Chapter Text
You weren't supposed to be here.
Guards escorted you down a horrifically insane hallway where prisoners constantly reached out their filthy hands through the bars, trying to lash onto anything they could to satisfy their deadly needs. You swallow uncomfortably at their freakish nature, feeling the unshakable weight of dread and apprehension seeping further and further into your bones. Tight metal cuffs added to the freezing cold blisters that were suffocating your body, stiffening you up, causing you to sweat off your riled nerves. It was atrocious.
You weren't meant to be here. You had tried to reason with the court officials, officers, friends- anyone who was willing to listen, but no one would help. They didn't believe you. In this demented town, no one believed you. It was a place where first guess was first announced guilty for whatever you were suspected for. They needed answers and were commonly known to take the first defeat to settle those frustrating questions through. And you just happened to be one of those victims.
You didn't even know the people they accused you of killing. They were teenagers, and yeah, you weren't that much older yourself, but you were definitely mature enough to stay away from the likes of those trouble makers. Nine teenagers had been found with their throats slashed, arms removed and bodies in nasty, bloated bags floating lifelessly in the creek. Five were female and the others male. You hadn't known any of them, and you begged and begged the counsel to understand this fact through. They didn't. And that was ridiculous. How could someone like you even think to harm the smallest annoying fly?
It didn't matter. You thought as the dark, concrete walls settled in more and more, providing a bigger cage than the one in your head. You tried to ignore all the raging, disturbing, or inappropriate things all the other inmates were shouting and focused on the building dread formulating inside your body. Who knows what was to happen to you here. Prison was an unpredictable place, especially when they mixed women and men together.
Your trance faced an interruption as the guards yanked you to a stop and pushed you in the direction of a randomly open cell. You tumbled in, biting back a pained noise when they obnoxiously grabbed your wrists and unlocked the cuffs. Immediately you went in to rub them, registering the relief and soreness that was commencing. You turned to look back at them, eyes wide and full of sorrow as you watched them close and lock the heavy bars to your cell. They didn't say anything besides a rude, demanding, "Behave" before looking straight and walking away.
You watched them go, finding it ironic having never imagined being a sad, lonely person gripping onto the cold bars of a prison cell while seeking out any kind of hope from within. "Hey sweetie," Someone called out, and you gazed across the hall at the cell in front of you.
A man wearing a filthy white jumpsuit, much like the one you wore, waved his fingers at you invitingly. He was smirking, half his head shaved and tattoos decorating his dark tan skin. He raised his eyebrows at noticing your attention and pointed down at his nether regions. "See what you do to me," He hollered.
Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his exposed erection bobbing out from between the zipper of his pants. You flushed, making a startled noise and turning around to face the bland walls of your cell, chest heavy with strangled thought.
"Now think about what I'm gonna do to you, sweetie," You heard him say, his voice a frightening type of determined malice that made you quiver in fear and disgust, "Soon as I get myself outta' this damn cell, you're mine."
"Not if I get to her first!" Some other anonymous voice shouted, causing a match of tone to begin.
Vile filled your mouth as tears pricked your eyes. So soon it was starting, and you had only just got here. To think of every hour, every day and week that you'd be facing, each with countless comments and possibilities of being harassed. It made you weak. You sat down on the single cot beside you, trying your best to shut out all the voices and conversations bursting out behind you.
Why? You wondered. Why did this happen?
...
You spent quite some time on the cot before deciding to move behind some sort of metal, embedded chair at the side of the room. It was uncomfortable but a major achievement in getting most of the filthy inmates to stop talking to or about you. You curled your knees close to your chest and lean your head against the wall, trying hard not to cry as every little stress danced in the front of your mind. It was hard not to ignore. After all, you've basically just lost your life for no reason, and it was probably going to be controlled on terribly painful levels.
You were jerked from your ill state of mind by the sound of panicked voices and heavy ruffling chains scraping against the concrete floor. Slowly standing to your cold, numb feet, you gaze out the cell, confused and wondering what it was that had the other inmates so shaken. Even the big, scary tattoo freak who first commented you was easing back in his cell, looking mortified. You blink, going to the end of your cell and looking out.
The sounds of clanking, metal chains filled the air as multiple guards passed by, each set of four surrounding a single prisoner that was wrapped in chains from neck to ankle. Your eyes widened impossibly further as you watched them begin to pass by. The prisoners didn't even look up. You weren't sure if they even could. They just kept their heads down as they shuffled in their chains, moving on slowly down the hall.
