Adrienne lay shackled within a holding cell somewhere inside the penitentiary, lost in the corridors that led had her to the room of torture. As she lay there, she began to feel strength returning, though it brought with it the stinging pain of the wounds upon her back. She was awaiting her execution. It would be soon, and as she sat there, she contemplated how a life so simple and meaningless had resulted in the word execution being spoken to her within a sentence.
There was a time in her life, when she had been an Enforcer’s wife, a respected member of the community who was always expected to be the dignified lady that stood proudly by her husband at the dinner functions they attended. She had an array of gowns within her closet then, and was a master at the art of makeup. Within her mind, Adrienne could envision herself again, the lady with the grand gown and expensive shoes walking upon the arm of the handsome Enforcer. Adrienne huffed at the memory and began to laugh. As she chuckled, the sounds of chatter outside her cell from other prisoners reminded her of where she was now, and that death was swiftly approaching.
Adrienne pushed herself up upon her feet, her hands still held together at the wrists with the bracelets that were bound with an unbreakable seal. She had lain still for too long in the time since the curious Willo Trask had led her to this new cell, and the Enforcers had deposited her within it. This cell was not located in the dark penitentiary rotunda, though it was still dimly lit. It was thankfully taller, allowing her in a struggle for a stance, to actually rise to her full height. Dizziness overcame her once again when she had risen, forcing her to quickly approach the bars that were the curtain across the room’s exit, leaning upon them when she arrived.
With a glance down as she struggled to overcome nausea, she looked upon herself, still dressed in the outfit that she had chosen in the morning for what was intended to be a grand journey to a better place. Her pants were torn at the left knee, and she could still feel where the metal shard had dug into her belly, leaving another tear upon the front of her once-white blouse. Her jacket had ridden up as she had jumped from the air shaft, and so was spared of any cuts from her escape. It was now sliced, however, in many spots at the shoulders from the torture device, trails of blood staining the tears in the cloth. The remainder of the jacket was dotted with the soot and dirt of the sub-transit tunnel as was her blouse and pants. Completing the look, the itching in her face told her that her skin was red and dry, the effects of the nerve-pacifying blast delivered to her in the elevator, while her entire body smelled of the aroma of disinfectant that had been sprayed upon her, seeping its unique scent into her clothing. Adrienne was far from the lady that at one time worried of which color her lips should be painted based upon the outfit of the evening. As she leaned against the bars and closed her eyes, she realized that for the first time in her life, what she wore did not concern her.
Contemplating her current situation, Adrienne thought of the day that she had been through. Since the unscheduled stop on a train and the untimely tearing of a red canvas bag, her life had been full of fear. She had run from the Enforcers whose family of officers she had once been a part of. She had struggled for survival, breaking many laws in her quest for salvation. Adrienne smiled again as she realized that this day and the events that occurred within it since their attack had invigorated her. Her life had been stale since the death of her husband, a simple acceptance of the strict rule of the world that she lived in governing her existence. Today, however, the stance that she had made against the tightness of the Underworld government had surfaced a feeling that was unexplainable until this moment. Alone in a cell and remembering the day’s events, Adrienne realized that the feeling building within her was pride.
The clanking of metal upon thick metal occurred from down the hall, followed by the clacking of heavy boot heels upon the thickness of the floor growing louder as they grew closer. Adrienne glanced in the direction of the sound, yet knew even without the knowledge of their destination that they were coming for her. It was time for her execution, swiftly enacted as they always were in the Underworld since the government wished to have no part in the feeding and caring for its prisoners that were condemned to death. The sentence had been issued without trial or the consideration of justice, for the president had declared them prisoners of the military which stripped them of the little rights that a civilian hearing may grant them. Therefore the time here awaiting execution was only long enough for the arrangements to be made.
The sounds of the clacking stopped as two hulking Enforcers arrived at her cell and stood before her. She thought for a moment that there was recognition in the face of one, from the parties she had attended, but tossed the thought aside for such thoughts no longer mattered. Adrienne was no longer a part of that family, and the two Enforcers before her were here to deliver her to her death.
Adrienne stood back as they unlocked her cell and stepped inside. As they led her out, she cared not for the banter of the prisoners around her, or the cold sensation of judgment from the officials that guided her direction. For her, this was a walk of dignity in a final display of the realization she had come to in the dark of the Underworld prison; the realization that no matter how she looked, Adrienne Ainsworth was still a grand lady.