The Prison Novels & Stories

The first thing Quinn saw was an aerial shot from one of the transports that ferried prisoners into the Ideological Quarantine Area, or IQA-14. What had once been a good, honest gravel pit, with a lake at the bottom, had been transformed into a primitive open-air prison where inmates were free to do anything they pleased so long as they stayed in the pit. Not that they had much choice, since the sides were too steep to climb and weapon emplacements ringed the top. Thanks to the rebellion, there were thousands of what amounted to political prisoners, or unreliables as the government called them. Some were true die-hard loyalists, but many were little more than street people.

"Hey, who are you? Are you planning to take the girl away? Take me too!" "Please, take me too!" "Me too! Help! Help! I need your help!" "I'll pay you for the rest of my life, as long as you free me!" "Me too! I'll do anything if you help me!" "Help! Help! Help!" Instantly all the prisoners were in an uproar and they tried to whine at the man. The man looked increasingly agitated and a little scared as they were all noisy now. Which made the man just stare at Selena who covered her ears because of the noise and commotion.

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.

After all, everyone knows what happens to abusers in prison. Then I was here, in this stinking, ugly, foul place, locked in a cage like I was some animal, isolated from everything, from everyone. They said I would be here for a few days. They call it adaptation, but I couldn't believe anyone could adapt to this, that anyone could adapt to bars, restricted freedom, this slop they gave me to eat. No, adapting was impossible.

I didn’t know where we were, but I knew we passed through the desert somewhat, passed through many deserted roads and many valleys and hills. The prison was so far away that any prisoner who tried to escape, either by luck or by strategy, would not be able to make it alive back into the city. It was from this instance, I knew I was dead. Arriving at the prison, “Move it, everybody!” the jailer who sat in the van with us shouted at the top of his voice. He held a bludgeon stick in his hand. It was made of metal such that when he hit it on any erring prisoner, such a prisoner might die.

The towering gates of the maximum-security prison loomed ahead, a foreboding sight that signaled the beginning of his incarcerated life. Upon arrival, the air crackled with authority as officers meticulously followed protocols to admit Ejay into the highly secure institution. Each step within the facility was shadowed by vigilant guards, their watchful eyes a constant reminder of the severity of his confinement. As he passed through multiple checkpoints, heavy doors sealed behind him, locking away any remnants of freedom he once possessed. Ejay was ushered into a cell within the confines of the maximum-security prison, the iron bars a stark testament to the formidable nature of his lifelong

Scarlett demanded. James looked at her. "You..." "Did you forget Nash's orders? Help me!" Scarlett extended her hand, seizing the opportunity to boss him around. James could not disobey orders and begrudgingly helped her. Scarlett finally felt satisfied. --- Nash and Felix arrived at the prison. Upon seeing Nash, the guards respectfully greeted him, "Captain York." The prison was located on an island, large and secure. After navigating through a maze of corridors, they reached the underground facility where high-profile prisoners were kept.

The detective gets verified, and the gate opens wide to let us in. We drive into the prison, it’s like three times the size of our penthouse, like a whole community, with so many people, I will be under-reacting if I say two thousand prisoners. Males and females aren’t given privacy in this prison, and things like ‘basic human rights’ are canceled on a big billboard. You are on your own. No law to protect you, no right, and for me, no soldiers, except for Jane, the planted American female soldier, but what can she actually do to protect me in a place this shitty?

Almost happy. I smiled through my tears. This wasn’t over.Not by a long shot.I would find a way.Even if it took every single day of those forty years. The prison bus smelled like sweat, fear, and cheap disinfectant. I sat handcuffed in the back row, staring at the floor as the vehicle rumbled through the massive gates of Blackthorn Correctional Facility — a mixed male and female maximum-security prison known for its brutality and complete lack of rules once you were inside.

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.