Goosebumps immediately devoured your body. What had they done to be so feared, so secured?
Like many other things, your questions went unanswered as a pair of guards surprised you by stopping in front of your cell. Gasping, you quickly backed up, watching in both fear and confusion as they unlocked your cell. The gates opened with a croak. For a moment, you wondered if they wanted something from you, but that wonder was crushed when the two guards stepped apart to reveal a taller, much more masculine form.
You silently gasp, heart freezing in your throat.
There, standing tall and big in a faded grey jumpsuit was a man. He had mid-long, brown curly hair, an unreadable expression and the biggest hands you had ever seen. His face bore a scar on the left eye. You weren't sure of its color, just that the owner most likely had no intention of showing it.
Unaware that you were staring in awe, the guards began to snap open the many, many sets of chains on the massive beast, seemingly kind of rough as he stood still and faced the treatment. A touch of affliction burned inside you. No one should be treated so badly, not even if they could scare the pants off of champion wrestlers. You squint your eyes in unease.
Once the cuffs and chains were clear of his body, the guards gave him a nudge and the stranger walked forward, slowly. You moved back, unsure of what to do or say as he continued to slowly approach the innards of the cell. Thus being so focused on the new comer, you gasped when you heard and saw the guards locking the doors back into place. Eagerly, you wished to say something, to call out and claim security in this insane situation, but the words were iced up in your throat as you back up into the cell wall.
Alarmed as the large stranger continued to roam forward, your eyes quickly looked back and forth and all around, but there was nothing. Nothing would protect you should he wish to harm you. You wince at the realization of hopelessness and try not to panic. "Please," You say, voice on the verge of breaking.
His head turned in what was in painfully slow motion, the dim light shining in his one dark brown eye and revealing the haggard, scarred appearance of the other one. You gasp again. On his face was a look of suspicion of some sort, his eyes intensely focused in on you, staring. In all honesty, you weren't sure what he was thinking. You had no clue. All you knew was that he was close and getting closer, his bare feet a tune in the thick air.
Your heart rate picked up and you bowed your head in mortification, "Please..." Tears sparkled in your eyes, "Please don't." You press yourself into the wall as much as you could, turning your head down and trying not to think too hard about what was about to happen. Regardless, your body quivered anyway and your breathing became irregular.
He stopped in front of you.
He was tall. So tall. You didn't stand a chance. Out of motion, you could feel his body heat, his breath, his entire existence. It towered over you, seeming to eat you whole. You breathe out shakily, preparing for the pain you knew was about to unfold.
The stranger looked you over, his eyes tracing every square inch of your being. It only lasted a second, but he was backing away in the same manner in which he had approached. You tear open your eyes, silently gaping at the sudden drop of expectations. He was walking away, slowly. You blinked, trying to answer yourself if this was real or not. Were you even still alive?
The relief settled quickly at the thought that maybe he didn't intend on harming you, but the fear was still there. Hesitantly, your body relaxed and you let out a few short breaths, watching him idly as you remain pressed against the wall. The way he moved was so... strange. Short steps and slow motions. He almost looked like a zombie.
He stopped a few feet in front of the cot, staring at it for a few long seconds before turning his head to look back at you. On instinct, you smile and nod your head, trying not to sound too nervous, "Y-you can lie down... I don't mind."
As if satisfied, the man looked back to the ground and took the last steps he needed in order to be able to sit down. You watched him as he lied down, face pointed toward the wall as he stretched his body out comfortably. Then there was silence besides what the outside of your, apparently, shared cell provided. You stand your ground, watching and waiting to see if the man intended on doing anything else, but he merely laid there, motionless.
You finally grow the courage to scoot back to your spot behind the chair, legs trembling lightly as you slid down the wall. Curling your legs back up, you wondered if you should engage in conversation, possibly try to get to know your cell mate and make friends. He didn't seem to wanna harm you so far, so maybe that was a opportunity to get to know him better. But what if he didn't want anything to do with you? Surely he would have said something if he did. You flush, mixed up in your troubled thoughts. Too much had happened and both of you looked to be suffering a certain amount of irrelevant stress.
Other questions and probabilities popped up, keeping your brain on auto. Who was he? What had he done to be chained up like that? Why did he approach like that only to swerve away last second? Where had he been when you were escorted here? Had the guards made a mistake bringing you here? There was only one bed. Maybe it was an accident.
