Prison Break Novels & Stories

Damian Pov I was making breakfast when my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. I opened it while I flipped pancakes on the griddle. The message said "Damian, it's Sophia. I got a new phone in prison. I wanted to reach out because I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for everything. For trying to sabotage your relationship with Bella. For working with Lila. For the smear campaign. You deserved better from me. I let my feelings cloud my judgment and I hurt people. I'm working on myself in here. I hope you and Bella find happiness. You both deserve it."

She finds it hard to have a decent night sleep, above all, what kept irritating her was the constant thought that perhaps, if she was with AbdulRasheed, things would've been better. Not even when AbdulRasheed had called to tell her that a sentence had been passed and that Abubakar was to spend thirty years in prison with hard labour, coupled with him being admitted to the mental asylum because he show signs of being not mentally okay. Not even when she was told Aliya had been sentenced to fifteen years in prison had her fear leased one bit.

Her hands shake, but her eyes never leave mine. She understands what she is now. Just another piece of leverage. I let the silence thicken, then lift the phone again. “Minute six,” I say, checking my watch, “the first story breaks. Your connection to the money trail. After that, it doesn’t stop.” On the other end, he exhales softly, almost amused. “Do you really think you can send me to prison with this?” he asks, voice smooth, confident. The corner of my mouth lifts as I smile slightly. “Prison?” I echo. “No. I’m dismantling you.”

He asked and we all moved closer to the television. A woman was giving a live report, “A Prison Breakout,” the headlines read. “Any idea who escapes?” I asked. “It doesn't say,” Braden answered. All of a sudden a lot of phones began to ring. Martin, Braden, Clay, Ryan and even Michael. I touched my phone but I didn't get any call. The look on their faces told me. “Jacob.” “No!”

"He's... different than I expected. Yesterday he took me to this tiny Colombian restaurant in Brooklyn. The owner knew his mother—" The TV behind us crackles to life interrupting her. Red breaking news banner floods the screen. Prison riot at Metropolitan Detention Center— I turn my attention to the tv. "—mass breakout during what authorities are calling a coordinated attack one week ago. Among the escaped inmates is disgraced business mogul former CEO Marco Valdez, serving time for multiple charges including attempted murder—" The anchor's voice fades to white noise. Marco. Free. "Turn it off." Clara doesn't move, her face pale. "Did you—"

“If you don’t pull me up, you’ll sink too!” Levi looked down, his gaze grim. Ellise on his wrist moved, sprouting a cloud thread, forming a spider-web-like network that penetrated the rock walls on all sides. He grabbed Arista’s arm, trying to pull her up, but couldn’t. Arista’s legs had sunk into the mud, and the muddy ground made Arista’s clay feet soft, almost merging with the earth. Arista urged desperately, “Be strong, be strong!” Levi pulled with his hand. “Snap!” A sound, and he had broken Arista’s arm.

She clutched her tablet to her chest like a lifeline. "Trent!" she gasped, grabbing my arm. "You need to see this. Now." I stumbled back into the living room, Mom's grip on my arm vice-like as she steered me towards the TV. With trembling hands, she fumbled with the remote, turning up the volume. The stern face of a news anchor filled the screen, her voice cutting through the tense silence of our living room. "Breaking news: Maxwell Stewart, former associate of Richard Donovan, has reportedly escaped from maximum security prison just hours ago."

The news flickered on. Specials Break Peace The screen flashed below the anchor woman. Specials break peace I read to myself again. “Turn it up Micheal” I ordered. He rolled his eyes but obliged. “Peace has been held for 15 years and today an extremely dangerous special broke it. We are unaware what caused the incident to spark. Soldiers were deployed to Barker Street. Officials have not yet released the number of killed or injured, but we can tell from footage it is a large number. We are estimating at least 50”

I leapt out of bed, shoving my feet into the first slippers I could find and hurried downstairs with Kaila right behind me. The word "Break-in" kept echoing in my mind as I turned to the TV and switched to a news channel, running my hand through my hair. My throat dried out as I recognised the officer being interviewed, it was the same man we always bought beers for to get a longer talk time with Charlie. He now had bruises on his face and one arm in a sling. Behind him, I could see the crumbled parts of the prison fence. A wall I thought would be practically impossible to bring down.

Bert said. “But let’s say he escaped and then was acquitted of the original crime – ” “NO.” “See?” Connor said. “Why not?” Sebastian whined, like a little kid being told he couldn’t open his Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve. “A prison break is a separate crime,” Bert said. “And it’s one they’re not going to let you walk away from.” “But he wouldn’t have to break out if they hadn’t put him here,” I seethed. “Nobody’s breaking out,” Connor said.