The Prisoners Novels & Stories

Dealing with maniacs required more than just wit, and their true headquarters was far removed from the gambling tables, buried deep where sunlight couldn't reach. Leonard entered the casino, passing gamblers reveling in their games and winnings. He observed them briefly before proceeding to a restricted door that led to a concealed underground passageway. At the end of the corridor lay La Ravenl's actual base—a grim, dimly lit space reeking of blood and dampness, resembling an execution chamber more than a negotiation room.

"Are you sure you don't have any more information you'd like to share, Mr. Brown? This is your last chance. Otherwise, you'll have to face the consequences of what you did. You could stay in prison for the rest of your life." "So life imprisonment is the worst the Diamond Pack do to its criminals." Jack whispered by her side. "Mr. Brown, do you know where Arden and his allies are?" the judge asked, as a last attempt to get something useful out of him. "I wouldn't say even if I did. The man is a beast. You wouldn't go after him, even if your life depended on it." The troublemakers started to scream and push people forward, so they could get closer to the stage.

Larry froze: "I don't want it, and I can't take it, it's against the rules." "Don't you want to join the team?" Alex tilted her head and looked at Larry. "How can we withhold all these stuff, what about the prisoners?" Larry argued: "This is a big injustice in this prison, it is to be suspended and investigated." "You don't have a way out now." "Don’t I?" Larry said. "Really? Look, what is this?" Alex handed a laptop to Larry. When he opened it, there was a video of a man and woman entwined, both of them without clothes on.

They might not get another chance like this anytime soon. So Jules huddled in the cupboard near the basement, waiting for Liam to do his part. He didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough, there were Liam’s panicked shouts and then the sounds of people in heavy boots running past the cupboard. Then everything went quiet. His heart pounding, Jules got out of the cupboard and quickly headed to the basement. He had no idea how much time he had: probably ten minutes, if he was lucky. It should be enough. It had to be. Hopefully the guards wouldn’t think to check on their prisoner—they rarely seemed to—so Jules hoped they wouldn’t find out that the Xeus was missing until the morning. And hopefully no

the officer spits, his voice disdainful. I push myself up from the cot, my legs pulsating from the long hours of inactivity. My movement hesitant as I follow the officer through the maze of prison corridors. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, desperation, and despair. Every step I take is a reminder of my captivity, a descent into the murky depths of this living nightmare. We arrive at the prison dining hall, a cavernous chamber filled with a grating of voices, clinking trays, and the acrid odor of food. A long, grimy counter stretches across one side of the hall, where a group of prisoners, clad in identical drab uniforms, lined up to receive their meager rations. The inmates’ faces

"Quickly." They open cells one by one, freeing prisoners who can barely stand. Some have been here so long they don't believe rescue is real. Others weep with relief. "Can you walk?" Sera asks a young wolf—maybe nineteen, covered in scars. "I think so. Who are you?" "Friends. We're getting you out." They're loading prisoners onto makeshift stretchers when alarms blare. "So much for quiet," Valentina mutters. Order guards flood the corridors. These aren't regular security—they're elite units trained specifically for supernatural combat.

Ronan stood knee-deep in the mud, a massive, scarred sentinel, holding a heavy wooden club loosely in one hand. The prisoners—Thorne’s survivors—numbered perhaps a dozen. They were a ragged group, nursing gashes and broken limbs. In wolf form, they would have been licking their wounds, but most had shifted back to human skin, shivering in the cold damp of the ravine. They looked broken. Defeated. Or most of them did. As Jax and I descended the slope, sliding slightly in the loose shale, heads turned. A ripple of movement went through the prisoners. Submission. They lowered their eyes, hunching their shoulders.