Chapter 3

You did't kill two hundred.


The ear-piercing sound continued for a good sixty seconds before it transformed into a tingling at the back of my head. I got the slightest urge to find the device where it was coming and smash it to pieces. Everything inside the place was getting on my nerves, even the persons in it. I had to contain the great need to kill everyone that my eyes set on.

“Thank goodness I’m hungry,” said Old Joe, standing up.

My two inmates lined up before the metal rails and I followed their suit reluctantly. One by one officer came into view as the barrier opened up. We walked in silence, in groups of threes with officers in tow, a baton in their hands. We were led in a canter after some time. Inside were prisoners alike me, lined up for food.

The idea of eating made my stomach churned in a revolution. I had no appetite for anything at all and the greasy smell of food was only making me sick. I wanted to puke although I haven’t eaten for hours. Yet, I need to do as I was told, I grabbed the food tray and copied the persons before me.

There was nothing on the counter but a glob of mashed unknown so I had no choice at all. When it was my turn the server eyed me with disgust. “Kids these days,” the guy muttered his breath which I dismissed with a raised shoulder.

I set my tray down and sat in with Russel and Old Joe.

“What makes you think, I want you sitting beside me?” grumbled Russel. I shrugged my shoulders, taking a spoonful of the food in my mouth. I coughed it out as soon as the horrendous taste made contact with my buds. It was that awful, almost inedible. Laughter erupted with the two guys from my reaction.

“Well, this is no fucking food.” I wiped off my mouth with the back of my hand. “How could you possibly eat this?” I rubbed my tongue with the back of my hand.

“You’ll get used to it,” commented Old Joe still laughing. “You just got to swallow it. An aching stomach is worse than the taste. Pinch your nose and hold your breath. That trick works on me. We criminals can’t afford to be picky with food.”

“Eat it three times a day, I bet you would,” Russel butted in. “You don’t want to get hungry in here. Eat. Don’t be such a wuss you’re not a kid anymore.”

I shook my head, tilted it upward to meet the artificial lights of the room. I squeezed my eyes shut as the chair beside Old Joe scraped the floor. A stranger sat down beside me; I could feel eyes scrutinizing my movements.

“What the fuck are you doing here Edmund?” I heard Russel asked the incomer. “Don’t make any commotions here. Get back to your buds.”

“Why” Don’t you fucking miss me, man?” I opened my eyes to meet a guy roughly around Russel’s age, bald shiny head with a cat-like smile. I sensed oozing trouble as his gaze hovered to mine and refused to leave. “I won’t cause any fuss; I just want to meet the new one here. I’m Edmund Price.” He held up his right hand in my direction. I only stared at it without the intention of ever shaking. After a minute, the hand dropped to his side. “We want someone with your expertise on our side.”

“We?” I asked timidly. I knew what he was getting at but I played along.

“Yeah, but most likely it was me. I need your fucking brain in my team, kiddo. The central station? Never thought, the Cuckoo would be a kid. I would say it doesn’t make sense but here you are in front of my very own fucking eyes. Wow!” Edmund exclaimed while repeatedly licking his lips in excitement. “You’re a genius. It wasn’t just the central…tell me about the—”

I cut the man with my hand; he was spouting too much information that I wanted my inmates to know. “What do you really want? I won’t join in anything, so please excuse me, I’m busy…eating.” I took another spoonful of the glob to my mouth. I tried my best not to cringe as I swallowed down the poison. “What now?” I added in a somewhat irritated voice. 

“Think about it, would you? And kid, don’t eat that trash, here.” Edmund handed me a single packet of saltine crackers— which I gladly too. “Let me know kid, no pressure,” he added before standing up to leave, the smirk on his face couldn’t be erased for some reason.

“The Cuckoo? You? Impossible…”

I looked up at the eyes of the old murdered in front of me. “Says who? People often judge others by the way they look at you, kids would be no harm because they look sweet and innocent, but not all. In reality, everyone is capable of doing unimaginable things, things you couldn’t possibly comprehend.”

You didn’t kill two hundred. You killed thousands, thousands of innocent people,” cried the old man, his eyes bulging with fury.

I cocked my head to the side giving him a measured look. “Says the ruthless vendetta? Would you put me on your list? I wish you would,” I said laughing, stuffing the crackers inside my pants.

“Dinners up! Hassle guys!” one of the officers shouted over a speaker. Consequently, a bell rang in the distance. I stood up without looking at the questioning eyes of my cellmates and took my dramatic leave.

I had no time explaining myself to them or to anyone in particular, how could I do that? There were just too many hurdles in my way at the moment. I couldn’t take too many risks or else everything I worked for would crumble down to the ground. I need to keep my mouth shut and fists at bay.

I slumped down the hard mattress as soon as we reached the cell; sleep was the only solace I could get in my new world.

It was the only escape I have.

Comments (1)
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Shannon George
gladly *took

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