[center][img]http://rp.alexarnold.ca/flagg/flagg_p.jpg[/img]
— Rikers Island Prison, NYC —[/center]

A rhythmic tapping echoed down the hallway of the solitary confinement wing of Rikers Prison. Eventually a drumming on the door joined it. All at once it stopped and in the deafening silence to follow there came the sound of every lock disengaging at once.

The door at the end swung open and he walked out, steel shod cowboy boots clicking on the floor. Before he got halfway the alarms started and a guard turned the far corner, baton in hand. With a simple gesture Flagg threw the man against the wall with all of the care and gentleness of being hit by a car. Bones shattered and blood splashed across the floor.

As more doors opened tentatively behind him and the alarms continued, he laughed.

And so he lead his steadily growing gang of inmates through the prison, throwing cell doors open. It wasn't long before he never had to raise a finger against the guards. The mob did that for him, their bloodlust rising ever higher as the prison erupted in a riot that no lockdown ever had a hope of containing.