I spent the next few hours being shown around Pandora, and instructed on various duties that I would be required to perform as a guard. I was to stand at doors that no prisoner would ever try to get through, walk along corridors of glowing crystal in which I never saw another soul (metaphorically…and literally), and to prepare food. When this was for the other guards, I would just be assisting Malcolm, who considered himself a gourmet chef, and had handled the mess hall for over five hundred years. When this was for the prisoners, it was only for the human ones. They could not die during their imprisonment, even if they were mortal. The angels wouldn’t let anyone duck their sentence so easily, but they weren’t about to torture them with starvation. As the day went on, I heard some of the names of the inmates and I began to see why this place was needed. I couldn’t picture any prison on Earth holding dragons, and here they were in minimum security. Luckily they seemed happy to sleep.

  Maisie introduced me to groups of the guards whenever we saw them. They all wore the same uniform Maisie wore, and were perfectly happy to chat despite being on duty. While talking to them I learnt the average amount of time guards serve was between fifty to a hundred years before they moved on. There were a handful of full timers, but of the more than two hundred guards, very few like Maisie and Lance had served for more than a thousand years, and Maisie the only one sitting at a number over two thousand.

  The other guards seemed nice enough, if old fashioned. One lit up a cigarette and didn’t find my comment that ‘those things will kill you’ particularly amusing. A particularly short man with wispy, thinning black hair named Richard was updating a duty roster in what might be considered a break room, but might also be a larger than average cleaning station. When he was done he showed me my schedule. I wasn’t required to stand at doors, walk down corridors, or prepare food until tomorrow. They kept a day and night cycle going since it helped with “the whole sanity thing”, as he’d put it in a nasally American accent. Instead, I was encouraged to spend today exploring and getting to know the place. I didn’t.

  As the day went on, I’d begun to droop, getting more and more exhausted, until I was as drained as if I’d run a mile on an empty stomach, in the rain. It had been one thing after another since I’d ‘left home’, and I’m not even certain it was any later than mid afternoon to me yet. WIth Maisie’s help, I found a light meal of chicken and mash in the mess and found my room in the barracks. I found some sleeping clothes in a wardrobe at the back of the room, and settled down to sleep. As tired as I was, however, it was a long time before I managed to drift off. The strange, static filled air made switching my brain off difficult. I lay awake wondering about what was happening back in the land of the living. I worried for my mother. She relied on me, and now that I was gone, I had no idea what was going to happen to her. Had she been told I was dead? Would she realise what that even meant? It was a long while before I finally slept.

  I couldn’t tell how much time had passed when I woke, but it felt like I’d gotten a full night's rest. After sleepily staring at it for a few moments, I finally changed into the crisp fresh uniform that I’d tossed to the ground before getting into bed. It fit me perfectly. That didn’t surprise me, though the shoes fitting my feet exactly was a new feeling. It was like I’d already spent months wearing them in. I found a few spare uniforms in the wardrobe when I put the clothes I’d slept in back, and tucked my regular clothes in with them as well. I didn’t notice anything wrong yet.

  I eyed myself in the mirror, noting that the jacket really suited me, why didn’t I wear this sort of stuff while I was alive? Should I maybe cut my hair to a more appropriate length? I was thinking about who to ask about the barber situation in Purgatory, when the back of my mind began prodding at me to pay attention. Acting like a man with a rubber neck, I looked around my room sharply, searching for danger, but I saw nothing. I heard nothing, I felt… nothing. My room in the barracks was far from Pandora, so the energy in the air had been weaker than it had been out in the courtyard or inside the prison. There it had felt like I was standing next to a power station, while here it was more akin to pulling off a woollen jumper. Still, it had been enough to keep me awake even as I lay exhausted. I thought it was weaker now, but no, that was just goosebumps, and the hairs on the back of my neck sticking up. It was completely gone. The faint, ever so slight hum I’d heard in the air, and the tingling against my skin, had vanished. Hadn’t that been the power that kept the prison working— and the prisoners inside? I slowly pushed my door open and found the corridor as empty as it had been the day before. With a great amount of trepidation and vast quantities of fear, I began to make my way in the direction of Pandora.

