The Prison (Book 1)

Eyes

For the rest of the day, I lay upon my bunk staring at nothing in particular. I desperately craved sleep, but it eluded me, refusing to come to my aid when I needed it most. After what happened a few hours ago, I doubted I'd ever sleep again. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the guard's eyes turn glassy and lifeless and I just couldn't bear it.

A janitor mopped the cell's floor with a mop that was even dirtier than the floor, glaring daggers at me. My uniform had been discarded in the laundry after some of the vomit got on it.

I now understood why this place was labeled "The Prison from Hell". In a place meant for retribution and reform, rape, murder, and bribery ran rampant.

Less than twenty-four inside and I'd already witnessed a murder. The bloodcurdling, macabre scene kept playing in my head like a video I could neither pause nor stop, torturing and tormenting me endlessly.

What kind of man possessed the heartlessness and the cruelty required to accomplish the atrocious deed without a glimmer of hesitation or remorse in his eyes?

A cold-blooded murderer, that's who.

King Satan.

I may have hated that stupid guard, but I never wished death upon him even when he'd wished it upon me. The memory of his corpse being dragged out of the cell by his fellow guards who were alarmingly silent chilled me to the bone. They hadn't said a word to me, not even to ask what happened. They had watched it all through the camera, it seemed.

I barely registered in my mind the janitor leaving the cell and the door sliding shut behind him.

"Are you just going to sulk here for the rest of your sentence?"

A cold, icy finger skittered over my spine, leaving a chilly trail behind. My breathing ceased. I was paralyzed. To my dismay, my hands began trembling, so before they gave me away, I fisted them. Unfortunately, it did nothing to quill the shaking.

"I'm taking that as a yes."

Not only was he strong, he was also shockingly light on his feet. Again, he'd snuck into the cell without me noticing.

I finally summoned the courage to look at him. When I did, I blinked, and then I rubbed vigorously at my eyes.

It was the King alright. Except he now had black hair.

It had been at least half a day, enough time for him to dye his hair, but something was off and I could feel it deep down. Call it instinct, but I suspected something else about the king had changed beside the color of his hair. He still possessed that same handsome, overbearingly male features with that same straight nose, slightly pouty lips, arched thick eyebrows and chiseled features, and muscled, well-toned body. Yet something was crucially different and I couldn't put my finger on it.

His eyes!

The difference lay in his eyes! They were no longer a startling black color nor an electric blue, but a stormy grey. At first, I assumed his eyes shifted color, a trait many people possessed.

No, that's not it. There's something else.

His voice was also different. Sure, it sounded almost like King Satan's, but it was different when you paid close attention.

"You're quite observant, aren't you? Not a lot of people notice the difference between me and my brother, aside from the hair, of course. Everyone's first thought is that Schneizel dyed his hair black on a whim or something. But you noticed. I can see it on your face," he said, sounding impressed.

"What do you mean?" I had a pretty good idea forming in my head of what exactly was going on, but I wanted to hear it from him.

My brother, he'd said.

One corner of his mouth tilted up into a languorous, knowing smirk and his eyes danced with amusement. "I think you've already guessed it." To my dismay, his voice turned husky and I helplessly watched as his eyes devoured me from head to toe, as if I were the main dish in a grand buffet, taking in my scarcely-clad body inch after inch.

My hand ached to grab the blanket and drape it across my bare chest just to hide myself from his lewd gaze, but I quelled the urge. If I did, he'd know that he was affecting me.

Once he'd thoroughly examined me from head to toe, he drawled, "My, my, I see Schneizel has found himself quite the specimen. Beauty and brains! I'm jealous."

The King had an identical twin brother!

My body reacted on its own. I jumped off the bunk and leapt to the desk. I seized one the heavier books with both hands till my knuckles colored white, ready to use as a weapon if he so much as breathed wrong.

As I watched the King's twin with a hawk's eye, I once again noted the uncanny resemblance between them except for his hair color and his soft blue eyes. I briefly wondered what it would feel like to share my face with another human being.

He chuckled softly, a husky sound. "Oh, you're too cute for your own good."

I raised the book over my head, about to fling it at him when he yelled, "Wait!" He quickly lifted his hands in surrender. Quickly amending, he cleared his throat and said, "I mean you no harm. You needn't be afraid of me."

My eyes held his and I the sincerity in his eyes.

"Forgive me for not believing you, but I think I'm going to hold on to this book," I told him cautiously, but I found myself relaxing and unconsciously lowering my guard. "Why are you here?" I demanded.

"I'm here to greet you. My name is Schneider."

Schneizel and Schneider. I'd never heard the exotic names before.

I dropped the book to the ground and went to sit on the bunk. In two strides, he crossed the distance to come sit next to me.

I inched away from him, afraid that I'd make a mistake by lowering my guard.

"I'm—"

"Aiden, I know."

"How do you know?" I asked with furrowed brows.

"Everyone knows! You're the talk of the whole prison for beating that entitled prick of a guard. I forget his name." Schneider exclaimed with a wide grin. "More importantly, you've gone down in history. You're the first person to ever share a prison cell with Schneizel. I take it you know his title?" At my slow nod, he went on, "Kings don't exactly share, especially our King. That's what ranks as top news here, just so you know. The bastard won't even let me stay five minutes in his cell, let alone sleep in it and I'm his twin! I mean we share chromosomes for crying out loud. The fact you've spent over a day here seemingly unharmed has the place riled up and gossiping like bored housewives."

There was nothing comforting about what he just told me.

Worried, I exclaimed, "Should I be happy?"