The Prisoner: A Novel Novels & Stories

The prisoners’ voices sound uptight but yet stifled from the space that conceals the convicts. The sage's cell is not what she is used to. The steel foundation is covered in bronze rust but on top of that rust is old, dried-out blood from the earlier visit to the cell. Align the right side of the cage is an old worn and torn brown blanket with a sandbag-like pillow on the helm where the blanket resides. The right-hand corner of the space has one bucket for lavatory uses. Salavanta sits in the middle of the foundation. She wears nothing but a brown, washed-out jumpsuit that covers her entire body. Her knees are pressed up to her chest and her arms are wrapped around her bottom limbs which ke

Yet, the prison has seen advancements with thicker iron bars, reinforced doors, and locking mechanisms. The ceilings arch high, supported by columns. They are cavernous, devoid of any sanctity. As we descend further, the guard occasionally glances back at me. Finally, we reach a massive iron door, rusted with age yet formidable in its design. The guard pulls out a large key from his belt and inserts it into the lock. With a creaking groan, the door swings open, revealing the cell where Collins is being held. The room is sparse, its only furnishings are a narrow cot and single window, barred and set high on the wall—allowing a sliver of gray light.

That’s what she was talking about. I enter his small cell, a thin frail boy covered in chains. He doesn’t look at me, I’m not even sure he’s conscious. I can’t remember his name, Christian? I look wildly around thinking. Dad was obviously behind this, how do I help them? What the hell do I do? Think, Wade, Think! Oh goddess I don’t know. I hear movement behind me. Change of the guard time. I look to see… Trey. I wait until Conner’s heavy footsteps disappear before I round on my friend, “Trey! You knew!” He obviously hadn’t seen me and his eyes flash in panic.

" My gaze moved to the raffle box in front of Ryan Mercer, and my blood seemed to chill inch by inch. At tonight's gala, every employee had one chance to draw a prize. But the raffle box in front of Ryan had clearly been made for him alone. Every prize inside it was mine. My salary. My bonus. My position. Even my girlfriend. And I had known nothing about it. Until this very moment, everything I had was being handed away through his little raffle. "Vanessa, I don't care what kind of prizes you want to give him. But why are all the prizes things that belong to me?" Vanessa froze for half a second. Then she straightened, even more self-righteous than before. "I'm the CEO of this company. I can

“I haven't seen anyone here in such a long time. Stay. Old Ozakh has a lot to tell you. And I stayed because I was alone too. The prisoner turned out to be a delonh, his hands were chained to the wall, but, despite this, the cell door was locked with three reliable locks. He did not tell me what he was guilty of, he did not tell me why he was doomed to such an existence. He could not die, the Delonchi had already crossed the line of their lives long ago, but left without food, he weakened so much that he could no longer move and could only speak with difficulty. He talked non-stop when I came to him. He was waiting for me, waiting all the time.

Seeing some guards standing as they keep their eyes on the prisoners, I turn left and head down the hall. I was going to pay a visit to one of the guards we could capture alive. He was one man on the second compound. Nodding to one guard, he unlocks the door. A small blaring sound. The lights flicker on. With a sigh, I put my phone on the metal desk and walk over to the prisoner. They tied him against the wall, just like a dog. Chains on his arms and legs made him look uncomfortable. Grabbing a stool, I sit in front of him.

The second cell, the third, and all the way up to the sixth cell he was not happy. Prince Aldridge felt frustrated but held his frustration and composed himself. They reached the seventh cell where a prisoner was sitting on the floor in the middle of the cell with his legs crossed. His arms were bound behind his back and had an iron collar around his neck with five chains chained to it which were attached to the wall.

Her fear of seeing Amelia getting hurt because of her making Chateau fought against her eager to escape, and in the end, she decided to walked back towards the Noiree—with her bare feet and bruised. After a long steps, she back to the door; where Leonard stayed till the dark—completing his jobs. Chateau walked in and Leonard just still sat on his chair, his posture was straight; his cold eyes stared at Chateau, sharp and killing her in silence. For a moment, Chateau a little wonder to see how calm Leonard was after his prisoner escaped; he looked like he didn't bother at all if Chateau ran away or came back to him like this. Leonard glancing at Chateau's feet; bare and bruised. Leonard rose

I was a prisoner, entirely in his power, and it was a poisonous venom. I slid down the frozen beam, metal rubbing against my wrists. My chest hurt, a physical manifestation of the crushing loss. I, Vincent Moreau, the man who lived by taking on the world and fighting his way to the top, outwitting Damian Blackwood, was now nothing more than a caged animal. Each step, each calculated risk, each deception I had put into motion, now came flooding back, forcefully driven by the bitter harshness of being a prisoner.

Surrounded by nothing and no one, it was the perfect place to keep someone who didn't want to be there. An ambush could be seen coming for miles. The prisoner had nowhere to run and hide. Plus they had an underground cellar filled with food and water, in case they were caged in like animals. It was an ingenious build. But now it was the bane of my existence. "Please go and fetch Rafael for me. We have a lot to figure out." I asked the new man. He nodded. Scampered off of the ground before I could ask him again.