  I didn’t pass anyone on the way. That itself wasn’t immediately surprising, Maisie had said the barracks weren’t often used. Off duty guards normally went to the common room, or the library, or to the gym to train and fight. I still needed sleep because my brain thought it needed sleep, it was what it was used to. The guards who had been here a few years had, from what I’d been told, mostly taught themselves not to need sleep, and some even took that to food too. They didn’t have bodies anymore, why would they need to do such unnecessary things? I didn’t know if I’d ever go that far. Even with the knowledge that this place was normally empty however, passing empty room after empty room was deeply unsettling.

  I reached the false wall to the courtyard, and the latent energy in the air had yet to reassert itself. I passed through the barrier (slowly this time) and found myself in total darkness. My stomach was suddenly heavy, and my mouth felt dry. The static hadn’t returned but a tingling began at the back of my neck, ghostly fingers on my skin. The light emanating from the centre of the dark crystal structure was all but gone, with just a tiny amount visible deep in the core of the prison. I slowly regarded the serene, intimidating darkness all around me, but with no sources of light I couldn’t see anything. Purgatory needed to catch up and get itself some flashlights. I suddenly missed my phone’s camera flash. I stretched out my hand to my full arms length away from me, and couldn’t even make out my fingers in the darkness. I had no idea what was going on. I hadn’t been told anything like this was going to happen. I took in a breath to yell out for help, but at the last moment hesitated. Something told me that was a bad idea. The lizard part of my mind calmly insisted that stealth was key right now. Stealth and knowledge. I needed to find someone who knew what was going on.

  I reached behind me and found the solid wall next to the portal, then used that to orientate myself. The courtyard was circular, and if the barracks were at the six o’clock position, and the portcullis leading to Pandora at the twelve, then the mess hall would be at three o’clock. I began to follow the wall in the mess hall’s direction, walking very slowly with one hand out in front of me, and the other running along the smooth dark grey bricks. Hopefully someone there would know what was going on, and if not then it was now Friday, and I’d been told Friday was surf and turf day. Apparently Malcom would often commandeer the guards only television in the common room to watch cooking shows, and no one objected to him learning another trick or two. Those who had gradually phased out eating were not the types who needed to sit in front of the box all day anyway.

  I slowly shuffled through the darkness, gritting my teeth as gravel crunching loudly underneath my feet with each hesitant step, until I got close enough to a door to see it, materialising out of the void. Breaking into a dash at the last moment I careened into the door, slamming it open, and what had been the gentle murmur of many voices ended abruptly. The eyes of what looked to be the entire company of guards stared at me in utter quiet. As I stared back, I noticed more than a few had drawn swords, axes, pistols or other such weaponry. The tableau held for a frozen instant. The guards all stared at me, notably not putting their weapons away.

  A man with shoulder length, dirty blonde hair tied sloppily in a loose tail pushed through the crowd to reach me. Standing taller than me at around six and a half feet tall, Lance was built like the proverbial brick shithouse. He had the beginnings of deep frown lines across his face, which despite his years had clearly once been beautiful. When I’d caught a glimpse of him yesterday, he'd worn the uniform of the guard like a glove. Now he wore it like a symbol. He stopped once he saw me, and stared with narrowed eyes along with the others. At least the long sword at his side remained sheathed. A few seconds later Maisie made it to the front of the group as well, and a look of shock crossed her face upon seeing me. It vanished quickly and she strode up to me, grabbed a hold of my uniform sleeve and began to pull me through the crowd.

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  “Maisie!” Lance barked.

