Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25389303-20190127200805/@comment-25389303-20190203170832

With the exception of the sheets of ice that seemed to cover every damned surface, the standard cells of Frostbite Asylum seemed remarkably similar to what Arthur had imagined a normal prison looking like. Every corridor led to more and more steel-wrought doors, and behind them, the sounds of sobbing and whimpering could often be heard. Dreaded curiousity pushed Arthur towards opening one of the cells, but as he reached for his security card, he stayed his hand. As much as he wanted proof of the warden's mistreatment of their 'patients', a part of him prefered the blissfulness of ignorance.

Just as he was struggling with his conflicting desires, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming towards him. Caught in an empty corridor with no means of hiding, Arthur decided it best to pretend to be an on-duty guard and simply stood still as two uniformed men walked towards him.

"Helldrix's lack of progress remains a concern, sergeant. I was expecting tangible results by now."

The words came from a man who appeared to be in his late fifties. While his associate was dressed for combat, he instead donned a burgundy uniform more fitting for a high-ranking military officer of some kind. The deep red appeared as a similar match to the dark streaks running through his greying hair.

"I can assure you, general, he is working to his full potential. But I must remind you, his expertise is in electronics, not medicine. It is slowing down the process..."

This time it was the sergeant who spoke, whom Arthur recognised as the iron-jawed man from before.

"I was led to believe by our young doctor that I would be in the possession of an army by now, Sergeant Stormhound. Instead, I merely have a few cybernetically-enhanced psychopaths that lack the discipline for organised combat."

Arthur remained as still as a statue as the two advancing figures edged closer and closer at their unnervingly slow pace.

"Controlling the patients has proven a challenge, sir...but I believe that with enough encouragement they can be convinced to join our cause."

The way in which iron-jaw said the word 'encouragement' made Arthur shudder slightly inside. What could be worse than the treatment the prisoners are already being subjected to?

"My patience wears thin, sergeant. It won't be long until this facility is compromised. And when it is, I don't want traces of our involvement left behind. But before that happens, I want actual soldiers."

Just as the two were passing by Arthur, the older man suddenly turned and pressed the back of a gloved hand against his subordinate's chest, stopping him.

"A war is coming, Ulric," the officer told the younger man in a low voice, serious enough to make Arthur's blood run colder than the ice around him. "And when it arrives, it will be at our doorstep. When that time comes..." The officer suddenly turned his gaze on Arthur, freezing him on the spot.

"...I expect everyone to play their part."

With those closing words, the man turned and continued down the corridor, arms crossed behind his back in a confident manner. Iron-jaw - or Ulric, as he had come to know - stayed behind a moment to look at the awestruck guard with an expression of mild confusion, before hurrying away in the direction of his superior, leaving Arthur alone in the frozen hall once again.

And in those following moments, he felt colder than any occupant of Frostbite Asylum.