The Prison (Book 1)

Friend or Foe

Friend or Foe

My eyes would not look away from the white instrument of death despite only having peripheral vision of it, the blade glimmering threateningly as it reflected the bright lights overhead. All the while, I pleaded with God that whoever this new character was would pay me no heed. With a racing heart, I tried raising my head so that I could get a better look at the knife-wielding guy. Though I couldn't see his face, I recognized the gaudy, orange uniform and my heart dropped along with all my hopes for salvation.

Another lawless criminal.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, scum?" he growled in that menacing, bone-chilling tone of his. He sounded extremely pissed off as he tossed the knife from one hand to the other skillfully.

How did he manage to get a hold of a knife in prison? Did he get it in a cake from his mother? Or were some guards here dirty and would overlook whatever you were sneaking in, in exchange for favors or cigarette or money or something like that?

One thing I did know for certain was that I had to get the fuck off this damned bed.

Gerard slowly backed away, putting as much distance between him and the furious inmate until he hit the edge of the bed. He looked just about ready to drop dead on the spot. He stammered pathetically "I-I'm n-not the one who s-stole Schneizel's stash, I swear! It was that f-fucking s-snitch, Hansel!" His voice cracked. He visibly swallowed over and over as if trying to clear a lodged lump. Big, fat droplets of sweat rolled down his forehead.

He was lying, that much was clear and only an idiot or a blind person wouldn't be able to see it. The other prisoner made no move aside from tossing the knife repeatedly like a harmless toy. He appeared to be assessing Gerard, but there was no telling for sure because I couldn't see his eyes.

From what I had gathered, Gerard stole something that belonged to that inmate and he was now about to pay the price.

"You're lying. You better rethink your answer before I cut open your throat." The other inmate sneered, and he finally stepped into the light.

My breath hitched in my throat and my eyes popped out of their sockets. He was like a beast –an ugly, hairy, bear-like beast—that had emerged out of his cave to terrorize and conquer with his heavily-muscled physique. He had to be at least seven feet tall. His uniform's sleeves were pulled up to reveal some seriously gruesome scars running down his bulky arms.

How had he even fit through the door?

My only solace was that I was not his focus. Not yet, anyway.

Just as I thought that, his scary dark eyes zeroed in on me. My heart rate skyrocketed. The murderous intent in his eyes he had been directing at Gerard earlier changed to open curiosity as he stared at me. His eyes raked over my body and I was reminded once again of my state of nudity.

"Oh, what do we have here?" he drawled, a smirk forming on his hard face. His anger seemed to rapidly evaporate into the air.

My throat went dry.

"Are you idiot still trading cigarettes to do your dirty inspection on the new pups?"

Gerard didn't utter a word in response. His eyes were glued to the knife by the intruder's side and his face had paled considerably.

I watched the intruder with wary, distrustful eyes. He looked like a hardcore gangster. Or maybe even mafia.

"Schneizel wants his stash back in less than an hour or he'll have you gutted," he said, his tone serious, and then he added, "By me."

Whoever this Schneizel guy was seemed to be the intruder's boss. Just how much more terrifying was the man who bossed the intruder about?

"It wasn't me!" Gerard cried, looking at the brink of literal tears.