Dylan Sommers
It would appear to have been hours for Dylan sitting down on the floor in the same position, with his head tilted to the front and hair curtaining his face. A pneumatic hiss made him to jerk his head slightly. As the wall in front of him turned transparent, Dylan slowly craned his neck back with his hair pulling back, slowly showing up his face; the prison time has taken a toll on his looks and his body. The interrogator was back, with a smug look on his face. On his left hand, he held a sealed padded envelope and a folder with "Confidential" stamped on it. He sat down on the chair and fixed his eyes on the frail prisoner.
"Good morning-- or it's evening? Heh, I seem to forget what time of the day is."
"Good one." Dylan muttered.
"Let's try this again. If you answer my questions, I'll let you go. Simple as that." Dylan had his eyes fixed on the interrogator, who grabbed the padded envelope and ripped the seal open. "Now, I'm really curious about this." he turned the envelope upside down and a bundle of black cloth fell off it. The interrogator grabbed what seemed to be his suit. He opened and inspected it closely. "What is your obsession with the suit? Is it how it feels? Is it that you want to show off? Or... is just a weird fetish of yours?"
Dylan was just sitting on the floor, being subject to the humiliation from the interrogator.
He left the suit on the table and grabbed a photo of the confidential file. "Oh, here it is." He got up from the chair and neared the transparent dividing wall, in which he violently slammed the image into it with his palm, "This guy here..." Dylan's eyes were as wide as platters as he immediately recognized the picture.
"Shaun Waters. Your boyfriend, right? As seen in here, killed by a slash to his neck by a robber. Now I ask you... who was to blame for his death? His stupid self, or his careless boyfriend?"
Dylan got up from the floor and limped towards the transparent wall.
"Ooooooh, are you gonna turn red, huh?" The coated man cackled, turning into the security guard, "Hey Paul, look! He's gonna turn red. Look, look. He's gonna do it! No... wait, he isn't. You know why, Paul?" His head turned to Dylan, "Because he's a fuck-up!"
The frail prisoner slammed his palms into the wall, leaning his whole body into it. Condensation accumulated on the glass as he violently puffed air off his nose.
"Dylan, Dylan... take it easy, man. You're gonna get yourself hurt."
"Fuck you!"
"This technology is amazing. But I can't wait to have green light to incinerate this thing." The interrogator now seemed to be more serious as he stuffed the suit into the envelope, "This shouldn't see the light of day ever again."
"MOTHERFUCKER!! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!" Dylan yelled furiously, bashing the wall repeatedly with all his might.
The interrogator left without saying another word while the wall slowly opaqued. Dylan fell on his knees, forgetting he didn't have the fast healing properties anymore. His fists were bloody and a couple of fingers were out of place. He leaned his back on the wall and grasped one of his fractured fingers. After a deep breath, he pulled it back into its place, with stiffled screams ensuing.
