The End Zone

Chapter 1 - The End Zone

Welcome to the end zone.

This is a place where everything you believed to be humane is destroyed. Think about the happiest moment in your life right, your mum or dog or lover. Imagine them doing their most favourite thing with you, the joy filling up the scene engulfing you into the moment. Such a wonderful scene of just you and your happiness...Now imagine it being ripped away from you. Their heads smashed, limbs dislocated, intestines exploded across the room. Kinda like those shitty scary movies with fake blood everywhere but real.

This sensation runs through everyone in the end zone, every single minute. There is no escape, no help line, and no survivors. Well except me, I didn't really escape more like made an agreement. For me to be released I would have to kill someone close to me, who I always had a strong connection with. And then and only then would I be released along with the rest of my cell mates. No, not cell mates more like family. Living and breathing blood relatives.

The owner of this place looked a lot like the white witch of the first Narnia movie, from the franchised. She wore a lot of white and looked dead inside. To be honest I always thought she was a robot. The cold-hearted actions she performed were definitely not humane. Her eyes were like black jelly beans, her skin as white as snow and her hair as brown as wood. She was immaculate, but deadly. I have lost track on the amount of times she has either threatened or tried to kill me. Savage is not the correct definition for this women but she definitely had no heart.

This 'company' on which she called upon contained hundreds upon hundreds of innocent people, being bought for slavery. No not the 16th century slavery, boy toys. She loved abolishing the soul of a person, making them nothingness. Allowing someone to be destroyed by personal thoughts is what she thrived on. She would pin us together, I was more abused by my blood relatives than herself. Watching her most loved possession try to kill you, was fucked up.

She just loved watching us in particular. Compared to the other cells you could tell who the favourite was. Cell A1, we were the first victims of this shithouse. Our cell is located in section 78, row 3. In our section, a large silver door, and I'm talking a warehouse roller door but opens like an elevator, separated the section. There was 5 rows, with 5 cells on each side in a 2-way pattern/column. T'was like a grocery store, where you could walk down the middle and chose as you please from each side. In this case, you were choosing inmates.

Each cell had a sound protector, like a barrier where you cannot hear the muffle screams of the other cells. In a sense, you could see the action, but you could hear it, like a silent horror movie. I guess it wasn't too bad. The cells had bars surrounding them except for the wall which had your bed. In our cells, the gate would only open by a master key-card, considering that after all this time we know how to break a lock with our bare hands. When you walk, there is small, shitty ass kitchen to the left. There's a stove top, few pots and pans, some utensils, plates, cups, bowls, cutlery and a sink. The beach top was completely empty, however in our 114th year, we earnt the rights to have a kettle, tea, sugar and coffee. Holy hell, the shit I went through for that.

You know they have a special sleeping pattern, you go to bed at 2am and have to be up by 7am right? Not too bad all the teenagers could last on less, but we couldn't even last on that. Only getting 5hrs of sleep, plus all the torturing, electro shock, mental shock, physical inability to sleep, 5hrs was an eye blink. So I was fed up and told her to shove it up her ass where the sun down shine. Either give us something to keep us awake or more sleeping hours. After a trade-off of Woody and some literal sucking up, we got our coffee stand.

So to the side of the kitchen bench was a shower, I'm talking to person shower with a removable head to hose you down after a gang bang. Not too shabby. The toilet not 2 meters next to it, with a little sink and mirror. On the right hand side there was a bunk bed, with double size beds. The wall on which the bed was on was brick, just like the back wall. In the centre of the room, an old white, round table with 6 white chairs. That was our survival kit, all we received. On our 86th year we got a private room, behind the back brick wall you pressed the green button and it would open to the private room. There was a small kitchen on the back wall, a toilet, shower, vanity and double bed. When days got tough, mental stability collapsed or you just wanted to fuck her girl in private, you'd go in there. On the inside you could seal the door shut quickly by pressing the red button. Tracy from section 45, row 4, cell J8, abused the privilege and found herself squashed by the brick door. Fun times eh?

So that was our room, basic necessities to last us a lifetime.

It's time I think to tell you who was captured for cell A1. Let's start with Stiles. Stiles was hot, like fucking gorgeous, however he lacked personality. He was quite, very shy and never talked back to her. Though he was compassionate, always there for one another and never let anyone sleep alone. A true gentlemen. His story began in another institution, where he was forced to ruin the virginity of an innocent. But that my friends is for the next chapter.

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It's different, it's twisted, its sexual.

Buckle up for something you have never read before.

Please comment and tell me what you think so far?

Signing out – THATGIRLNOBODYLIKES