People were referring to it as a portion of Hell on Earth. The only prison to now exist after mankind suffered the effects of World-War 3. Society, having had billions of people on Earth, now saw a rough estimate of 20 Million people. The scarcity of food was a result of the high levels of radiation affecting all food sources. Man, being a creature of reason, believed that to maintain order was still vital for his existence. Criminal offenders were
punished in the most inhumane conditions never before seen.

Max was such a victim to the barbarous conditions of the prison. His offence was stealing, and not being able to undergo any form of trial, his sentence was straight to prison. There, the insane warden Joker, as he was called by everyone, ruled with a tyrannical hand.

Max, having spoken back to Warden Joker, saw himself facing punishment in the cell of solitude. The cell Max was in had a jagged floor and in addition, there was no bed or toilet in the cell. Solitude was normally the breaking point of most prisoners. The harmonious rhythm of the clicking of shoe soles gradually became louder and louder. A whistling tone of ‘Mary had a little lamb’ let Max know all too well who was approaching him.

“I brought you lunch, Vermin,” said Warden Joker cynically. He stood wearing his full black uniform and holding the bowl of Max’s food. Warden Joker’s appearance was scary but somewhat comical. He had a very pale face, blue hair, maroon eyeliner and gold contact lenses. However, one was never to assume the warden to be some sort of clown.

“Let me guess, it’s cockroaches or maybe rats for me?” said Max while approaching the sardonic smiling Warden.

“Oh no, no, no, no Maxy boy, what I got you here is a special. Consider it a gift from me to you,” said Warden Joker as he placed Max’s lunch on the ground of his cell.

Max picked up the bowl and quickly dropped it in horror.

“Heh! Heh! Heh!” roared Warden Joker. “That’s right, you fool,” said Warden Joker continuing his mocking laughter.

He had served Max several human eyes and tongues. His ruthless and senile behaviour was further shown of this act towards Max.

“Would love to stay and chat but Maxy boxy, I’m a busy man. Will see you tomorrow, who knows what I’ll bring then,”
Warden Joker waved before exiting the area.

“Hey blue hair, the toilet’s clogged,” said an inmate as Warden Joker was doing his supervising rounds in the general inmate populace.

“Oh, I see that, sure is terrible now. What do we do about this?” asked Warden Joker while looking at the inmate.

“What do you mean by that, you blue-haired imbec…” the inmate was cut short as Warden Joker gave him a violent swing of his iron club against the bottom jaw.

“Why don’t you see what the problem is and tell me what it is?” said the Warden as he picked up the bleeding inmate. He then shoved the inmate’s head into the clogged toilet.

“Well boy! See anything! If so, what?” screamed Warden Joker all the while the inmate was struggling to breathe.

The inmate flapped his arms until slowly losing the vigour in his efforts to get air. The inmate remained motionless with his head still left in the clogged toilet.

“Damn idiot,” said Warden Joker to himself before his attention was deviated to the screams of yet another inmate.

“What is it 442?” demanded the Warden.

“Hey ugly eyes, listen you know my name is Rhys?”

“Right sorry Mr Rhys,” mocked Warden Joker while mimicking in an obedient manner and nodding his head in agreement
to what Rhys was saying.

“Now for the last time please give me a damn book to read, Goldie,” said Rhys in frustration.

“Yes sir!” continued Warden Joker mocking Rhys.

“Here’s your order Mr Rhys,” said the Warden taking out a piece of skin from his pocket. “I hope you like biblical texts,” said Warden Joker as Rhys held the skin in his hand which contained a prayer of some kind.

“That’s correct 44… I mean Rhys, courtesy of your brother, you now own the first ever skin book. Presented by yours truly, Joker,” the Warden posed victoriously when seeing how distraught and crushed Rhys felt while looking at the skin of his brother.

Warden Joker continued his duties, knowing that he had absolute power and authority poisoned him. His persona and psychotic attitude could be attributed to all that he saw during World War 3. Nonetheless, his evil reign and disgust on humanity would never cease. The uncertainty of his thoughts was the same with his actions.


Tell us: What makes people act cruelly against others?