The troops marched silently towards the door of the cell. One of them reached down and opened the lock, swinging the door open with a clang. The soldier gestured the MFOYA out of the cell. The MFOYA slowly walked out, looking at the faces of the soldiers, as if searching for some clue in their eyes that would signal their fate.

The soldiers gestured the MFOYA into a lineup along the wall of the cell. All of this was done in complete silence, almost reverence. It sent chills through me.

Once this had been accomplished, the troops stepped back into a line about 2 feet opposite the MFOYA. It frightened me…I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

A moment passed. Finally, the Angel came through the space created by the two groups. He walked all the way to the end of the line of MFOYAs, then turned and walked back again. Still no sound from anyone.

He walked halfway once again, stopping midpoint.

He issued a quiet command. “It is time.”

As soon as he said that, the troops quickly dispersed, and split up into different groups. Some were busy bricking up windows, others were on a search and destroy mission, shredding any document or paper that they could find. Another group was pulling cables out of the walls, another destroying every piece of technology in sight. The organized chaos was too much for some of the MFOYA, who hung their heads and began to sob.

Within 30 minutes, the troops had completed their mission. There was no longer any light coming into the room from any source, other than the opening in the wall behind us, making it difficult to see.

The Angel turned to the MFOYA. “You are very lucky that we have souls. We have decided to let you live. Unfortunately, you may find your new lives very different than what you’re used to. No longer will you be able to inflict your hate on the rest of the world. No longer will anyone ever have to listen to you, or read your blatherings. You have been judged to be unfit to live amongst us. In fact, the only people that should have to put up with you….is you.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of a leper colony? Well, you are now living in your own, created by you. You will have no contact with the outside world, you will have no computers, no phones, no way to reach out to anyone outside of this room. Here, you will live the rest of your natural lives, with the people you have chosen to align with. There will never be any attention paid to you, in fact, your fate will never be mentioned to the outside world. It will be as if you just disappeared. There will be no tears, no memorials, it will be as if you never existed. You will be fed, clothed and tended to by the troops, but as you have already seen, they will never communicate with you.”

“There’s an old saying, you are known by the company that you keep. Well, enjoy each other’s company, because that is all you will ever have. Of course, I’m sure in a short period of time, since you will have no one else to direct your hate to, you’ll start turning on each other. Such a shame.”

With that last statement, the Angel walked over to me. “If you’re ready to leave, I’ll be happy to escort you out.”

I looked over at the MFOYA. They were looking at each other, as if they were dogs sizing each other up to fight. It had begun already.

I had seen enough. I took the Angel’s extended arm, and we walked through the opening in the wall. As we walked away, I could hear the troops begin to board up the entrance. I didn’t look back.

We left the same way that I had come in, stepping over the destruction that was all around us. We hurried towards the grate, and stepped up and out of the hell that we had been in. I felt the sun on my body, I felt my lungs sucking in the good clean air. I felt alive.

I turned to the Angel. “Thank you for coming, and thank you for saving me. I got myself in way too deep, and I didn’t think I was ever going to make it out. But I’ll have one hell of a story for my editor.”

Visions of the Pulitzer Price were running through my head, which quickly evaporated when the Angel next spoke.

“You won’t write this story. I meant what I said, the MFOYA’s fate will never be shared with anyone.”

I realized that the Angel had meted out the perfect punishment for the MFOYA. What kept them alive was the attention. They needed it, the way that ordinary people need food and water.

I was being entrusted with this secret. I turned to the Angel and vowed that I would never reveal the story.

“Thank you again for what you have done.”

“You’re welcome. It’s time for you and I to leave. Travel safe.”

I started to walk away, then turned back. “You never did tell me your name.”

He smiled at me. “You can just call me Gabe.”

Then he walked away, mingling with the crowd, until I could no longer see him.

The thought occurred to me a few hours later, after I had been home, and cleaned the MFOYA residue off of me. The Angel had told me that I could never report this story. All journalists that I know, however, always think they have a best-seller deep inside them, just waiting to get out. So, maybe mine would just have to be classified as “Fiction”. I sat down and began to write.