Van Terra III: Blackout [PREVIEW ONLY, NOW PUBLISHED]

Chapter Three ~ Rock Paper Bomb

The atmosphere in the prison cafeteria was the same as ever the day after Jasper burned herself. Faint scratching of plastic utensils on trays, chatter amongst the prisoners that was rarely polite, occasional barrages of insults or threats of violence. The usual.

More often than not, Jasper's meals were served to her in her cell. But on the days she was escorted all the way to this side of the prison to work, she was left to eat here in the cafeteria afterward. Her ankles were cuffed to the table, of course, and there was nothing remotely sharp or dangerous she could use to attack anyone.

But there wasn't much to stop others from hurting her. Which happened to be what she really needed.

As Jasper shoved a bite of some sort of unseasoned mashed root into her mouth, a fellow prisoner walked by: a yellow-skinned, webbed-fingered, amphibious guy by the name of Mog whom Jasper had developed a particular dislike for. And given her talent at being annoying, it hadn't been hard to make him feel the same way about her. Their last altercation had ended with several threats of violence on his part.

A follow-through on those threats was exactly what Jasper needed right now. Another self-inflicted injury, no matter how accidental she claimed it to be, would be suspicious. She couldn't risk those suspicions compromising her plan.

"Hey, Mog!" Jasper exclaimed through her mouthful of mashed root.

Mog stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, annoyance already simmering in his expression. "I warned you to keep out of my sight, Van Terra."

Jasper swallowed and grinned at him. "Aw, you can act like you hate me all you want, but I know you like me deep down. Come on, why don't you join me for dinner?"

"I'd rather watch you choke."

"I know why you're so mean, Mog. You do like me—and everyone else you threaten to murder—but you don't know how to make friends." With a shrug, Jasper shoved another bite in her mouth.

Mog gestured to a couple of the guys who'd been walking with him. "I've got plenty of friends."

Jasper laughed through her food. "No, those are people you find valuable, so you've intimidated them into hanging out with you. But you know you can't intimidate people like me. So, you threaten to kill me instead." She swallowed, then wagged her fork at him. "You know that in a fair fight, I'd have you on the ground in a heartbeat."

"You're nothing compared to me."

"I don't believe you."

Before the Shark Tank, Mog had been a powerful drug lord. And he still had connections that could get him those drugs smuggled in, giving him something he could bribe other prisoners and guards alike with. And he wasn't the kind of person to let someone like Jasper get away with insinuating that she was stronger than him.

So, just as Jasper expected, Mog—whom the guards tended to look the other way around, thanks to those bribes—was able to produce a shard of sharp glass from his pocket. God knew where he got it from, or what kind of infections it might give Jasper if her upcoming wound went untreated, but she hadn't come up with any better ideas.

Mog moved to swing. Jasper couldn't take any chances. He'd likely get one hit in before guards were forced to intervene, and it had to land where she needed it to. She lifted her right arm into the path of the glass. She didn't feign fear, or show pain, or give any indication that she intended to dodge the shard at all. She simply stared Mog dead in the eye as his weapon sank into her skin. Blood welled. Dripped onto the table. The floor.

"What the hell—?"

Mog's confusion was short-lived. Guards grabbed his arms, grabbed Jasper, and the shard of glass clattered to the tile below. Despite the fact that Mog had physically incited things, Jasper knew exactly what would happen next.