"I couldn't find any meaning for my life when I was out there, I'm sure as hell not going to find it in here. This is the grand finale of a life poorly spent and the end result is just overwhelmingly depressing... it's just a sick, pathetic, wretched, miserable life story, that's all it is. How it can help anyone, I've no idea."

- Jeffrey Dahmer was an American and , who committed the rape, murder, and of seventeen men and boys between 1978 and 1991. Many of his later murders involved the permanent preservation of body parts—typically all or part of the body. On November 28, 1994, Dahmer was beaten to death by a fellow inmate. 

Chapter 30

The Main Locking System was the electronic system of connectors to every cell door within the prison. It was activated at all times, keeping all cell doors locked with an electronically controlled bar which connected the cell bars with the wall. This meant that even if someone acquired the key to a cell, the system to that door would also need to be turned off for them to be granted access. That is why someone sat by the switch at all times.

Only guards of high standing could call in with their radios and ask for the system to be turned off, except in emergencies, where all guards were able to call in requests.

Each hallway had their own electronic switch, which could be turned off by entering a four-digit code. Once it was turned off, the door could be opened by a set of keys, which I already had in my possession. All I needed to do was get into the room, deactivate the right switch, and get out without being caught. I already knew the code; I had found it amongst the things on my father's desk, as well as a metal drink bottle.

I walked quickly, never once looking behind me, afraid of what, or who, might face me. It was crazy, insane, but I thought that if I looked back, even for a moment, a slither of doubt would consume me and I would abandon my plan, abandon Vans, and run back to my home and bury myself in my blankets. I couldn't, wouldn't, let that happen; if I went back, there would be no future for me. I would be shipped off to a different place, away form my job and my dream, forever. I wasn't stupid enough to believe I would be going back because I knew my father; he never gave anything up, even for my mother.

I felt around in my heart for any emotions that may have remained for my father, but found none. I was greeted by hollowness greater than I had ever felt before in my life. It was almost as if someone could reach their hand inside of me and go straight through the hole that was left in my chest, the hole where that love for my family should have been. But that hole was no longer filled and remained an open like a black hole, swirling and sucking at the surrounding air, desperate to be filled with something—anything—except the emptiness.

Slipping the keys for Van's hallway into my pocket, I turned the last corner before the control room. My heart recoiled in my chest as if held too close to a flame. The danger of my situation was so solidified I felt like I could touch it.

I peaked my head around the corner slowly, careful enough so I wouldn't be noticed. As I had hoped, the security guards usually stationed outside the door were nowhere to be seen. That meant that Vans had succeeded in his distraction; I knew I wouldn't be bothered by any security guards for at least ten minutes.

Stepping into the hallway, I scanned the area to make sure it was safe before gliding over to the doorway. I placed a delicate hand on the knob, shoved the metal drunk bottle under my armpit, and fumbled around my pockets in search for the key. Then I heard the sound of my life ending; footsteps approaching the hallway.

My eyes widened as I searched through the set of keys to find the one that would unlock the doorway. The footsteps thwacked on the ground like a butcher tenderising meat, each beat getting faster, louder, and more gut wrenching. I slid one of the keys into the hole, but it would not turn. I swore under my breath, heart beat quickening with the onslaught of footsteps. My hands shook wildly, I selected keys at random, but none of them seemed to work. I knew it was one of them; my father had a key to every door, but which one was it?

The footsteps pounded even louder and I knew in a moment they would be upon me and I would be dragged back to my father, and my old life, in a second. But it seemed fate was on my side because the next key slid in perfectly and the door swung open with a click. I flung myself inside and pushed the door shut behind me, breathing erratic and desperate. I pressed my ear against the door, waiting for those haunting footsteps to stop outside and barge inside. But, to my surprise, they continued onward, never once faltering, until I could no longer hear them slap against the hard floor.

My chest heaved with relief and I sunk down onto the floor, a quiet laugh escaping my lips. He must have been running to the commotion Vans had created and didn't stop to think about the unguarded control room. I raked my hands through my hair and sat up, taking in my surroundings.

The room was alive with electricity. Wires twisted like baby snakes over the ceiling and walls. Computer screens provided the only light in the room, buzzing and occasionally beeping against the back wall, casting a blue light over the small room. Large control boxes lined the other walls, whirring as large metal disks spun inside it like cogs. But the most important detail was the man who sat behind the large desk, looking upon computers and monitors, headphones snug upon his ears.

I gripped the metal drink bottle tight in my free hand and crept forwards. He hadn't noticed me yet and I was determined to keep it that way. As I approached, I made out the images on the monitors in front of him. He was staring intently at one of them, the cafeteria. A brawl had broken out, guards were swarming over ten or twenty prisoners who seemed to be jeering and yelling at one man. Vans stood in the middle of it all, laughing as the guards pulled him away, shouting back at the other prisoners.

I was surprised to see the man paying attention; all the other times I had visited as a child, the person in the control room would usually be playing a game on one of the computers or stuffing their faces with fast food.

Only when I was so close to the man that my breath stirred the hairs upon his head did I make my move against him. Drawing my arm backwards in one fluid motion, I struck down upon his head with the edge of the bottle. Mist lightly sprayed my face as the man slumped out of his chair and onto the ground, a mess of limbs. If I had hit him in the right place, he would have been knocked out for at least twenty minutes.

I crouched and checked his pulse, thankful to find he was alive, and then wiped down the drink bottle to remove my fingerprints. Hallway through the process, I realises how silly it was and dropped the bottle; I was helping a man escape a prison. Fingerprints on a bloody bottle hardly mattered in comparison.

I pulled the man's body out from beneath its awkward position and dragged him over to the corner, where he wouldn't be seen from the doorway. As strong as I'd like to pretend I was, it took longer than I thought it would. By the time he was out of direct sight, I had about ten minutes to deactivate the locking system before the man woke up in a fit of rage.

Sinking into the office chair, I pulled the paper, which held the code from within my pocket. The devices on the desk were bright and confusing; they all looked the same, and I only had the correct code for one of them.

I spent the next five minutes searching through the different screens to find the one I was looking for. Just as I ready to smash something, I found the one I was looking for. As I typed the digit into the device, it made a collection of beeping noises and the screen flashed red. For a moment, I panicked, thinking I was caught. But then bold black words appeared in the red, 'DEACTIVATED'.

Except, that wasn't the only thing that appeared. The one thing happened that I did not anticipate; the switch had a timer. And in that moment, I had five minutes to get Vans out of his cell before the electronic switch to his cell was activated once again. 

-

-

-

-

-

Hey guys! I'm sorry this is such a short update, but it is a necessary filler chapter that has to be in the book for the whole escape process to work. I will update again soon, and I originally would have posted this as a part of a double update, but the stats of this book show a drop in interest when I do double posts :(

Im so thankful for the 5k! thanks so much for everyone who has been reading and supporting this book. I know it isn't the best book on this site by far and it has its fair share of grammar errors, so I really am grateful for all your love and support. 

There is only a few more chapters left! 

Are you guys excited? Cause I sure am!

Ps. As the plot continues, I am aware that some elements of this story are unrealistic. But I will ask you to remember this is a work of fiction, not fact. Just try to enjoy the book as it is, and all will come together in the end. 

PPs. Can you let me know if I ever double up on serial killer quotes? It's hard to keep track of all of them and I know I've done a Dahmer quote before. 

PPs. I know this chapter might be weird for some of you because there is no dialogue, but I promise there is lots in the next chapter :) 

xx Charli