  Without responding or stopping, Masie looked back at Lance and jerked her head at him to follow. I looked as well and breathed a sigh of relief as Lance gestured at the guards holding weapons to put them away. He followed behind us and we three reached an empty table at the back, far from the others. I sat down on one side and Lance and Maisie sat on the other. He shot a look over his shoulder, and the rest of the guards looked away. A subdued chatter gradually picked back up.

  By this point I had absolutely no idea what was going on and was convinced that I’d done something wrong. I’d somehow hit a switch and turned Pandora's lights off. The crystal was allergic to me and I’d have to go. Each worry I came up with was a little more stupid than the last one. I shuffled in my seat and did my best to lock eyes with Maisie and Lance, both of whom stared at me with a look that I didn’t immediately recognise. When I did, the fear that had begun to ebb away returned. They looked at me with suspicion.

  “Where have you been?” Lance asked. His deep sounding voice could fill the entire room with little effort if he wished, now it was barely more than a murmur.

  “Asleep,” I replied, shrugging. “In the barracks.”

  A grunt escaped Maisie’s mouth. A grunt from a nine year old was new, even if she was about twenty-one centuries older than me.

  “We don’t need sleep,” Lance countered, giving the girl next to him a glare as though to say ‘this is going to be your fault, isn’t it?’ Maisie stared back at him, her look saying ‘so what if it is? Shut up and get a haircut.’

  I didn’t know what to say in response that wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot. Maisie didn’t seem to care about annoying Lance, but I found him intimidating. Still, I struggled through it and tried my hand at asking a question.

  “What happened? Why has the light in Pandora gone so dim?”

  Lance and Maisie both spoke at the same time. Lance said: “We’re asking the questions'', while Maisie said: “You don’t know?” They shifted their glares off me, and onto each other.

  “What I said was technically a question,” Maisie said, staring down the taller (younger) guard. Lance sighed before looking back at me.

  “It’s Mason, yes?” I nodded. “Mason, there’s been an escape. A mass escape.” The words seemed to hurt him to say, and I couldn’t blame him. If any single one of the prisoners in Pandora escaped, I would’ve panicked. I don’t know why I hadn’t. “Can anyone vouch for your... nap?”

  I certainly hoped no one could, that would mean they’d been standing in my room watching me sleep. I turned to Maisie. “You did recommend I sleep, and you walked me back to my room in the barracks.”

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “But that was almost a whole day ago Daniel.”

  That took me aback. I’d been asleep a whole day? I looked between the two of them sharply. “I’ve been awake maybe half an hour. I can’t have slept an entire day.”

  “I agree,” said Lance softly, his eyes doing their best to melt mine.

  Maise was quick to chime in. “Daniel, there hasn’t been an escape since Pandora was formed thousands and thousands of years ago. It’s been tried. The archangel Michael once voluntarily locked himself up for a month with the sole duty that he do everything in his power to escape*. He couldn’t get out, and there weren’t half as many prisoners to use as batteries then as there are now. Then you show up and less than a day later there’s a mass breakout. That and no one can confirm where you were. I don’t know how you would’ve let them loose, but you have to admit it seems suspicious. Can you understand our point of view?”

  *That was millennia ago and he still has yet to catch up on missed paperwork. At least it is not my department.

  I did understand, hell I would’ve thought the same if I had been sitting where they were right now. I took a look over Lance’s giant shoulders at the other guards at their tables. Far too many were still shooting glances at me for my own comfort. A chill ran down my spine, then back up again for good measure. I was going to have to talk my way out of suspected treason, for a job that I not only didn’t fully understand, but also hadn’t even started. I’d barely gotten used to being dead and I was going to somehow get myself executed. I looked down to find myself picking my own nails, something I did when I was nervous but trying not to show it. “Where are they?” I asked, looking between the two veterans. “Where did the prisoners go?”

  Lance looked for a second as though he was about to repeat his line about how he’d be asking the questions. “We don’t know,” he said a moment later, his tone bereft of emotion. “They just vanished once they got out.” A momentary pause later he added, “They could be anywhere.”

