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One Way Out - Chapter 15

Yours Truly extends his greetings onto all! Well, after getting many more favourites from readers new and most likely old, I have decided to treat these guys, and indeed all you still reading to a new chapter of One Way Out! I am eternally grateful to all who are faving and keeping tabs on my story, as a favourite/follow always lets me know that someone likes this fic. Also, as extra thanks for this, I have made this chapter a bit longer than the others.

Now that we got that soppy moment out of the way, I give you the next chapter of One Way Out!

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As soon as I heard a sudden, cold greeting behind me, I had no idea what to expect. I mean, literally no idea. The gravity of the talk I just had with Kaz, and the true visions of what our drunken selves got up to last night were flowing through my mind.

At first glance, I thought it was Slick Mick, since he had a habit of showing up in circumstances that completely caught me off guard. He would most definitely be looking for some payback for almost certainly putting him in the hole for a bit.

That said, it could have easily been one of his cronies, Steve the Feraligatr and uh... Larson, I think the Aggron was called... They probably got similar punishments as their leader.

However, both my initial assumptions at that moment proved wrong. I slowly turned around...

...and a familiar Gabite was standing in front of me. Marcel LaMonde. His cold voice now came back to me, and that seemingly indifferent, light-hearted smirk only cemented the familiarity.

"Heh, you really need to watch your back, kid..." Marcel advised, clearly seeing that I was surprised at his out-of-the-blue entrance. Not wanting to continue this trend, my response was immediate.

"Hey, Marcel... I'll be sure to keep that in mind..."

Marcel, clearly not wanting me to be all shaky, asked me a rather simple question: "So how have you been, kid?"

"P-Pretty good, you?" I initially stuttered, and hurriedly picked myself back up, much to the Gabite's attention, and he saw right through my paper-thin disguise of attitude.

"Kid, you're stuttering. You wanna tell me something?" He asked. But I stood my ground, and tried to convince him that nothing was wrong. I didn't need a character as mysterious as Marcel getting a hold of such delicate information as the events that happened last night.

Fortunately, a silent nod seemingly reassured me that he had bought my story, and wasn't going to ask further. Guess persistence wasn't his thing. Instead, he reached into his pocket, and out came a small cardboard box. Turns out it was a small cart of cigarettes.

The Gabite then silently switch it into my jumpsuit's left pocket, clearly not wanting to raise the attention of the guards. I immediately got the message and went along with it. Finally, a fish like me had some form of currency in this place.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Marcel then directed me to the south exit of the mess hall, and decided to remind me of a certain promise:

"Kid, it's time for me to carry out my agreement to you. I guarantee that I'm gonna train you into a machine, and maybe gain you some respect along the way..." Thank you, Arceus.

"Thanks, Marcel. Lead the way to the gym." I told him, not wanting to stall for any longer. The sooner we got things under way, the better. Fortunately, Marcel was holding a similar mentality, and immediately pulled me ahead into the exit, before suddenly letting me go as we made our way down the corridor.

"Sorry about that, Vito... Can't have you holdin' onto my hand, otherwise guys'll think you're my pet." ...Turns out Kaz WAS right about the existence of pets in prison, much to my horror.

But Marcel added: "I admit, you're pretty cute...", and upon close examination, I could see the tiniest flush of pink wash across his face. I honestly didn't know what to say.

I could've easily snapped back at the Gabite, or even hit him if I wanted to, but something about that thought put me off. Maybe it was the fact that the guy was so goddamn unpredictable, and that I knew so little about him.

He even paused for a moment, expecting some form of response out of me, but to his shock, and to mine, I gave none. I just seemed... too determined to care.

My response, or lack thereof, meant that something must've stirred up inside Marcel, because he then quietly mused to me:

"...But I'm not into that 'taking pets' shit, that is a title fit only for cowards." Okay, now I knew that he had standards of sort... A rarity in a prison like this, I'm only sure.

"Got it." I kept my cool, and kept my responses short, until we at least made it into the gym. It was another minute or so, as we continuously walked down the same narrow corridor that seemed to go on infinitely. Until... Marcel suddenly directed me to make a sharp left turn, into an equally narrow hallway.

