Six took stock of the newly awakened and confused souls that meandered toward him. Was one of them wearing a top hat? Someone had a sense of humor.
"Have I interrupted?" Top Hat asked.
"Just in time. For both of us really. If I was just a few minutes slower, that gate over there would be open and my old friend E-Low would be happily turning you all into accessories right about now. But never mind that, and to be honest, never mind anything for now. Just make yourself comfortable in one of these cushiony seats. My friends will be along sooner or later to run the Hackles off, but until then it's going to be story time. I have a lot to tell you, and none of it's good. It's best to stay quiet and use your ears. It will likely keep you alive longer. We'll do a little Q&A at the end, but until then keep a closed mouth and an open mind."
As if to emphasize his point, he opened his jacket and slid a nickel plated .357 magnum from a holster with the practiced ease of someone who has spent considerable time with a firearm.
"Now this here isn't meant as an intimidation," Six raised his hands, gun still held, in a non-threatening manner, "it's just for my safety. This isn't the first time I've been a room like this with yellow jumpsuits like you. The stuff I have to tell you doesn't always go over well with people, and there's five of you...wait. Where's the other one?"
Sixty Six stood and walked to the last waking chamber and disappeared briefly before reemerging with his pistol casually pointed at someone.
"Come on come on, we don't have all day. I promise this nightmare will be over very soon."
Six was annoyed. Most of the
new bloods were able bodied and, more or less, lucid. The fat, sobbing mess that groused toward him was fearful and reluctant to do much more than feel sorry for himself. He never understood why these people showed up from time to time. Cruelty. That's what it was.
He herded the man towards the others, who instantly backed away. The newcomer had shit himself and the smell wasn't pleasant.
"This is your first and most important lesson about your new life here. It's the hardest to get over. I don't know how much of that TV show you guys paid attention to when you woke up. I had to watch it again later after I left my waking chamber. But this place is called
Murder City. It's meant to be taken literally."
Sixty Six spun his revolver with a flourish and holstered it like a spaghetti western gunslinger. He pulled a black hunting
knife from its sheath at his belt. He moved toward the obese man now further separated from the others.
"Please forgive me in the next life," Six said as he surged forward with spectacular speed.
He died before the realization crossed his face. Six pulled the knife from his ribs and was cleaning it off on his felled corpse in such a fluid and practiced motion that it appeared as muscle memory.
"Welcome to Murder City, my friends. And don't worry after your own lives, yet anyway. What I've just done has two uses. It illustrates what this place is all about. Kill to live. And the other is that if you're weak, you're dead. Killing this man was a mercy to him. He never would have survived. The few like him that come through the waking chambers never do. Now have a seat my friends. After a little grisly business I still need to attend to, I have some things to tell you."
Six lifted the left arm of his fresh kill and isolated the ring finger...
Some time later...
"...And I'm with the Soundless. You can stay with us if you'd like. Our goal is to find a way out, and that requires people. If you want to seek out the other groups or go it alone, we'll escort you safely outside of our boarders with some clothes, provisions, and a few wet-work tools. Any questions?"