Black Pentagon Prison Novels & Stories

Upon closer inspection, it looks like a little shed meant to store gardening equipment, but looking past the façade, a steep dark staircase leads down to a basement. “Just, lead the way.” I feel so guilty for being curt with him, but I’m barely fighting against my nerves and that voice in my head telling me to turn around. It’s a prison. The basement is a prison, with long hallways, and heavy iron doors lining each side. Several guards look at me in surprise but don’t say anything. Smart. “How many prisoners are kept here?” “It can hold twenty.” Twenty. Twenty people could be suffering within these small cells, for whatever offense they’ve made towards Dante and his family. It sends shivers

As always, he bent down to brush a heated kiss across her lips before taking the seat across from her. "I'll bet you have news from Jonas," he said as soon as he was seated. "Did he call you, too? I'll kill him. I wanted to tell you myself." Trey laughed. "No, but when you texted me I had a feeling he'd called. What did he say?" After the Russians were found guilty they were shipped off to ADX Florence, in Colorado, a maximum security prison for the most dangerous criminals. But she knew the FBI White Collar Crimes Unit was still looking for the rest of Barkov's group.

Not so much for me, but Shotgun doesn't have a television and I know he will want to kill some time watching something before they hopefully let us out for breakfast. The entire prison is sectioned into pods that hold around eighty men. There are two floors of cells that circle an open area in the center. On the bottom floor, the center circle holds two phones, two televisions, and two kiosks where we can plug in a tablet and d******d games, music, and emails from a secure email site. The showers are also on the bottom floor as well as a bunch of tables for socializing but as far as I’m concerned, the less socializing, the better.

“The tattoo on Pete’s back is exact half. His back contains the lower half. Denis and his team have constructed a model based on the sketches that were handed over.” “Exact lower half?” Ben repeated. It was more of a question than a statement. “This could mean that he is one of the two or three key people in the organizations.” Tyrell asked half excited, half unconvinced looking at the frown on Ben’s face. “You’re not convinced?” Daniel lifted his face towards Ben. “No… he could be… but not sure why it feels more like an elaborate set-up.” Ben’s voice was laced with frustration. “Why did all the prisoners from yesterday die suddenly” Frank asked in concern.

Even the cells nearby were silent, a far cry from the liveliness when Frank had just entered the cell. Realizing that the coughing and metallic clanging was from deeper within his cell, Frank turned to see a frail, elderly white-haired man sitting in a corner, chained in oversized fetters. Anyone with keen eyes could see that his shoulder blade was pierced with metal hooks forged from a special alloy. The geezer was clearly a powerful martial artist, as the metal hook that cut into his bone effectively stopped his meridian nexus from charging. "This is Blackwater Prison, where Draconia's worst criminals are kept. So? What have you done that got you in here?"

Coleman replied. She was escorted out of the building and placed in an armored vehicle. The convoy drove for over an hour, taking a winding route through the city to prevent anyone from tracking their location. Finally, they arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. But as Old Madam Kent was led inside, she realized this was no ordinary warehouse. The building had been converted into a makeshift prison. Underground levels had been constructed, complete with cells, interrogation rooms, and security systems. This was Marcus Night's private detention facility, a place where he could hold prisoners beyond the reach of law enforcement or legal protections.

Romnick adjusted his airpods. Nicholas answered immediately. "Because he has access to their finances." "Oh." He continues. "That's actually important." Aiva looked offended. "You just realized that?" "Numbers aren't real." "They're literally real." "Agree to disagree." Because ahead the prison appeared a black compound surrounded by mountains isolated, heavily guarded place. A nightmare. Cinthye studied the building. "That's not a prison." Damien nodded. "It's a fortress." Unfortunately, they were right.

The lower dungeons of the High Council’s palace were built from a dense, volcanic basalt known simply as the black stone. Unlike the pristine white marble that coated the surface world, these subterranean vaults were designed to absorb all light, ensuring that any prisoner locked within their depths would spend their final days in absolute, sensory-deprived isolation.

Prisoner two-zero-zero-one ...... "As long as you're here, you are no Declan Oliver, you would be referred as Prisoner two-zero-zero-one. Do you understand?" I ignored the question, continuing my descent to a place I would then start to call home for the time being. Getting deep in thoughts, the officer stopped abruptly, making my forehead connect to his rough and musky smelling uniform. "Are you listening to me kid? When I ask you something, you answer, got it?" Pitch raised, he asked without turning his back.

"He said that you can talk to him. He's waiting, please follow me." I looked at Secretary Martin first and smiled. "I'll be waiting here, Miss Kira." I nodded and followed the police officer. We walked down a long hallway and it was quiet. They said it was a private facility for prisoners who had committed major offenses. But contrary to my expectations that they would be given special treatment, each cell had a simple bed and pillows. That's all and nothing more. I saw that there were prisoners watching us as we walked and there were also those who seemed to be unaware. They have their own world and I also see prisoners reading the Bible. They were all given the Bible to repent their sins a