You gasped when a loud beeping started happening, and walls began to slowly drop in front of each cell door, including yours. You look over the chair, eyes widening at the white, garage like wall that was settling down over the cell bars, blocking all view and noise of the other inmates. Gazing to the cot, you see that the man was nonplussed and unaffected by the loud, impetuous noise.
You shuddered, hoping he'd stay that way even towards you. You didn't need anymore attention than what you knew you wouldn't be able to avoid getting.
You couldn't sleep that night. The floor remained cold and your body tense as you stayed in your spot on the floor. Besides the casual roll or twitch of the quiet man on the bed, there was nothing. You had tried lying down on the ground, but it was just too hard, too cold, too risky. You couldn't sleep. There was still too much going on inside your head, and you didn't think it would ever stop.
When the obnoxious sounds of the big, white doors opening happened, you accidentally gasped, but whether it was you or the loud noise that woke your cell mate, you did not know. Sound began to fill up the space, vague and incomprehensible. Footsteps broke out down the hall along with the clatter of keys and dark, blue army boots. You watched as guards stopped upon each cell, holding a tray in their hands. The one that stopped in front of you snickered, bent over and slid the cheap, plastic tray in through a tiny gap underneath the cell.
You blink, stomach growling at the thought of food. You hadn't eaten since yesterday morning before you were found guilty, and although prison food was not the most decent idea, you knew it was the most you'd ever get. Scooting forward, you look down at the tray, noting that the food was rather plain and boring, however filling though. You were about to take the hard plastic spoon and dig in, but a reminder of who exactly you were with settled in.
They only brought one tray of food. You realized and looked up at the man sitting up right on the bed. How had you not noticed that? Perhaps it was your hunger and lack of sleep driving you into insanity. "Here..." You mumble timidly, pushing the tray forward gently, "You go first. I... I can wait."
You stare down at the tray, waiting patiently for him to take it. Your stomach was aching and you wanted to hurl by how empty it made itself out to be. But the staring at and longing for food only grew whenever the strange man didn't make a move. You look up at him only to see that he was staring right back, his eyes intense. You swallowed and lowered your head, saying as softly as you could, "Please eat."
You had manners. Nothing would ever take that away. People knew you to be nothing more than soft spoken and kind. You put others before yourself. It was just a force of habit, even when it came down to prison mates.
The man continued to look at you, his one good eye feeling as if it were cutting through you. You give up, plopping back against the wall and covering your face, now taking in the added fact that you weren't going to be able to even eat. You suck in a breath, downed with fear, hunger, stress and pain. You'd be surprised if you could even live through the day.
The sound of plastic scraping across the hard floor put your tears on halt and your head lifted. Your eyes met the slowly moving form of the large man who slowly inched the tray back in your direction. Seriously, how did you not hear him? Your eyes were wide as you watch him sit back on the cot, staring at you with that unreadable expression. Was he not hungry?
"But..." You look down at the tray for a second, eyes confused before gazing back up at the man, "What about you?"
As if right on cue, the cell gate was opened. You gasped and looked up, seeing the same four guards from yesterday. They lifted their fingers and made a ticking noise, "Tc, tc, tc. Here Mikey, Mikey."
Mikey? Was that his name?
"Come on you lazy fuck," Another guard snapped.
You flinched, grabbing the tray before the guards crushed it as they scampered in. You gasp, pushing yourself against the wall as you watch them roughly grab at the man on the cot, forcing him to his feet and pushing him around. You reached out on instinct, hating seeing someone get treated so badly, but curled your fingers back in retaliation. There was nothing you could do except for watch as they attached a chain around his neck, linked it to his arms, behind his back and down to his ankles.
You noticed that the man did struggle, but it must have been from pain. You whimper, wishing you could help him.
"Eat up, little girl," A guard said as he guided the man out the gate, winking, "You've only got twenty five minutes before this prisons gonna be eating you."
One of the other guards scoffed at his joke, "Terry, come on, just lock the damn door already."
You watch, paralyzed, unable to properly process what just happened. Why were they having to cuff up that man like that, and why were they being so rude? Had he really done something that bad? You shudder, gripping loosely onto your food. As more and more of the similar guards began guiding the chained prisoners down the hall, you began to hear yesterday's random conversations picking back up.
"Twenty-five minutes, sweetie. Runnin' on about twenty-four now." The man with the tattoos hollered.
All you could do was slump, bathing in the unthinkable dreads this day would bring.