"We're here," Was all Marcel said as he directed me onward. I now managed to get a glimpse at the supposed institution of Pugilism and Testosterone that awaited me.

The hallway extended out into a wider entrance of sorts, and a pair of metallic, Prussian Blue doors greeted us, along with a rather old, wooden sign with carved writing on it. It read, "TITAN". Not wanting to waste any more time, Marcel opened the doors, and beckoned me in.

---

The second I stepped through that doorway, I was in a completely different world. Brought back to reality from my period of deep thought and concentration, I warily gazed around this foreign, new environment.

It was a huge hall, with many different pieces of equipment, meant for the use of some meat-heads. Weights, dumbbells, punch bags, mats, benches, you name it. Chances are, if it could be used in exercise, it was there.

The room looked quite populated, to be fair. Many pokémon were lying down on the mats, doing crunches, sit ups, and the like. Others were letting out steam into the punch bags, and indeed, working on the weights of the rather generous supply that the prison had given us. However, one thing started to tick in my mind.

All the Pokémon in the room, were around me and Marcel's size. Hell, I think Marcel was one of the largest in there! I almost... felt at home.

Whilst I was staring the place down, Marcel called out to a Scrafty overseeing the progress of a Mienfoo, who was hammering away at a punching bag.

"Hey, Febian!" Marcel shouted out to the pre-occupied Scrafty. "Got a fresh bit of meat for you!"

The Scrafty now known as Febian soon turned around at the end of that sentence, whispering something to the Meinfoo before walking over to us. His expression was one of confidence.

"Do you, now?" I heard him say, as he headed over towards us. His eyes remained focused on Marcel. I felt a little bit uneasy at that point.

"Yep." Marcel confirmed, and directed his attention over towards us. He was bigger than he looked at first glance, and for the first time, a pokémon of equal stature actually intimidated me.

"Febian, this is Vito. I will be giving him the training he needs to become one of us." Upon hearing this, Febian's passive smile turned into a devious smirk.

"Oooh..." he mused. And then his attention was fully placed on me. "It's nice to meet you, Vito." he then extended out a hand, which I took without a moment of hesitation. Didn't want to make a bad impression and all...

"Y-You too, sir." I replied, but he soon changed his tone to a more serious one.

"Kid, you can drop the formalities, you're together with us cons! You're not in the sight of the screws anymore!"

"Okay, Febian." I replied again, and this time, he gave a bright smile, before firmly shaking my hand and letting go.

"There ya go..." he then turned his attention back to Marcel, and told him: "Marcel, since you're gonna be training him, show our new friend Vito around the place, and start training him when he's ready. We'll introduce him to the crew when he's made himself at home." And without further delay, he headed back to the Mienfoo.

"Certainly, Febian." remarked Marcel. He then directed me forward, and our tour of the gym was under way.

First, Marcel directed me towards the punching bags, where the same Mienfoo was pre-occupying himself with a full flurry of chops and punches against the swinging sack of flesh.

"These are the punching bags. You won't be using them for a bit though. You need to improve your build beforehand..." said Marcel, and before I could say anything, he moved on, making a beeline for the weights, where two figures, a Weavile and a Greninja were busy pumping themselves up, with 20lbs of steel.

"Hey, Marcel! Didn't know we had a new compá!" remarked a voice that had a Hispanic tone to it. We looked in response, and saw the Greninja staring back at us, soon accompanied by his Weavile partner.

"Yes, Miguel. This here's Vito." Marcel then directed the water-type over to my sight, and both Pokémon responded with greeting grins. I nodded back in them, acknowledging their gesture. Seemed a pretty decent place, so far...

Soon their feelings were made mutual when Miguel offered his hand out to me: "Miguel Rincón."

I accepted, not being one to turn down friendly gestures. "Vito Angelo."

"Nice to meet ya, Vito." Remarked another voice, this time coming from the Weavile, who offered out his right metallic claw. "Name's William Blazcowicz. But you can call me B.J."

I accepted, and told him: "Nice to meet you too, B.J."

After that, we had a brief conversation about my time in prison, and we wasted a good five minutes doing this. Soon, it came to the point where Marcel didn't want to delay us any further, and led me away, after we said our goodbyes to Miguel and B.J.

