Mr. Baley was an older man who worked as security guard at Terrill Prison For Delinquents And Lifelong Sentences. For short, he called it the Crazy House. He had been on duty at the screens that kept watch over the jail, fiddling his thumbs in boredom. He had even resorted to making his own hangman. As he was absently doodling on his notepad, he happened to glance up at the screens, usually filled with bright orange jumpsuits. Not anymore. Every single cell was empty. He felt a rush of panic. Some of the country's worst murderers and drug dealers were housed in the Terrill Prison. What scared him the worst though, was the black, blank screen on the far right. Because in this one, he saw his own reflection, and behind it, a dark figure. He made to turn in his swivel chair, and screamed in terror.

It was the Artist. His face was horrifying, half of it peeling off in rotting chunks. The other half was decorated like a human skull. He looked like a creature from his worst nightmares. He looked dead.

He chuckled, "How do you like it?" Mr. Baley was mesmerized by a piece of flesh, hanging limp below his jaw, wagging sickeningly ever time he talked.

"Now, you are going to sit perfectly still, and when dawn comes, call the police. Tell them....... Tell them this is only the beginning." He cackled, a maniacal, twisted gurgle. Mr. Baley shuddered.

In that one split second that Mr. Baley blinked, he was gone. He stood up, heading straight for the door.

"Remember, Mr.Baley, don't try to leave until dawn." The screeching voice grated on his ears like nails on a chalkboard.

He ignored the warning, and tried the handle. Locked. He reached for the telephone. It wouldn't even turn on. He returned to his chair, and tried his last hope; his radio. Surprisingly, it worked.

"This is Baley here. Mass breakout. Artist sighted, backup needed, over." He desperately recited into the tiny handheld radio.

A hiss overlapped the static. "Tut, tut tut. What did I tell you, Mr. Baley? Don't try and leave. Three strikes, you're out."

It was the last sound he ever heard.