Zodiac Penitentiary Research Paper

Whistleblower: This Is Only The Beginning (Part One) For a couple of months, I had been the main software engineer of Zodiac Penitentiary, a high-security and remote prison located deep in the Appalachian Mountains. Compared to any ordinary prison that a normal citizen could possibly name, Zodiac Penitentiary remarkably resembled Pendennis Castle in Falmouth, Cornwall. It’s probably because the scientist who founded this nearly-unknown prison, Henry Willius, was from the same area. The pay is good ($50 dollars a day!), the guards always protect you from even the highly-sociopathic criminals, and my employer has been extremely nice towards me since the first day. Of course, despite what I just said, if I told anyone this story like I am telling

“It only depends if you agree in cooperating with the Cryogenic Apparatus. If you don’t, your family may have - to be a little vague, if you pardon me - an ‘accident’.” His smirk was beginning to get on my nerves as he calmly took a Kleenex from the tissue box on the desk and wiped my saliva off his Vans. “Of course, maybe I’ll 'entertain ' myself with their brains for a little while. According to you, of course, you believe that my science is just entertainment to me, myself and I. Shall I have your permission to do so?” He laughed at his own joke, casually tossing the Kleenex behind him. “When I get out of here, I will make sure that the authorities tear this place apart, you little piece of -” I stopped suddenly as the guard’s gun came dangerously close to my right eye. Suddenly a growing suspicion coursed through my veins like a race car in a drag race. “What do you mean, if I ‘cooperate’ with the Cryogenic Apparatus? What exactly do you mean by

Grabbing the camcorder, I activated its night vision feature and surveyed my surroundings. The chamber that I was in resembled a decrepit hospital room, with large shards of broken glass lining the edge 's of the room 's peeling walls and a cracked porcelain counter-top containing a rusty sink. I rubbed my head and immediately felt the rough polymer bandages that were swathed tightly around my forehead, the dried blood coming off in flakes on my hands like dandruff. I then peered at the adjacent chambers, noticing a dead body in one chamber and toppled furniture in the other. How is that possible? All the equipment in here is bolted to the ground, I thought fearfully. What fresh hell is this, where prisoners can rip out bolted-down furniture with the