Though Miguel had one last thing to say to us, as we walked towards the matted section of the gym. In truth, it was more akin to a warning.

"Hey, Vito! Watch out for the fascistas across the hall! Small fish like you are easy bait for them...." The second I heard the word "fascistas", I was immediately got a lump in my throat. That term meant only one thing:

Nazis.

I was barely able to muster a nod towards Miguel before heading with Marcel towards the mats. I had heard many stories about Prison Nazis being even more brutal than the ones on the outside. And THAT was saying something.

"Vito, don't worry about them..." Miguel said, obviously noticing the concerned look on my face. "If those Nazis know what's good for them, they won't lay a finger on you."

I looked ahead at the bleachers, where Miguel said they were based at, and was greeted by several Pokémon. All had muscle, and several had six pack abs, whilst others had muscle guts. But all of them... had Swastikas tattooed on their left pectoral. The supposed leader, a Luxio, sat at the top of the set of bleachers, was chatting away...

...until he looked up and saw me staring at him.

Not wanting to attract any attention, I immediately looked back at Marcel, who almost immediately shoved me down onto the mat. Guess training was gonna start, whether I liked it or not.

"Right Vito, first we're gonna straighten your balance out, and work your biceps up. I want you to do 50 press ups, with as little fault as possible." Damn. Talk about a tough start.

Already lying on my stomach, I just nodded in response, and slowly got myself into position. After Marcel checked to make sure I was in the right pose, he gave me the go ahead.

"Ready... START!" commanded the Gabite.

I began without hesitation, and to tell you the truth, the first 10-15 press ups were textbook to perform, since I used to do about a dozen reps every other day as a kid. Marcel looked quite impressed with my quick start as well...

But as I reached 25 press ups, I noticed that my arms were beginning to tense up... it was as if more weight was being added onto it with each rep that I did. And so... I began to slow down a bit.

Marcel obviously didn't want this, with obvious regards given to my fast start, and tried to motivate me to gain my wind back.

"Come on, Vito! Don't slow down! The quicker you do it, the better!" cried Marcel. Not wanting to let him down, I tried to do that, and by 35 reps, I was beginning to speed up again. However, at the cost of a new sensation arriving in my arms... a stinging burn.

At first, the burn seemed quite light, but with every other rep, its strength and potency began to grow at a dangerous rate. As I reached 45 reps, I was barely able to life myself up. And unfortunately... I collapsed to the ground at about 48 reps.

Marcel did hold a disappointed frown on his face, but he lifted me up nonetheless, and patted me on the shoulder. "Eh, not bad for a first try, Vito... But you'll need to try harder next time."

He then tossed me a canteen of water, which I immediately took a swig out of, before replying to his analysis. "Thanks, Marcel. First time's always the hardest..."

Marcel just nodded, and signalled for me to get down on my back. "Right. We're not gonna delay any further. Your muscles need to be fixed into a quick cycle. You wanna build them quick, you've got to be quick, yourself. Now... try 50 sit ups."

"Sit ups?" I asked the Gabite, who nodded in response.

"Of course, the abdominal muscles are perhaps the most important when it comes to building your body up. If you neglect them, you develop a muscle gut, and trust me, that is not a good image. Sit ups on the other hand, are much easier to do, as long as you get the timing and pose right."

Now it was my turn to nod with every little detail he gave in his little briefing before we began. He then lied down beside me, and began performing sit ups without issue. It looked like a goddamn picnic to him...

I soon followed suit, making sure that I didn't screw up the posing, and kept my legs bound together. Since Marcel was performing his at a moderate pace, I decided to be a bit more lenient, and go at my own comfortable pace.

Without any further delay, I started the abdominal workout, and as predicted, the lenient speed made the process much easier than I thought it would be. But when I reached thirty press ups, I was struggling to keep my legs bounded together. However, I developed an idea in my head, and was able to use my vines to hold my legs in place.

This improvised bind helped me get my way through the rest of the session, and by the time I had reached 50 reps, Marcel had long since finished his set, and was watching me with a joking smirk on his face.

