Depression is like a prison, where the body is a cell. Escaping it becomes an obsession when quarantined from the rest of the world in silent pain. Put on a happy face, make amends and try to walk out. That's hard to do when the bars are locked tight. Sometimes though, amends can't be made, and sometimes the bars need to be locked tight. The point of no return.
The point of no return was a place where Billy Bob dwelled, perhaps it was a place where he had always been. Even in his youth he was deep in depression, as he was always oversized, large, awkward, and ridiculed for it by other boys. Unchecked sadness was like a bomb trapped in a shell, waiting to be dropped, to ignite and destroy everything that came in its path. That sadness had devolved to anger and aggression. At first he would only do things to hurt himself, but hurting others was much more pleasing with the way he coped, scapegoating his pain onto others that didn't deserve it. It was his weak release. He had mastered the art of directing his pain onto to others, with jealousy, rage, and violence. Falling further into misery and darkness.
It was April 18, 1995 and Billy was exactly where he needed to be, in a federal lock up in Colorado; alone, depressed, and awaiting execution. The cell block that would one day be known as "Bomber's Row." The facilities had just recently been built, the place was shiny and new. It had been built to house special cases like Billy, that were on the brink of becoming pale ones. The Alcatraz of the Rockies.
"Get the fuck up inmate. You have a visitor."
Billy had a good idea who it would be. He had no real family. It would be his attorney, to discuss the appeals process. Billy didn't want anything to do with that though. He wanted death as swift as possible. He wanted an end to his misery. Complete darkness, then into the void is what he craved. Life in a cage, was no life for him.
The guards had moved him into a secure room of privilege, where he could discuss legal matters unencumbered. In the room sitting, was a man with a flat smile. It wasn't his usual attorney, but he had a familiar face. He had acquainted Mr. Richard Labble before, somewhere in the past.
Before Billy even finished seating himself, he made it clear. "I'm not interested in the appeals process."
"I'm not here to talk about the appeal process, Mr. Bob. I'm here to discuss your freedom."
Billy was dumbfounded. "How? Don't fuck with me."
Richard Labble then handed him a book. "Turn to page 22."
Billy did as told, and saw that the middle of the book had been carved out. Inside was what looked to be a small toy gun made of clear see through plastic. "Is this real?" Asked Billy.
"Oh it's very real, made special for situations just like yours. Use it wisely because you only have two rounds. One to show them you mean business, and one to threat with. So be wise. Tomorrow morning there will be a prison riot, you will use the gun to get out just before it kicks off at 9:02 am. There will be 1979 Volkswagen Beetle in the parking lot. The keys will be in the ignition."
"Even if I do get out, everyone will be looking for me..."
"Not tomorrow. Tomorrow something big is going to happen. Every news station, and all law enforcement will be focussed on Oklahoma City. This something is going to make me younger and even more powerful. But that's not for you to worry about. No one will be looking for you."
Billy was confused but excited at the same time. Escape sounded like a drug to him. "Why are you doing this for me? What's the catch?"
"I look out for my flock. You will take the Beetle to exit 22, where another vehicle with keys will be waiting for you. Inside the glove box will be a note with a name on it. The name on that note is a degenerate drug addict, who is very dangerous to our movement. It is important to us that you end him, and that no one ever finds his body. We also have a couple of guards on the payroll that are going to help you escape, so this will be partly an inside job. The guard that is going to come for you in the morning is with us. You will take him hostage, but do not kill him, but do kill any other guards that get in your way. Make an example out of them."
Billy nodded. "Will do. I will gladly kill any elites and their henchmen that want to keep the white man down."
"I know you will Billy, that's why I chose you. A beautiful big man such as yourself, is too important to go to waste. Don't let it go to waste Billy."
The meeting had ended, and Richard Labble was now getting into a black limousine. Inside the limousine waiting, was that billionaire CEO. The one from that major health insurance company. The one the coroner had spoke of that paid him off.
"Are you sure this is the wisest choice?" Asked the CEO, as he sipped from a cocktail, feeling cozy, feeling safe. Feeling untouchable.
"Yes." Said Labble. "Billy is the right man for the job. He is very special man. A giant of a man, not many like him, perhaps one of the last of his kind. With the cure lost, your profits will be protected, and my kind will be able to feed."
The thought of Labble's kind made the CEO salivate. The idea of having it all with no end was the ultimate prize. "All the money in the world means nothing if I can't live forever. I want to be like you, when will you be able make good on that?"
"I don't have the strength as of yet, but tomorrow that is all going to change. Something very special is going to happen tomorrow morning, and I will be fifty years younger again. I will be much more powerful, and we can begin the process, once the Essence has been eliminated."
The limo pulled onto the highway and passed a green sign with white letters. "Oklahoma City 666 Miles."
