Prison Bound

Mikhael

Current Day...

Somewhere near the Black Sea.

POV : Mikhael

I was back in my cell washing the fresh blood off my hands while trying to get the dead mans face out of my memory. I flexed my hands under the chilled water and watched it turn my scarred hands a faint blueish hue. It wasn't working, I could still feel the older man's neck snapping within my hands. The air was chilled within the walls of the dark night and out my barred window four stories down. I could see the lights that came from the towers that held the blood thirsty jackals that guarded us by day, to only rule, judge and make a profit off the prisoners deaths by night. No survival. It was a battle to the death, no mercy, an event to keep us on our toes and create entertainment while bringing in major off the books profit for the guards and criminals around. Criminals and people of prestige came from all around the world just to gamble and stake a claim to these notorious fights. The ones that were weak gave up their lives for the game, while the survivors were known as the Gladiators. It was an invite only, to receive one of the golden tickets to the Black death game events, was considered a sign of respect and welcome to their world of intrigue within the wall of the Dark Eagle prison. Tonight was no different, except the man's life I had taken, had been a friend. One was never safe in here, that's what the older man had said, when he had picked my 16 old year ass off the snow covered ground. I had been beaten and left in the box for three days, before the guards decided to throw me in the square with the rest of the population of prisoners. I woke up four days later with most of my ribs broken and a deep gash that had been roughly stitched that ran from my brow and deep into my hairline. Which is on of the reasons I kept my head shaved. Scorp had told me to show my warriors scars. He said it would make hell take a second look before tangling with me. And he turned out to be right, he was a ruthless person, not a gentle bone in his body. But that didn't stop him from taking me on. I didn't realize until later why he called himself Scorp. It had been a day hot as hell, when one of the Black Death fights was announced over the mic, during one of our training routines. The guards had called Scorpion and another inmate over the mic announcing the bloodbath to happen, at two past midnight. I'll never forget that fight... He had walked tall and proud with his lean stocky 5'10 frame unafraid against his 6'2 opponent. He became a legend that day.... One swipe of his left arm the blade slid across the tall mans jaw next to his temple, then the Scorpion continued and broke his competitors knee cap and put the blade swiftly through the other man's neck. The speed off the kill had surprised the crowd into silence and invoking fear in some. And with a gracefulness only few posses, he smiled. And with that smile, the crowd received him wholeheartedly and cheered him for his victory. And with that, a legend was born... "I'm sorry old friend." I sigh looking up at the stars.   "He understood." Came a deep voice from the cement opening of my cell. I turn around in habit of always guarding my back, but with little worry of a threat coming from the familiar voice. The dark shadow is a friend and understands the need to always be on edge. "Here.." He says while walking into my cell and setting down a bottle of prized vodka. In a prison everything is contraband and when something other than trouble is placed on your table, its a rare and pleasant gift. "It shouldn't have happened, he shouldn't of had to die tonight." I say taking a shot from the bottle. "Someone must have suspected what we were doing..." I stop and meet Gabe's eyes in the dark. "Unless someone talked." He replies. I nod and walk back to the window, I can see the guards escorting the guests back to the waterfront. To go where I don't know, I had only just found out a few years ago that it was the Black Sea I looked out at every night. We were in a location, where no one went and a person or prison didn't exist. To the outside world we were dead or nonexistent, a myth that could disappear... "Only a few people know about the plan." I state while running the men through my mind. "There's only one I could think of." Gabe replies taking a second shot from the bottle. "You think the boy talked?" Gabe sits back in the steel chair and is silent. I know he's weighing his answer, the conclusion of the 19 year old boys guilt or innocence could be his life. Gabe and myself had seen death and scraped it a time or two. When we had refused to fight against each other in the pit, the guards threw us in with 18 other men expecting us to die and be punished for our rebellion. We both knew we might die that day but we swore if we made and it came to us, we would lay down arms. It was known as the bloodbath of Dark Eagle prison. Five men had taken each other out, leaving ten wounded and three unharmed men, one of them known as the slaughterer. I don't remember everything but the other prisoners said we struck terror into the guards and