<hr/><div align="center"><strong>Group 1</strong></div><hr/><br/>With the officer's departure, the prison cells slowly resumed its slow and even pace of silence. It seemed as if luck was finally with them and the day's excitement had come to an end. Down the hall, only the strained echoes of the television could be heard, broken by the occasional soft chuckle or startling guffaw from the officer on duty.<br/><br/>Eventually, those who were lucky enough to find the welcoming arms of sleep nestled into the silken caress of dreams -- pleasant, unpleasant, and unknown. The others, restless with their own thoughts and possibly the occasional whisper within their minds (imagined?...or not?), sleep was a luxury they could not find.<br/><br/>Slowly for some, and quickly for others, the hours ticked by and now only the drone of the television could be heard. Overnight, Sam's unbearably itchy wound was now a solid scab that seemed a few days old at least. Alice's twisted ankle seemed just a part of a bad dream, her ankle feeling good as new. Like Sam, Jung and Nigel's wounds were in a similar condition.<br/><br/>Suddenly, a low groan of metal and a familiar hiss break the slumbering quiet of the early morning. A resounding<em>click!</em>seems deafening, and the following silence stretches out endlessly in anticipation...only to be broken by a soft whir of mechanisms as the door to the high security cells slide open. Across the reinforced glass cells, William's cage for the night stood silent in response. The lock in the door refusing to budge an inch despite how the high security cells were now completely open.<br/><br/>Before the prisoners could speculate on the malfunction of their cells, the smug smoker's voice jarred sleepy and tired minds awake. "Well whaddya know. Guess ya better get your ass outta here while you can, eh?" The small moment of wonder in his tone is quickly replaced with a sneer. "And I was just wrappin' my mind around the idea of you frying in the chair..."<br/><br/>The soothing mother-like voice wove through the remnants of the smoker's sniggering. "I know it's tempting, but if you leave now what good will it do? You'll have lost any chance you had at claiming innocence. Run now and you'll have labeled yourself guilty without a doubt."<br/><br/>As always, the conversation...if it could be called that, was brief. Like two sides of a conscience weighing out the pros and cons of the situation. In the meantime, William, who is unable to hear any such voices and has always forever questioned his own conscience, was slowly rousing from a night of fitful sleep.<br/><br/>The clock down the hall reads 6:00 AM, the hushed ticking of its seconds accompanied by the soft and steady snores of the officer at the desk. The morning shift would soon be arriving in a few hours, though there are always the occasional early birds who arrive far too early for their own good.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Reminders</div><div class="spoiler_body">As seen in the previous post (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=133407.msg6312976#msg6312976), there is a locker room beneath the stairs at the end of the hall. It can be assumed that the locker room door is unlocked (and possibly some lockers as well), though there is always the officer at the desk to get around first.</div></div>