Chapter 18

"Arthur, are you absolutely positive that we can trust this guy? I mean, while you're a ghost he might be scared of you but what happens when you wake up?" Thomas tried to keep his voice down, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible about talking to a ghost in public.

"You mean if I wake up…" Arthur pointed out.

"DON'T say that! What is wrong with you? Of course you'll wake up!" Thomas was unable to contain his emotions. As quickly as he could, Thomas pulled his cellphone to his ear, "Of course you'll wake up," he repeated, speaking into the broken phone.

"Look, it doesn't matter whether or not this guy is trustworthy. As long as none of the others go on that plane, everything should be alright. It'll buy us enough time to… well, let's just say that by the time that plane lands, if all goes well, there will be none of the others left. Alive, that is." Arthur watched as his youngest sister, together with her criminal companion, purchased their tickets and disappeared from sight.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas did not like the sound of that, "How…wait, are you seriously planning to kill them?"

"There is no other choice," Arthur replied coldly, "I have no time nor desire for being humane with them. They're monsters. They killed my mom. I don't even want to think about what they did to DW all these years."

Thomas's jaw dropped and his phone fell out of his hand, snapping into pieces. "And how exactly are you planning to kill them? You're a ghost…"

"I have a plan. Just follow my lead, alright?" Arthur patted his cousin on the shoulder and made his way to the exit.

"Wait, Arthur!" Thomas called out but Arthur ignored him, "Arthur!" A woman walking by eyed Thomas suspiciously. Why can I see him? Thomas hesitated to follow. Isn't there anyone else except me and Paul? Thomas stared at his cousin's ghost walking further and further away. What if this is all a hallucination? Arthur wouldn't act like that. He wouldn't…he wouldn't just go out and murder people.

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FLASH-FORWARD (three months later)

"Hello, I'm Arthur Read," Arthur held out a cuffed hand, "How are you doing?"

The prison guard ignored his gesture, instead handing him a large pile of neatly-folded clothes. "Call me Boss," he replied. The man seemed terribly familiar, though Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Nice to meet you, Boss," Arthur gave a polite nod.

"Boy, take your manners, put them in a box and throw them in the trash together with your future. 'Please' and 'thank you' won't be of any help to you here," the guard did not look at Arthur as he spoke, "What it will do, however, is get your rear end kicked by our annoyed guests."

"Guests?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. The guard really reminded him of someone, and being unable to figure it out was beginning to get on his nerves.

"Yes, guests. I like to think of this place as a fine 5-star hotel," Boss smirked, "As long as you follow our rules, you should have a rather pleasant stay." He stepped out of the hallway and waited for Arthur to follow. "Since you're on Death Row, let me show you to the presidential suite." Arthur took a deep breath and hesitantly followed the guard, afraid of what he might see.

"This" the guard motioned to the left, "Is the place where you smelly dogs wash up. And you better wash well, cause I like to keep this hotel smelling nice and fresh. And over here," he motioned to the right, "Is where they serve some of the best food in the world." Arthur couldn't help but remember his school field trip to the museum. This tour-guide guard did remind him a lot of Mr. Ratburn. In fact, so much that Arthur was beginning to wonder if the two might be related. Arthur smiled to himself upon finally figuring that out. Mr. Ratburn's doppelganger went on: "You know, that Chef MacGrady can cook up a real work of art."

Arthur wondered if he meant Mrs. MacGrady, the lunch lady, realizing for the first time in his life that that actually rhymed. However, his thoughts quickly changed as he saw a scene that he never, in a million years, could imagine. He couldn't resist asking. "That prisoner," he pointed as they entered what the guard called the 'suites', "Is his name by any chance Alan Powers?"

The guard nodded. "That is his legal name, though he prefers "The Brain". He's in here for blowing up a building with his 'time machine'. For the third time." Arthur couldn't believe it. The 'tour guide' went on, "Though I don't think it's much safer having him here – The Brain has really revolutionized home-made weaponry. All the guys here love him."

"And this here," the guard stopped so Arthur could get a better look of who he was talking about, "Is the one that even guards come to fear. You know, he could knock you out with just his pinky finger." In the cell was a man, about seven feet tall with arms as wide as oak tree trunks, doing one-armed pull-ups against the top bunk of his bed. His cell mate was covered in bruises. The guard put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, "A word of advice to a scrawny boy like you…cover up when Big Bink is in the shower."

"Binky?!" Arthur almost choked. He was always big, but…

"What are you looking at?" the giant growled at him. Arthur was about to go over and say hello, but the guard pushed him forward.

As Arthur could see, the tour was not over yet. The guard, with all the same enthusiasm, continued, "And here, monitored by a guard 25 hours a day, we have the sneaky rabbit – no pun intended – who broke out of here seven times and counting. They don't call him Buster for nothing."

Arthur's jaw dropped. This was definitely the last person he was expecting to find here. It was like a class reunion. "Buster!" he called, "So this is what travelling with your dad is like?"

"The seventh time was for you," Buster replied, "As well as the eighth," he said in a lower tone with friendly wink.

"There's not going to be an eighth, Buster," the guard assured.

"We'll see about that," he chuckled. "By the way, that's Mr. Ratburn," Buster shouted as Arthur walked away, "He's finally found a suitable job!"

"I knew it!" Arthur smiled. It felt good to be among friends.

After a few seconds they came to another stop. Arthur braced for another "And here is…" from Mr. Ratburn, but it didn't come. Instead, he said "Welcome home." Arthur examined the generic cell in front of him. The presidential suite. A prisoner that looked almost too young to be here sat quietly and wrote something in a notebook. "And this is your new cell-mate. Congratulations, the two of you are destined to spend the rest of your – unfortunately rather short – lives together." Arthur waved but the young man did not take his eyes off his notebook. "He might be young but he's no sweetheart," Mr. Ratburn said in a serious and almost frightening tone, "The kid murdered his own brother. As well as three other men. And he has more theft charges than this entire row of prisoners combined."

Great, Arthur thought, out of all the prisoners here I get to bunk with a murderer. "Boss, couldn't I be paired up with Buster instead?" Arthur asked hopefully.

Mr. Ratburn snorted out a laugh, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'm afraid that's not how it works here. You aren't exactly a model citizen either – what was it, seven counts of murder?"

"Lucky number seven," Arthur replied bitterly.

"Another word of advice – if you want to live to your expiration date," the guard said as the barred door opened, "Try to get along. And enjoy your stay at Elwood City Penitentiary." Arthur felt a slight horror taking over him as the barred door slammed behind him and Mr. Ratburn began to walk away.