Prisoners Poems Novels & Stories

he ordered. In the adjacent large cell, all the prisoners were disabled women—some limb-torn, others disfigured or tongue-severed. Many wounds were grotesquely untreated, festering and maggot-infested. The Capital Guard entered and, horrified by the sight, struggled to reconcile it with Madison's mansion. They likened the scene to hell itself. Steeling themselves against the overwhelming stench, they escorted each woman out one by one. In the main courtyard, Priest Abram and the other priests continued their prayer to the Moon Goddess.

Another prisoner said from the midst of the others. "We fight til death, side by side," A prisoner said with a high pitch sound. The sound was coming from the last man standing amongst the prisoners. Jon mused and thought about the word that he heard. Roy and Cara also thought about it, wondering why the prisoner could have said that. Jon seemed to be the only one who understood the statement. "Could it be you, Aaron," He whispered, silently and walked upfront. "Without fear of falling but with the aim of emerging with victory," Jon said with a loud voice and walked up to the prisoners. He walked slowly such that the prisoners patted ways and divided themselves into two so that Jon would wal

"Are any of the guards missing?" The guard shook his head with a grim expression on his face. "We are still on it, Luna. For now, none that I know of" As we rounded the corner, I caught sight of a group of prisoners huddled in one of the cells. Their eyes weredowncast and their bodies bore the marks of mistreatment. My heart clenched at the sight, and I found myself wondering what crimes they had committed to land them in such a wretched place. Pausing, I turned to the guard, my voice laced with a quiet intensity. "Who are they? What have they done to deserve this?"

I have been trapped in this place for all these years while they have been enjoying the lives without me. I wonder how Nana Helen and Henry are right now.do they miss me or have they forgotten about me like everyone else seemed to have. I was prisoner number 218 somehow my name got lost when the third jailor after Philip had arrived, he was new, he didn't know anything about me, he only addressed me as prisoner 218 not like the others who knew who I was, This time I was nothing.

RPOV Songs: Should Have Known Better by Sufjan Stevens, The Ghost Inside by Broken Bells, Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap It had been two full weeks and I was nowhere near being closer to escaping my luxurious prison. It was probably a little harsh calling it a prison since it was far more lavish than any palace I could remember—little less a jail cell—but my stuck up captors were refusing to let me leave. They insisted it was for the best right now and that when the time came they would personally escort me home, but how could I trust a group of people I had never met and knew absolutely nothing about?

She needed him by her side. Bruno spoke with Sondra's parents, believing they had the right to know what was happening with their daughter. "Thank you for informing us. I knew Sondra would end up in trouble sooner or later. We will travel there to see her case, although I don't think there's much we can do. It's clear that she's involved," Bruno said. Emma listened in silence, tears streaming down her face. After all, Sondra was her daughter. Meanwhile, in a prison in Milan, the redhead couldn't believe her luck. She was confined in that prison where the majority of inmates were there due to drug-related issues.

Vera led me deeper into the compound where the prisoners were kept and with every step I could feel them before I saw them, could feel their hopelessness pressing against my shields like physical weight, could feel decades of broken dreams and shattered spirits concentrated in this one place until it was almost too much to bear. "They've given up." Vera's voice was matter-of-fact. "Most of them have been here over a year. Some over five. At some point you stop hoping for rescue and start hoping for death instead."

Better than nothing. Kael jerks his chin forward, silent, steady. The prisoner drags himself upright, one hand pressed tight over his bleeding ribs, shard flashing like a last prayer. No words. No time. We move. I don’t know if we’re running toward freedom or just deeper into something that will wear our skins like trophies. It doesn’t matter. The only way out is through.

I peered into the darkness, realizing the risks that lay ahead. "This is our escape route," Vincent explained, his voice filled with determination. "We'll go through this pit and make our way outside the Nighthowler's borders." The reality of their plan hit me. It was daring, fraught with danger, yet it was their only chance at freedom. I felt a sense of unity with the others as we stood there, all of us yearning for liberation from this grim existence. Suddenly, the man who had assaulted me earlier was brought before us, his expression defiant. He was reprimanded for his actions, facing the consequences of his heinous act. The collective judgment of the prisoners was palpable, a unity forge

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE Third POV Hours crawled by in the concrete prison, each minute stealing more hope from the trapped warriors. The emergency lights cast sickly shadows on sweat-streaked faces as the room grew increasingly hotter, the air thick and stale. The initial unity brought by their pack song had long since faded into exhausted silence. One of the warriors sat slumped against the wall, his injured shoulder a constant reminder of their failed escape attempt. Beside him, was another who had stopped trying to wipe away the dried blood on his face. What was the point? They were all going to die here anyway. The tension in the room was like a stretched rubber band, ready to snap at any