Second Chance

Chapter 29

"Who exactly are the Descouche brothers?" I asked DK quietly, going back into the cell and sitting on the bed.

"You remember how I mentioned Nick and Shawn earlier?" He reminded, sitting down beside me.

"Yeah." I answered, glancing over at Zeke, who was still standing at the door as if he were guarding us.

"Well that's them. They're basically prison royalty, and I bet they'd be interested in you." I felt uneasy as he was telling me this. I did not want anything to do with these guys. I wanted to stay invisible, but apparently that was impossible in a place like this.

"What did they do to get sent here?" I asked nervously.

DK glanced at the cell door, then back at me. "I think you should ask them yourself."

"No, come on man. Please, I need to know what I'm up against." I pleaded.

He hesitated, then finally said. "It's mainly rumours, and I don't even know the whole story. Basically, a year ago, Nick and Shawn committed homicide on their family. Mother, father, sister, and even the dog. All dead. After that, they went on a killing spree throughout their town. They shot up banks, schools, apartments, you name it. All together, in the course of two weeks, a quarter of the town's population was dead, until they were finally caught. During all this they also robbed a lot of people and houses, and raped a decent amount of teenage girls. The craziest thing about them is that they were only fifteen when they did all of this. They are bad news, Fish. Even I'm a little intimidated by them."

I stared at him for a few seconds, taking in everything he just told me. "Why did they do it?" I asked faintly.

DK shook his head. "I don't know, man. They must have a screw loose, or something."

"I think the screw is completely out of the hole at this point." I observed.

DK laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate."

A moment later, I heard footsteps coming towards us, and my heart started to speed up. I really didn't want to meet these guys. Like, really really really didn't want to meet them. I felt like they would break my neck the moment I said the wrong thing to them. Finally, after several tense seconds, two guys came into view and entered the cell. Something told me these were definitely the Descouche brothers.

The best way to describe them was that feeling you get when you just broke something really expensive in your rich Aunt's house. That feeling of dread and terror you feel in the bottom of your stomach, like a forbidding pit of death opening up to swallow you whole. That's what I felt when I looked into their cold, unfriendly eyes.

I didn't know which one was which, but they did look quite similar. They had tanned skin with black hair that covered their foreheads and parts of their eyes. One had a scar that started from his collarbone and disappeared under his shirt, while the other seemed to be unscathed, besides an eyebrow slit that looked like it was supposed to be there. I thought the most intimidating thing about them was how tall and solidly built they were. They were both probably 6'5, and looked like they could be athletes of some sort. Instead, here they were, towering over me in a menacing way.

"You're new." One of them stated in a deep rumbling voice.

"Yeah, I am." I answered, even though it wasn't really a question.

"What's your name?" The other demanded.

"Justin Blok." I tried to keep the nerves out of my voice, but I wasn't sure how successful I was.

"We heard you're in here for murder, among other things." The first one added.

"Yeah, I killed my brother." I muttered, trying to keep eye contact, which was really hard because of how intently they were staring at me.

"And?" The other prodded.

"I also stole a car and a truck, sold drugs, shot off fireworks without a permit, drank underage and drove without a license, and I had a fake ID with me." I listed off once again.

They frowned thoughtfully at me, both crossing their arms at the same time, which was kind of funny, but it was definitely not the time to start laughing hysterically like a total psycho, even if it might get them off my back for half a second.

"How many years do you have?" The one with the scar finally asked.

"Forty." I answered, wanting to ask them the same question, but I had a feeling that I was not in the position to be asking questions right now.

They both gave me a slight smirk in unison, then the one with the slit eyebrow asked. "How long are you here for?"

"Two months, then I'm getting transferred to the Darkwood Penitentiary, since I'm seventeen now." I informed them.

"Well, we don't have much time at all then, do we?" The scarred one asked rhetorically.

"What do you mean?" I asked nervously.

"Initiation." The slit eyebrow one explained. "You're going to fight someone. If you win, you're in. If not....well, let's just say we're not afraid to test your limits."