The Prison In Walking Dead Novels & Stories

He’s totally enjoying this. “Well, my sources say they were able to clear out the serial murderers hideout faster, so they left immediately. They did not want to be away from you for too long.” “And they have arrived here?” “Indeed.” “Where?” Maddox opens his mouth to answer, but Sasha beats him to it. “At prison area. You know the general one that’s meant is kind of underground and holds our prisoners??” I nod. “They are there. They brought prisoners with them.”

I open the door and Stan walks in first, with Kinsley close behind him. I walk in and take Elizabeth’s hand having her follow me. There is no ill scent in our dungeons. They are more like cells for the prisoners. We keep them clean for those who work here. Nobody deserve to work in filth particularly those who are protecting the Pack and its members.

The prison was made with a strong metal called — Felanium, which was capable of making werelions weaker. Melinda's once vibrant spirit was now worn thin, and she found solace in a corner of the prison, her body curled protectively. Her weary eyes reflecting the torment of her prolonged captivity. The deafening silence around the prison was broken by a grating sound—the metallic scrape of a key being inserted into the lock of the prison door. Melinda's heart skips a beat as the heavy door swings open, revealing Kieran and some other Lakewood warriors. Kieran was disheveled and emaciated, yet his eyes were still gleaming with determination.

The emergency strobes pulsed in rhythmic, crimson flashes across the concrete hallway, painting the darkness in the color of fresh arterial blood. Outside Sub-4, the prison was tearing itself apart. The sharp, metallic clatter of heavy boots, screaming sirens, and the echoing slams of automated iron gates resonated through the utility shafts. But as we slipped back into the shadow of the northern catacombs, the panic on the upper tiers felt distant, almost orchestrated.

The sound of keys on the door jolted my attention to it. My senses are dull from the silver and wolfsbane, but I can hear keys and voices. Sure enough, the doors open, and Alpha Liam, Sage, the warlock, and the guard who locked me up enter the room. The area surrounding the four cells is open. We are in the basement of the packhouse, which is basically our city hall. “Here’s the prisoner.” The guard states proudly as if he’s why I didn’t escape. I inwardly roll my eyes at his lame attempt to impress the Alpha.

I nodded my head at him, and continued on my way. "Luna," several guys said, as they bowed their heads to me. I smiled at them as best as I could. Eric opened the door to the house, and once again turned to face me. "I'm sure," I told him, and passed him as I made my way inside. It took us longer to reach the part of the cells. Only once had I visited the cells that Alpha Jackson had. Dylan's underground prison was a lot bigger than the one from my former pack. We had been walking through a dim corridor, but I saw a huge metal door ahead of us.

"My sister wants to kill my baby! Help us! I shock my head nonstop, started to cry. "No! Kristen, that's not the true!" I was caught by a pair of big hands that almost lost my balance. I was held down like a criminal, and my ears were filled with my heavy, painful breathing. I didn't know what happened next, but the next thing I remember I lost my conscious. When I woke up, the windowless room told me that I was still in prison. The damp, rancid smell brought me back from my dream. I'm still in this damn prison, where the Adams' family secretly executed prisoners.

I could do it all the days of my life until I was able to lay my hands on their fucking Alpha King. "My king," one of the guards said with a curt nod as I walked into the prison premises. I didn't bother to respond and made my way out back where the underground prison was located. I got to the entrance and for a brief moment, I felt my dead heart skip a beat. I blinked, shocked to the core. One of my men pushed open the gate to the underground prison, and Lydia, my right hand and resident witch, took a step in, leading the way as she made to unlock the prison.

Within the vast, dimly lit expanse of the repurposed factory, now transformed into a makeshift prison, an air of palpable tension hung heavily. The two-story building was segmented into numerous private cells, each imprisoning individuals from four towns – a mix of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas ensnared during the operation. These cramped quarters, typically housing two or three captives, bore the weight of their fear and uncertainty. In one such cell, a family of four huddled together, their faces ghostly pale.

Cesare howled in despair but was quickly dragged into a police car. He would be sent straight to the most terrifying prison in Cecile–the Siren Prison. It was a place that jailed only the most vicious psychopaths and death-row monsters. The rest of his life would be spent in endless abuse and despair, and even the luxury of a dignified death would be denied to him. I watched the police disappear into the distance with a satisfied smirk. Wade then walked up beside me. His long fingers brushed gently across my cheek, his gaze as deep as the night sky.