It was early the next morning at Club Fed Colorado and the inmates were having a head count, getting on the line ready to walk it for morning chow, but not all of them. Billy wasn't allowed to eat chow with the other inmates. He was an ogre of a man, and a violent man. He was a man with nothing to lose and not to be trusted around the other men. The staff were afraid of him too. They would often flip coins to see who would have the unlucky pleasure of bringing him his morning slop. But not this day. Today the guard Marc Enilgus had volunteered for the job, and without objection. He was the inside man on the job, and his job was to play Billy's hostage. He was promised a reward for his soul. An anonymous life of luxury, a private beach somewhere, where he could disappear and never be seen again.
Marc was still very scared, and very nervous. He wasn't nervous about getting caught though. Billy was unpredictably violent and nearly eight feet tall, and his arms were the size of a well built man's thighs. They were bulging and tight. Marc could be crushed at any given minute.
Marc clanked the food tray on the bars. "I got your morning chow here, inmate."
Billy immediately pulled the plastic gun out from the gutted book where it had been hidden, and pointed it at the guard. "Open the gate slug... or you get slugged." Said Billy.
He opened the gate and whispered. "Hey go easy... please I'm on your..."
Before he could finish his sentence Billy picked him up one handed by the throat. "I'm not going to kill you, but you are still a shit guard, and I will if I have to. Got it?"
Marc nodded in agreement, as Billy released his throat, droppin him to the ground now gripping the back of the guard's collar.
Another guard took notice from down the corridor. "Hey!" He pulled out his baton. "Put him down you maggot inmate!"
Billy then holstered his gun into the waistband of his prison jumpsuit. The guard took a swing, but it was futile. Billy grabbed the baton in mid swing and out of the guard's grasp. All while pulling him in. He then palmed the guard's face like a basketball, pulling him off the ground. He squeezes as hard as he could, as the guard's feet dangled. The vein in his forehead was the first to pop, and it ruptured, squirting blood onto Billy's face. He smiled and licked it from his lips. He kept squeezing as the guard's skull began to make popping noises, like popcorn popping in a microwave. The head started to crack like a watermelon would. Brain matter oozed out and splattered onto the bars and floor. It looked like raw hamburger meat and smelled like blue cheese or rancid butter, coming from a rotten coconut.
He dropped the dead guard, who's face now appeared to be like smashed in pumpkin on Halloween night. He looked to the floor and grabbed some of the brain burger into his hand. "Anyone else want to come to my BBQ?"
Another guard came at him with a taser landing a shot directly onto his chest. This did not phaze Billy though, not even a little. He yanked at the lines, pulling that guard into his clutches. He looked at the brain burger that was in the palm of his hand, and then looked to Marc, who was now beyond regrets.
"I don't want to try it, do you want to try it?" He said to Marc.
Marc shook his head and began to vomit. The smell was one he wouldn't soon forget.
"I know let's get Mikey to try it, he'll eat anything!" He then began to shove the brain matter into the other guard's mouth pushing his jaws together making him chew it. It was like he was playing with a rag doll. "He likes it! He likes it! Hey Mikey!" He then pulled the gun from his waistband and fired one of his two shots right into the head, ending him in a second.
By this time the inmates were rioting in the mess hall, as orchestrated, and all hands were being called in. Billy only had one round left in his weapon, but he didn't need to use it. The other guards that were left, trembled in fear not wanting anything to do with a fight with him. Not after witnessing what they had seen. The gates were all opened for him. Fires were now being lit in the mess hall, while elsewhere in Oklahoma bombs were bursting.
Billy Bob, and the guard Marc Enilgus were now in the parking lot. They made their way to the red VW Beetle, that had the key in the ignition. He drove out of the prison with nod a from the guard at the gate. He was another inside man, and there would be no chase. Billy was once again a free man, and there would be hell to pay.
They took exit 22 as instructed by the pale one Labble, where there was another vehicle in wait, at the rest stop. Again the keys were in the ignition. This was where Billy and Marc would part ways. Marc was relieved to be finished with it. The feeling he felt was greater than at his own birth when he had taken his first breath into the unknown. He now breathed down another path, a path of no return.
Once alone, Billy opened the glove box and pulled out a note and read it out loud. "Alan Dushell." The Deuce. "Destroy his mind. Bury him where no one will find. In the pines, where the sun never shines."
It was now 9:11am, and there was a dark energy in the air. That building in Oklahoma had been crushed, not even the children were spared. Billy soaked it in as all of his bad feeling were taken from him, into that blast, and into the void. He was free again, and the air tasted so sweet.
Elsewhere Richard Labble feasted on the tears of the lost and the cries from the children. The broken hearts that would never be mended. The pain that would never be soothed. He hadn't feasted like this in a long time and now appeared to be like a man of only twenty years.