Sha Qing

Chapter 111: Walking On A Tightrope (1)

Sha Qing walked into cell 1317, holding the personal items uniformly distributed by the prison. Unlike MCC, the cell door here was made of iron bars, meaning one could not have that much privacy. The only advantage was that inmates were arranged in a single cell therefore there was no need to compete for an upper or lower bunk.

In the cell across the narrow aisle, two White inmates whistled their hearts out through the bars, and one of the guys with a goatee even pulled down his pants and masturbated, while making obscene remarks at him.

Sha Qing ignored him and surveyed his new residence.

A cramped cell, with a single bed covered with sky blue-colored sheets on the right side, and the rest of the space occupied by a stainless-steel washstand, toilet bowl and a fixed long tabletop. There's also a mirror embedded on one side of the wall, and it would be difficult to pick out the pieces if it ever got broken.

Unidentified stains could also be seen everywhere on the wall, like mottled abscesses on the skin of a corpse. Sha Qing came closer to examine one of the most conspicuous dark brown stains and determined that it was a clump of relatively fresh blood stains, perhaps only a few days old. Following this idea, the grayish-yellowish stain next to it was most likely to be someone's brain fluid.

He averted his eyes and began to rummage around in the cell. Almost every prisoner would have a little private collection, and sometimes these things could be forgotten if an inmate leaves in a hurry. Of course, they wouldn't need these items again whether they get released from prison or die.

He was hoping to find something seemingly insignificant but could come in handy during critical moments.

Two pornographic magazines, a few stamps, a low-quality lighter, and even a small half pack of damp cigarettes. But these were useless.

He then found a pen without a cap and quietly stuffed it into his sock.

In the crevice between the foot of the bed and the wall, he pulled out some fragments of human limbs- a small end of a finger, and a tiny piece of bloody scalp with a tangled curly hair. Due to the low winter temperature, it hadn't had time to decompose completely.

If these were the remains of the previous 'tenant', he obviously had a rather painful ride on the shuttle to hell, and the guards responsible for cleaning up the scene were extremely perfunctory, Sha Qing thought, throwing the remnants into the toilet, and flushed them away without a single change in expression.

He then shook the quilt off the bed and got in.

The goatee on the opposite side screamed more loudly, spraying his cum onto the aisle floor. At once, a prison guard came to scold him, dragged him out and forced him to clean the floor-with his own tongue.

The prisoners who saw this scene screamed and laughed as if they were enjoying a comedy show-prison life is dull and boring and people there had to find ways to have some fun.
.
.
.

During the afternoon break when prisoners were let out to get some fresh air, the prison guard, Simon, saw two of Marvo's men slip into cell 1317.

He was well-aware of that fat Black man's vices: he likes to torture newcomers.

It was more than just raping and giving someone a beating- Marvo enjoys the whole process of newcomers' reaction: from tension, anger, resistance, into fear, collapse, begging for mercy, to humiliating and numb acceptance; and after thoroughly playing with them, he finally throws these newcomers into the garbage bin like a broken puppet.

Most of the time, the prison guards who have received some 'benefits' would turn a blind eye, as long as he doesn't play too high-profile, but this time, Simon hesitated, thinking about whether he should come forward to help the new person.