Strigoi

As the days progressed, one thing in particular struck the men as very odd. There was absolutely no contact with any security staff. All directives were issued by the woman on the PA. Failure to comply with any directive led to the delivery of an electrical shock.

They began to experiment with ways to undermine security in the hopes of discovering a way or avenue of escape.

Hector brought up the old school way of circumventing the electronic cell door locks by stuffing the female receptacle for the locking mechanism with compacted wet toilet paper. Jack had Hector try it out not just to see if it would work, but also to see whether or not it drew any heat. It did work and the Mexican wasn’t shocked, so they did it on all their cells door with the exception of the Night Raver.

Jack went to visit Mordred, knocking on his the metal cell door. No answer. He rapped again, a little harder, louder. The door opened, the pale nearly white Mordred stood there, cold eyes meeting Jack’s one good eye. Jack had to admit, Mordred’s appearance certainly fit the reputation. Tall and impossibly slender with light colored hair, skin pasty white, eyes pale blue and sunken enhancing his high cheekbones and giving him a morbid aristocratic countenance.

“Can I come in and talk?” inquired Jack, a little on edge but suitably confident he could handle himself if things got out of hand.

Mordred stepped back and extended a hand by way of invitation. “By all means,” he offered.

“Jack Taylor,” he said, introducing himself and giving the other man an informal nod.

“Also called One Eyed Jack, or Smiling Jack, on account of the scar,” replied Mordred in a baritone voice, tracing his right index finger down the right side of his own face as his lips parted into a smile.

Nodding, Jack smiled, “One in the same. They also say you think you’re a vampire,” he asserted. “Is that true?”

“Tell me, do you believe in vampires Smiling Jack? Rapacious bloodsucking monsters driven by an unquenchable thirst,” he inquired, an amused expression on his slender pale face.

“Nope,” he answered directly, “I believe there’s enough evil in the world without making shit up.”

Mordred laughed heartily and shook his head. “Well then,” he conceded, “Given such adamant certainty, I must certainly be no fiend of the night.”

Grinning, Jack replied, “Plus, if you were, I don’t think you would still be here.”

Mordred smiled, “In truth, I suffer from a condition called erythopietic protoporphyria, essentially a ferrochelalatase deficiency,” he explained.

Jack blinked, possessing not a clue what Mordred had just said.

“I’m allergic to certain wavelengths of light radiation,” he simplified. “Like sunlight.”

“Oh,” Jack acknowledged, nodding his head. “What about the bloodlust?”

“There are certain mental disturbances associated with the disorder,” he answered, “But certainly you haven’t wandered in here to know if I am nosferatu?”

“I came to see where your loyalties lie, we all got bagged and sent here involuntarily, including you and the rest of us have been able to shelve past grievances and start exploring options right now,” Jack said, blunt.

Mordred regarded him a moment, studying the lean but powerfully built man, “What has your assembled brain trust come up with so far?” he asked, inviting conversation.

“Well, we know how to keep the cell doors from locking, sort of a variant of the groove patch trick they used to use on sliding bar doors back in the day, but surprisingly it works on these modern doors too and the bulls haven’t been around to undo what we’ve done,” he offered.

Mordred nodded his head slowly, pursing his lips.

“Plus, we’ve not seen hide nor hair of a screw in almost ten days,” he added.

“I noticed this as well, leading me to speculate the situation,” he stated.

“And?” prompted Jack.

Mordred shook his head, “I am at a loss. You are aware that we have all been relocated?” he inquired.

Jack nodded, “There have been too many things not quite right,” he replied.

“Like?”

“The cameras in the smoke detectors are fake. They weren’t originally, they are now. Not sure why. All textiles are coarser, sheets, blankets, clothes, like they’re made of a looser weave, little things. Hector’s missing tag. The walls used to be cinder blocks, now they’re made of some high tech plastic. The list goes on,” he supplied, spreading his hands.

“The walls are made of heat and impact resistant polycarbonate,” Mordred clarified.

Jack nodded, “We can scratch it, but it’s impossible to dig into it,” he said.

“I appreciate the candor of your approach, open, disclosive and respectful,” he expressed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jack queried.

“Others in the past have not been quite so cordial, much to their chagrin,” he stated coldly.

Jack wasn’t intimidated, not that he got the feeling Mordred was trying to do so, but he heard the stories of how the slender man had savaged some of those brazen enough to make a move on him. “So what’s it going to be? United we stand and you been running solo here, so I’m wondering if you maybe won’t come out and make nice with the others,” he suggested.

Mordred smiled, expression almost rictal, “I do believe I have something to offer your band of merry misfits,” he said.

Jack tipped his head back, a gesture of askance, “What’s that?”

“I know a couple of things,” he said, being cryptic, sly grin on his face.

“Enlighten me,” Jack urged, curious to learn what it was Mordred believed he could bring to the table.

“Well, for starters, I know how to remove the collars,” he offered, a small smile playing at the corners of his thin lipped mouth.

Jack blinked, “Really?” he asked, surprised by the claim. Was it possible? No one really knew Mordred’s background or really who he was or what skills he might possess.

Mordred nodded slowly, confidently. “Undoubtedly,” he assured.

Word on Mordred he was insane, like bonkers crazy and Jack was cautious about investing in the notion in case it was a red herring borne of insanity, “What about breaching the wall, you got that figured out too?” Jack japed.

Mordred grinned, a creepy expression on his gaunt face, “While not nearly as certain, I do possess a viable idea which should make it possible, now that we’re all working together,” he offered.