𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 ✔️

♡ Chapter 1 ♡

Who decides what's good, and what's bad?

Some say orange juice is good. Others say apple. Some say orange juice is horrible, or that even both suck.

Some say murder is never okay. Others say it is, under certain circumstances. 

It would appear that every single person on Earth creates their own categories of good and bad. We separate the two, depending on our upbringing and experiences. 

The harsh lights shine down on me as I walk down the hallway. Grey flooring, and grey walls.

Here, the yellow caution tape at the start of the doors is where we separate good from bad. I stare down at the tape before opening the heavy metal door, entering with a plate of food in hand.

The prisoner lifts his head up. And I knew exactly what was about to happen. 

The same thing that happens every day. 

He lunges forward, anger coating his face, one singular vein sticking out of his neck. The chains around his wrists and ankles prevent him from reaching me. 

I stop walking, staring at him calmly while I watch him continue to reach me. 

"Let me out you fucking bitch!" he screams, his voice echoing against the walls. "I'm gonna fucking kill you once I'm out of here!"

His words don't affect me. I just continue standing there with a forced smile.

I set the plate down on the ground, the sound of ceramic moving against the floor as it slides into his reach. 

"Be careful with the chicken. It's hot," I say with the forced smile before turning around.

He continues screaming. Grunting. Trying to get out of the chains as I exit the room and shut the door.

I've been working here for two years. At first, the things these people would say used to affect me. Make me shake. Sometimes even cry.

But I quickly grew thick skin. 

I'm not too sure of the world that goes on around me. I know that my father is the mafia don, and I know that every person he has brought here is an enemy of his he was finally able to capture.

He tortures them. Makes them bleed. Cuts pieces of their fingers off, if it comes to it. 

Sometimes, he does it to get answers. Other times, for revenge. Nearly every single person that enters here never leaves, I can still manage to hear the gunshots through the thick walls.

But I don't ask any questions. 

All I do, is deliver them food three times a day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

I move on to the next cell. And it's the same as the last. 

The woman jumps forward, in an attempt to grab me. But I stay behind a white line in the room, that tells me people can't reach me here. 

"You fucking cunt! Got me locked up like an animal!" she screams as I set the plate down. 

I ignore her, and push the plate past the line. 

"Just you wait and see what it's like to be locked up like this!" she continues to scream, the chains jumping against the bolts as she tries to get free. "Just you fucking wait!"

I shut the door. 

Normally, it would pain me to see people held here against their will. But it doesn't, since my father has assured me these are all criminals, that are horrible people.