  I looked between Maisie and Lance, but neither of them seemed to want to ask anything else. The buzzing chatter of the guards behind them seemed to highlight the growing silence at this table, growing to become a solid force in the air between, then around the three of us. Our own little bubble that the noise from the rest of the hall couldn’t breach. I thought about what Lance had said. Holy crap. They could’ve been out in the courtyard with me. What would’ve happened if I’d walked into that darkness? If I’d shouted into that void, what would’ve answered?

  “There were thirteen guards in Pandora when it happened. We can’t find them. We’re assuming they’re dead.”

  Maisie’s words shattered the silence, and I let them hang in the air before I stupidly added, “Well, we’re already dead."

  Lance gave a good impression of Maisie’s ‘are you an idiot?’ look, before his face returned to its usual stone-like state. He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “We can still… our souls can be destroyed by something powerful enough.”

  “And I’m guessing,” I said, meeting his gaze, “that the inmates of the prison…?”

  He nodded. “It would be quicker to list the handful that didn’t have that kind of power.”

  “Daniel,” Maisie said hesitantly, as my mind imagined my very sense of self being destroyed. “We normally don’t do this unless people volunteer it, but I want to know how much we can trust you. So I’m going to ask you some questions about your life.

  Lance shot her a look as though she’d used the word bescumber to describe his scent. From that and the shift in her tone I reasoned that this must be a taboo subject around the guard. I come from an industry where not asking questions was highly encouraged. Either way not answering was only going to lower my stock with these two. I nodded.

  Maisie cleared her throat and shifted awkwardly. She seemed to be choosing her words very carefully. “Okay, so the reason you are here is likely because you’re probably a good person, though you didn’t do a lot of good in life. It’s rarely the other way around.” Lance shifted his weight on the bench but didn’t add anything. Note to self, do not ask Lance probing questions about his past. Maise didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just pretended. “Would you tell us what you did in life?”

  I thought about being vague and difficult, perhaps saying something like ‘video games and drinking’, but decided to go with the truth. I didn’t think they’d know what video games were anyway.

  “I worked for a guy who wasn't exactly on the up and up with the law,” I waffled. “I stole cars for him. Nothing fancy. Just things that could be used for a job before being scrapped. Worked the counter at a business he ran to hide stuff and clean some of the money. Whatever needed to be done really.” It felt weird to be telling someone this. I’d only had one serious girlfriend and even she hadn’t known. She just thought I was working a dead end job at an arcade.

  “Cars?” Lance asked.

  “I’ve read about them,” Maisie said. “Carts that move on their own. No need for anything to push or pull them.” Close enough. I nodded.

  “So you’re a thief?” Lance asked, but he didn’t wait for a response. “All that we’ve learnt is that he’s untrustworthy and most likely a liar.”

  “Who here is perfect?” Maisie said chidingly. “Sure it’s not great, but if he’s here then he's likely a good person underneath. Or maybe he stole cars for a good reason.”

  “He just said his employer was a criminal, like him.”

  “Yes, but we don’t know the whole story, he...”

  The pair carried on between themselves as I zoned them out. I didn’t particularly want to get into my reasoning, and regretted what I’d already said. I cast my mind around for something to distract them. I thought of the faint light in the centre of Pandora that I’d seen outside earlier.

  “How many prisoners are left?” I asked the pair, cutting Lance off from responding to something Maisie said about his own past.

  “One,” Lance said flatly.

  My jaw all but hit the table. There had been thousands of inmates “Just one?”

  “Yes,” Maisie said. “Raphael is with it now.”

  I paused for her to continue, but she didn’t. I looked over at Lance but he wasn’t making eye contact. Before the silence could bubble up again I asked the air between the eldest guards, “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Maisie and Lance shared a look, before the ancient child turned back to me. “It wasn't a prisoner before the outbreak. We don’t know how it got here, or why.”

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