"Heheheh... Vito... I gotta give you credit for being creative with those things..." He must've been referring to my vine bind technique.

"...but you gotta be carefuly about using your vines... The screws notice, and they'll beat the crap out of you." Damn, guess I was gonna have to reconsider using that technique again in the future.

"But other than that... Pretty good work." And with that, he directed me to move on, towards a section further downward.

But before Marcel could explain where we were exactly, heading, we heard the sound of Febian jumping down off of his observatory post near the building's ceiling, and he took his place at the centre of the room, clapping his hands.

This seemed to bring the entire gymnasium under attention, as it fell silent, and Febian began to speak.

He began: "Now, I know we usually don't make such a big deal of this... But as it turns out, we have a new addition to our gym."

There was a wave of mixed murmuring before Febian continued. "All I can say is, he's gonna be a good addition to our community, and will be Marcel's apprentice. Everyone, please say hello to our new friend, Vito Angelo!" he then shot a smile at me, and the murmurings turned more into quiet greetings.

"I'm sure you'll all make him feel at home. Anyone who takes on Slick Mick and avoids getting fucked is a good guy in my book." Febian finished, and mumblings of acknowledgement followed. Guess knowledge of my incident with the sodomite trio was more widespread than I initially thought.

---

Soon, the passive pleasantries were over and dealt with, and me and Marcel were headed to our original destination. Marcel later identified this:

"Right, we're gonna continue the abdominal workout, and there is no better way to tense your muscles up, then through the use of medicine balls." He then reached into the shelf, and brought out a rather large ball.

I had heard those medicine balls had packed a punch in the joint, and Nacrene was no exception. Marcel soon made some haughty suggestions:

"Vito... I would suggest that you suck your gut in for this one... These medicine balls weigh quite a lot. Plus, it may sting at first, so be wary."

Taking his advice to mind, I soon did as suggested and sucked my gut in, my abdomen looking rather tense. It was a good job that I did this, because no sooner than five seconds later, I found myself barely holding onto the medicine ball. I had seen this technique in an old film. Throw the medicine ball back and forth at each other's guts.

I soon returned the lob, and after a few sets, the stinging sensation that Marcel warned about, was all but present. And by the end of the routine, my body was burning all over, having seen its fair share of exercise.

I had to signal to Marcel that I needed to stop, and fortunately, he was more than willing to oblige. He then put the medicine ball back, and walked towards me with a congratulatory smile plastered across his face.

"Congratulations, my friend... You have successfully completed your first period at the Titan Gym. I trust you enjoyed it, yes?"

I nodded and told him. "Yeah, it was time-killing... Hopefully this'll all sink in by the end of the month." To which Marcel chuckled at.

"Oh, don't worry, mon ami... It will..." He then signalled for me to go to my own devices.

"I'm gonna go and shower, Vito... You may have to wait for your turn, though... only two showers are working at the moment."

Well, guess that gave me some time to kill.

At first, I just stood there, casually scanning around the room, and seeing most of the inhabitants now taking their break, and casually talking to one another. Even that Mienfoo who was busy hammering away at the punching bag earlier was sitting down.

Not wanting to be the odd one out, I made my way towards where B.J and Miguel were conversing, since they were the most welcoming guys in the gym.

However... just before I started to make a beeline for the pair, I was suddenly pulled back from behind by a blue paw, and before I could say anything, I was forcibly turned around by the same paw.

I was staring a Luxio in the eyes. The same Luxio from before. The same Luxio with the goddamned swastika tattooed across his left pectoral. He then hissed:

"What the fuck are you doing in our gym, wastrel?"

---

Uh oh! Looks like Vito's attracted himself some unwanted attention! What will happen to him? Only the next chapter of One Way Out will tell you!

Many thanks for holding on to the story, and additional thanks go out to those who faved and followed both myself, and my magnum opus that is One Way Out. As a reward for both of these feats, I will let you all in on a secret in the next chapter: There will be a shower scene!

Please remember to leave feedback for this chapter, and let me know if you liked it or not. If you didn't, be sure to give constructive criticism, as it helps me improve the fic!

So, until next time, this is PokeCJG, signing off! ^_^