Behind the Wrong Bars

Behind the Wrong Bars Chapter 3

Chapter Three -- Is it not an Angel's job to heal and protect the weak and the sick?

The first week of my imprisonment passed faster than I had thought it would. Just like sand falling in an hour glass, the days trickled by in a continuous pattern. So did the opportunities for me to quench my eternally insatiable thirst for answers.

As the days had passed, more questions went unanswered. I spent most of my waking hours outside of the cell in the company of my only actual friends in the prison: Killian and Sebastian. When they were unavailable, I stuck with Jason. Through the passage of the week, I had learned nothing more about my mysterious cell mate. He had made many more deductions about me, though. Jason Demier literally tore through any lies I tried to feed him - which was surprising, given that I was very accomplished at masking any lies I told.

Jason had not been wrong in proclaiming himself a genius. Which made me even more confused as to why that man was in here.

If he was so smart, how did he get caught after whatever he had done?

Had the spider really caught the elusive fly? Or had the fly ensnared the spider in a web of its own?

Ever growing riddles surrounded me. That, and ever growing approaches from inmates. I mean seriously, how desperate did they think I was?The entire week through, I had been propositioned by every kind of man one could find in jail. Except for my three allies....my two friends and cell mate. Killian and Sebastian seemed to have a decent amount of respect for me. They would not try anything with me. As for Jason - I was not very sure. He certainly held no real respect for me, nor did he really seem to care, which confused me further. What were his ulterior motives?

I fiddled with my fingers as I stared at the white ceiling of my cell. The cell doors were still open, given that it was around midday and the inmates were allowed to wander around now. Not unsupervised, just without orders.

For me this meant little. Sebastian spent most of his free time in the library, Killian hung out with him. Jason apparently worked as an assistant in the infirmary. That, among very few other things, was all I knew about the blond man that I shared a cell with.

I listlessly drummed my fingers against my stomach. Was this how my life was to play out? 19 years, locked up in a large cage like a bird? I was bored out of my mind. As much as I loved reading, the prison library was severely lacking in all categories. It had a modest collection at best, but everything that was available for reading consisted mostly of law and prison rights to name a few.

I felt my eye lids drooping and in a moment of weakness, I succumbed to the darkness.

xxxxxx

A quiet house...bathed in dark.

No lights, no movement, no sound. Silence. A still black form rests on the couch, slowly breathing in...and out...

The television is off, the black screen reflecting the impenetrable darkness of the room. Silence.

One rushed set of footsteps...hurrying down the hallway. Sound...

The figure on the couch remains asleep, slowly breathing in...and out...

A shadow looms over the body, a dark shadow of dark intent. A knife, already coated in crimson, rises. The a light reflects off the cold blade, before darkness once again overcomes it. Drip...drop...the soft patter of liquid hitting the floor and other surfaces. Drip...drop...clink...the blade makes a noise as it touches down on the glass coffee table.

A gloved hand, shrouded in shadow, reaches out for the figure on the couch. Drip...drop...liquid life spatters on the sleeping face. Bleary eyes flicker open.