𝙍𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 [𝘼𝙐 𝙕𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙘𝙝𝙞 +18]

1: Mind is a Prision

Childe opened his eyes, waking up to the annoying prison alarm, indicating that it was time to wake up. He looked up at the damp ceiling, stretching his arms and yawning. His back ached from sleeping on that hard mattress, the blanket he had barely kept him warm enough. He had slept rather poorly that night, having woken up several times from the cold. But hey, he couldn't complain. He didn't have to share a cell with anyone but maybe an occasional cockroach, so he avoided dealing with all those people who most likely wanted him dead. The bugs weren't that annoying, and they were easy to kill.

Childe got out of bed shuffling his feet, the cell doors opening as the sound of the alarm finally stopped. It was exactly six o'clock in the morning, and like every day his same old routine began. Childe stood at the door of his cell, watching as the other inmates began to file out into the hallway as well, heading for the dining hall, all being watched by the security guards. Voices began to flood the module, prisoners parading through the corridors like zombies.

He was in one of the most dangerous modules due to the crimes he was being accused of, and even though his fellow inmates knew about him being a "serial killer", they didn't seem to fear him. Or well, that would be what most people might think upon seeing him. Childe looked quite a bit weaker than he was, and newcomers always received a warm welcome when trying to beat him up, thinking it would be simple to beat him. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had lost in a fight there... Well, maybe on the fingers of both hands, but nothing compared to the number of his victories. Still, he always made it a point to pick on people he knew had the upper hand.

Childe followed the inmates, yawning.

It had been the same routine for the past four years, with some variations during the week due to the distribution of chores, but the essence was the same. Waking up, having breakfast, doing chores, going to the yard where someone would probably get them both in a fight, ending in the punishment room... And finally back to his cell. And so he spent four years. No visits from anyone, no phone calls. Nothing.

He had earned several nicknames among the inmates, the rumors had spread like wildfire, and he was sure some of the guards would have believed it. Childe didn't mind being called Tartaglia, although he had no idea where the name had come from. Sometimes he had been referred to directly as a monster, but other nicknames enhanced not his exploits but his failures. And to tell the truth, it didn't bother him either. He was the youngest in the module, having entered at eighteen and now being twenty-two. He had been a lost puppy during his first week in jail, spending the first three nights crying and the rest of the days scared. Yes, he had committed several crimes, but they were all minor, impossible to compare to someone who had killed someone in cold blood. Childe was not that kind of person at heart, but if he wanted to survive he had to believe all those titles that praised him. Did they call him a monster? Then he would act like one.

Childe entered the canteen, a space just as monotonous as the rest of the jail. He picked up one of the trays that had been placed on the bar, sliding the surface across the metal.

The prisoners were in charge of the maintenance of the prison, also including things like the laundry and the kitchen. Childe smiled with amusement when he saw Roald behind the bar, serving the concoction that they called food there. The man had been convicted of murdering his boss but was caught trying to run away. Childe looked at Ronald's nose, which was covered with gauze, and his lip with a patch. Childe had understood that in his fight last week he had broken Ronald's nose and that the blonde had had to be taken to the hospital for surgery. Childe hadn't seen him until that moment, and he wasn't going to miss an opportunity like this to make fun of him.

"You look good," Childe commented with a sly smile on his lips, holding the tray in front of him. Roald became aware of his presence, finishing serving another inmate, turning to look at him hatefully. "Has it sprained you a lot?" He laughed, pointing to his nose.