other prisoners that day. All I recall is going after the Slaughterer and the other two men. I remember some of the weaker ones trying to flank me and attack at once, I broke one of their necks and bashed in the others face with my knee, then turning to see Gabe take out one of the larger men. In the end there was blood everywhere with three men standing. Gabe and myself had cornered the murderer and broke his neck without mercy. And it was over... My heart was beating loud enough from the rush of adrenaline, I could have sworn the entire world heard it. And so Gabe and I walked out of the prison pit, not only as victors but blood brothers. From then on, the guards, the guests and our fellow prisoners called us the Avenging Angels. We were never pitted against each other again. Gabe and I didn't find out, till well after the fight, but the prison had been put into a full lock down and the guests had been moved behind the safety cages for their protection. "The boy is looking for stability right now." Gabe starts. But its not his fault what happened tonight." He paused "And its not yours either. Scorp made his choice and it was to fight and die in this place." Gabe tosses me the bottle. "There's nothing you could have done, better to die by your hand then another." Gabe shakes his head with a heavy exhale. "Crazy old bastard never did want to leave this place, he was a king here. Out there he would have been nothing." I knew it was true and if Scorp had ever got out, he probably would have came right back here just for sport. "Your right." I agree. "I just wish I knew who the sick bastard was that betrayed us."                                             "You ever think that Ryback just wanted to get rid of him?" Gabe ask. "I know that guard has had it out for him for years now and with the new change over of head power, he might have got his wish."   "That is true and they did have a heavy confrontation the other day." I exhale rubbing my jaw where Scorp had left one of his own marks. "We could threaten the Billy tho, you know put a bluff on the kid." I smile. "Even if he is innocent, it wouldn't hurt to have him on edge wondering if we might get rid off him." I say while having another shot of vodka. "I agree." Gabe says taking the bottle. "Billy could use some more manners." We sit there for a while now passing the bottle between us both lost in our own train of thought. The prison is still alive but slowly quieting down, its almost 6:00, the sun is starting to rise and I can see the mist rising off the rusty bars of my cell window. "You wondering about Glass?" Gabe finally asks. "Yeah." I nod. "Whoever he is and whoever works for him has to be pretty powerful." I pause taking another sip of the vodka. "And another thing, what the hell does he want with me? Its going to be a damn risky thing getting us out of here. Maybe even a death trap of our own making. What if it is a trap?" I ask glancing over at Gabe. "I don't believe it is." He replies leaning forward and setting the vodka down on the table. "This guy wants you for something, as for what and your anonymous identity. I have no idea or foresight to that matter. This guy needs you for something and to him that makes you not only a valuable asset but possibly irreplaceable." Gabe smirks a small smile. "He's your ticket out of this joint! I'd suggest you take it." Gabe finishes with a hand gesture. "Oh Glass is the key to the gate of this hell." I say getting up from the chair next to the window. "But he won't have a puppet or indebted man." I cross the small cell and pick up a layer of dust and scatter it across the few belongings of my room and slowly back my way towards the door and shuffle the toe of my boot across the floor designing a hazy pattern to know if anyone enters my room while I'm away. Gabe is waiting in the hall, when I add the last finishing touches and drop some dust on my shut cell door. It's always good to know if someones ever snooping around your joint while your away, the process keep you aware to any new threats or enemies interested in oneself. "You ready?" I nod towards Gabe. There was no reason in asking if his cell was done, he had been the one that taught me how to enter and retreat from someones cell and other areas of the prison without leaving any signs behind. Gabe had been here before I came, so I didn't know where he was from or what his life had consisted of, before these walls. I never asked and neither did he, we didn't talk about our families or who we were before Black Eagle prison. As far as we were concerned that life was over. There had never been any hope of us getting out of here until now. And as far as I was concerned, my family was still better off without me. "The tunnels?" Gabe asks falling into step. "Yeah, Glass should have another message for us." I reply while we make our way towards the tunnels. We go through our normal routine of appearances and talking to other inmates. We make sure to bring no suspicion to ourselves, every prisoner had a pattern to their daily lives and that meant going through our own, even if it was just for theatrics...