outside. The hallway is empty.
The leading choice was “Go along quietly wherever theyâ€™re taking you” which beat “Attempt to reason with your silent captors” by one vote.
After being thrown into your room, you made your check to roll with it (and so didn’t suffer any damage from the impact or fall). Vlad is an acrobatic sort, so it wasn’t too hard for him. Plus you got almost a perfect roll.
You failed the first check to notice the hidden vent, but you passed the second check a while later.