(South Wing)

Kennedy kept eying Lawrence, with loathing exuding from his orbs. Yes, he did study medicine and yes, he was once a nurse, but that does not mean he was capable of truly saving lives.

"You're causing his death!" Lawrence yelled at him. The young prisoner took one of the gauze from his side and threw it at the fuming man while yelling, "I patched him up the way I knew how!"

In the middle of their confrontation, Ernest appeared from the door, pushing what little furniture they managed to use to reinforce it.

"Great, if it had been Rudolf's man, I believe we're fucked." Lawrence murmured as Ernest stepped inside without difficulty

Kennedy's eyes widened in disbelief at the scene before him. Because cradled in Ernest's arms was a guard who appeared to have been badly beaten. His body was covered with black and purplish discolouration.

"What the hell did you do?" Lawrence asked the big man. "Where are the warden and Sebastian, the blood too," Kennedy added.

Ernest did not give them a reply, he slowly made his way towards another bed and laid the unconscious guard on it.

The three prisoners could hear the man muttering incoherent words, but they managed to catch the words, God and Heaven.

"I think he's delirious," Lawrence whispered.

"That's quite obvious," Kennedy sneered.

Ernest suddenly grabbed the young prisoner's arm and commanded, "Fix him."

Kennedy shook his head and slapped the big man's hand away, then answered him with, "I got my hands full right here," whilst pointing a finger to Harold's still unconscious body.

Ernest frowned after seeing Harold's torso. The skin around the wound that Kennedy stitched had taken a darker hue, blood was also seeping from the stitches themselves.

"What did you do to him?" Ernest questioned.

The young man shook his head. He did everything right. He couldn't figure out where he went wrong.
***

(West Wing)

Mark gazed at Melinda and placed a finger below her nose; he felt air coming out from it, and it made him smile. The woman was still alive.

He positioned the letter near his face and thought about 247, wishing he could have spoken with the old man before his demise.

Amidst all his confusion and regret, Mark began to read the letter in his hand.
***

Dear Maria,

We were told that a tornado might cross this place in the coming days. The prisoners are praying for it to come, they believe it will be strong enough to destroy the prison walls. Some of them had already begun dreaming of where to go once it happened. I listened in silence and couldn't help but wonder, what if it does break the prison walls? What if there was a chance to escape?

Would I escape Maria? I think I won't. If I do, where will I go? There is nothing for me on the outside. The world, I'm certain, is not how I left it. Some new inmates even talked about the advancement of technology. He said something about a machine which they call a computer. He said people can watch on it, and communicate without waiting for days to receive a reply. How is that possible? There are no newspapers here, only books that have been written before, what that man called the dawn of technology. I wish the guards here would provide one of those things. I want to know how it works, what it looks like, and how it communicates with people.

No, I will never leave. Here is where I belong. I accepted that, a long time ago.

Anyway Maria, would you like me to continue with my life on the ranch? I remembered an old friend, it was a horse inside one of the stables. I can't believe he faded from my memories. I guess yours flooded my mind so much, that everything else was shoved aside.

I remember it was after a year and a half since my arrival at the ranch when the head workers brought home a black horse. It was a wild one and we were told it has a propensity for meeting new people. It was found loitering inside a forest somewhere.

It was such a gallant-looking horse. It was tall with dark brown eyes, black skin, and wholly dark hair coats. I could barely see the gap between its legs and hooves due to its colour. Everyone loved it, but no one was able to come near it. Do you want to know why? It's because whenever someone came even at least a meter from him, the horse would react violently. It would raise its hind foot and would let it drop fiercely to the ground while releasing a sound that cannot even be considered a neigh.

He was an untamed horse, so everyone decided to call him Mad Knight. I think it fits him perfectly. He was proud and fierce like a Knight, crazily stubborn to the point where everyone considered him insane.

You're probably wondering why I'm telling you about him. It's because no one was able to come near the horse, except for me.

How it happened was a bit weird. I guess when they said horses are intelligent creatures, they had proven it to be so, and I experienced it myself.

I remember it was one of those nights. Night's when your memory haunted me in my sleep. I left my dwelling and took a stroll around the ranch. I was walking close to the stable where Mad Knight was kept, and that's when I heard a soft neigh inside. I entered the edifice and there, I saw Mad Knight standing proudly in the middle. I was unsure what to do, he was supposed to be locked up inside one of the stalls.

At first, I was hesitant to approach him, but there was something in the way he looked at me. I saw something in his eyes, a thing that I was so familiar with, and that was sadness and longing. Maybe it was my imagination, but he was looking at me intently, and then, his gaze turned soft. He slowly walked up to me with all his glory and brought his elongated face towards my shoulder. He nudged at it and without thinking, I ran my hand over the side of his face. He released a neigh that I had never heard before. He sounded like a real horse, one that was alive and happy.

I can't recall how it happened, really, but the next thing I knew, I was leaning on his long, muscular body. That's when I saw something that turned my blood cold. It cannot be seen easily, probably due to the nature of his color. His body bore scars, multiple scars that could only have come from whipping. I ran my hand over the one closest to his neck, the wound must have been bad because the scar created an irregular dip on his skin.

I felt sorry for it, Maria; it must have been tortured. It must have escaped its former owners. Unfortunately, it was back to a life that offered nothing but loneliness.

It was different, too peculiar that the other horses didn't like him as well. Maybe it's because he was grumpy all the time.

Anyway, Mad Knight and I began to share a bond after that night, and when the head of the stable guys saw that he was warming up to me, they gave me the task of taking care of him. I accepted of course.

Mad Knight gave me something to look forward to. My days weren't as lonely as before. I had days when you barely crossed my mind. I thought things were getting better. I deemed my life to finally have been given a purpose, other than to love you.

Everything was perfect, up until September. It was a day that I thought, I would never forget. Maybe the pain that day brought me was the reason why my consciousness hid it away. Maybe it was too painful, but my mind decided to erase Mad Knight from my memories.

It happened on a cold Monday morning. The son of the owner, a sixteen-year-old boy with quite an attitude, arrived at the ranch with his schoolmates. It was supposed to be a typical day Maria, a normal day! But those boys went to the stable and began to tease Mad Knight. They threw apples at him, whipped him with a stick, and yelled at him.

Mad Knight was not a patient horse. He was wild. When one of the teens mistakenly opened his stall, the horse galloped away.

All he wanted was to run from them Maria, to save himself from all the pain. The owner's son didn't see it that way though. I wasn't there, so I'm not sure if the story they told me, is how it happened.

According to one of the stable boys, when Mad Knight ran outside. The owner's son left to get his rifle.

They shot him dead Maria! They killed him like he was nothing. He was all I had.

When I arrived beside my horse, he was gasping for air, and It didn't take long for him to die because the bullet hit his neck.

That was how I lost my new paradise. Mad Knights' death clouded my judgment. After we buried him on the afternoon of his passing, I waited silently for nightfall.

It was so easy to take that brat's life. I didn't hesitate, no one hurts what I value and love. No one.

I left Rancho Buenaventura that same night and I never looked back.

Merry Christmas Maria! I hope you're happy my love. How are you spending Christmas this year? Are you celebrating inside your home, or are you outside with your children? As for me. I was allowed to stay in the library for an entire night, while the others were given a hefty meal. I was barely visible anyway. I was what the guards called, too tired to bother escaping. Maybe I am Maria. Maybe I'm truly tired.

Love Forever.

Your Silent Knight.