King of the Cell (DNF)

Chapter 1: Guilty

King of the Cell.

I haven't got the Wattpad @ for the person who designed the cover, but I will put it up as soon as I get the chance.

This chapter is dedicated to THIS_IS_A_SIN who I know is a major fan of my stories (especially Antiheroes and Shit in Love and Crime)
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George POV.

It wasn’t my fault…

“George Davidson,” a member of the jury, spoke in a large booming voice, and I tried not to cry as he spoke while staring down at me. “On the accusation of the murder of Mr Wilbur Soot, the trial finds you…”

“…Guilty on all charges.”

But I’m innocent.

Tears began flowing freely from my eyes as I looked over to my lawyer, who stood up and walked over to me before patting my shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry,” he said, before stepping back as a pair of police officers walked over to handcuff me. I didn’t try to resist, there wasn’t any point. From this day on I was branded as a murderer, even though I wasn’t.

As I was pulled out of the room I dared to look over to where the family of my best friend sat, or at least where they had been sitting. Philza, a therapist, and Kristan, an elementary school teacher, who had been more like parents to me than my own parents, having come to school shows, science fairs, birthdays, and graduations, more than my own biological parents.

Tommy, Wilbur’s younger brother, was sitting between the pair. He had also been crying, he tried to be strong but he couldn’t help but let a few tears slip through. It was understandable of course. He knew me as though I was a second brother, Wilbur and I were practically joined at the hip for most of our teenage years, and before that even.

We’d obviously seen each other less as we got older of course. He dropped out early to pursue a job in music, planning on writing songs to share with the world. I meanwhile went to college, and I went to University, and I had learned to code, planning on having something to do with that later on in life.

Once a month the two of us would meet up to hang out, go see a movie, or to an amusement park, or just go out to dinner. Three months ago now my trial had started, just before that he and I went to a bar. We thought it would be funny to get drunk and attempt some karaoke or something. I wanted to head home early but he stayed. That was the last time I saw him alive.

Actually that was the last time anyone saw him alive. The next morning he had been found dead in an alleyway. I was arrested at my work that same day, since his family, coworkers, and the bartender all knew that he and I had been together that night.

I tensed up my fists as I was pulled into a van, barely having the time to read the words on the side which read the name of my new home. ‘Pandora's box’ was a prison that was nowhere near L'manburg, the place where I’d lived since I moved here at age ten and met Wilbur. Still though, even the name sent shivers down people's spines.

About one hundred years ago it was an insane asylum for convicted felons who plead insanity, and to cure said ‘insanity’ were tests which surely didn’t help. Then during the second world war weapons were designed there. They tested the weapons on people who they figured didn’t deserve to live in this country (homosexuals, criminals, immigrants etc).

It was a truly disgusting place, most likely haunted from all the death that ended up happening there. And it was an hour long drive, meaning that I had plenty of time to think about what might happen. I mean, prison has never been a place that anyone was fond of, even after just watching movies, but this would be a million times worse than any of them.

The hour felt a lot longer though, and it most definitely was as the officers stopped several times to get fuel, or take a piss, or get something to eat, without offering me so much as a sip of water once. When the van slowed for a fourth time I figured one of the officers needed another bathroom break, but it wasn’t that at all, since the back doors of the van were thrown open.

“George Davidson, stand up now,” one of the officers barked as another undid the cuffs which had locked me to the bench I’d been sitting on, and I immediately did as I was told. The man, who looked like an army sergeant, smirked. “An obedient one, ay?” He asked with a grunt, “been a while since I had one of those.”

I tried to keep from shaking as he examined me for a moment before cuffing my hands together and leading me inside. I followed without struggle, but couldn't resist lifting my gaze to the front of the prison, which was tall enough to send the whole car park into shadow.

There were four stories, made of solid, cold looking, stone bricks. All the windows which were there were barred, but I could see lights on inside most of the windows. The place looked cold and uninviting and I unwillingly shivered. My eyes lowered as I was directed away from the large main building and towards a smaller one which looked a lot more modern.

I was brought to a desk and a woman with frizzy red hair was sitting at a computer typing away, but she noticed us pretty soon and stood up. “You must be the new inmate we got a call about several hours ago. We will get you some clothes. What size are you?” I answered and she nodded before walking into the backroom.

The sergeant man uncuffed my hands and a moment later the woman returned with some folded up clean clothes. A white shirt, some black shorts, and an orange jumpsuit to go overtop. I muttered a small thank you before the other man walked me over to a changing room, which only separated me from them with a thin, nearly see-through, curtain.

Before I could get changed though the sergeant stepped in with me and told me to take off my clothes, where he performed an extremely embarrassing search in every place imaginable to make sure that I could not smuggle anything into the prison. When he finished he took my clothes and didn't seem to care about my privacy as he pulled the curtain open the whole way as he stepped out.

Quickly I changed into the clothes before stepping back out, and the jumpsuit was a bit loose, so I was given one that was a size smaller. After I had changed, I was given another set of clothes, along with two pairs of boxers, and one pair of shoes. “You will get two pairs of clothes to alternate, but you can buy some more at the prison commissary.”

I watched warily as the sergeant looked over any of the belongings that had been in my pocket before handing it to the woman to put away. Once that was also done the frizzy haired woman told me they were going to be put away and I’d get them ‘when I got out’. After that I was directed to get mugshots before returning to the desk a third time and being handed a ‘care package’.

There was another pair of the clothes that I had tried on, some toothpaste and a toothbrush, a towel, and some soap. I piled it all up into my arms before being led out of the building by the sergeant again and he directed me outside, before into the main building.

After entering through two sets of metal doors we were in the main prison and there were several people in orange jumpsuits. I lowered my head to hope they didn’t notice me but unsurprisingly that didn’t work, with the sergeant towering over me everyone looked in his direction before towards me, and that was when the wolf whistles started coming in.

I had always looked more feminine than most men, especially these drugged up, jacked, assholes, and based on what I learned about in movies this wasn’t going to be doing me any favours.

Thankfully none of them dared to come near me with the sergeant standing beside me, and I shuffled slightly closer to him as he brought me to a row of cells on the second story in a cellblock, called Cell Block A. As I looked around at the other inmates I couldn’t help but worry about who my cellmate might be.

When I stepped into the cell I noticed someone in an orange jumpsuit sitting on the bottom bunk and reading a book, but the sergeant cleared his throat to catch the inmates attention. “Hey Techno, we got your new roommate.”
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1522 words.