Take a Chill Pill - Assorted Be More Chill Stuff

Execution

I promise it's a different story. Same idea. I just want to give you guys something and I have nothing super new. Again, I'd love requests. Anyway, have some more violent angst.

 I sighed and gave the chain a halfhearted tug. Nothing. I clenched my jaw as a tense shiver spread through my limbs. I screamed and yanked on the chain. All I accomplished was my fist slamming into my leg. A huff burst from my nostrils.

My breaths were slow and shallow. I slid as far from the chain as I could. My arm stretched into the ground. I shifted my weight and flopped onto my back, head away from the accursed mirror, staring at the ceiling. Flat. White. The same as it had been for forever. I lifted my arm and hit it on the floor, letting the soft clang of metal ring in the silence.

My new cellmate, the next victim, staggered into the room. I strained and crossed my eyes to watch the flicker of movement without lifting my head. White uniform. Copper skin. Shaggy black hair. They caught themselves against the wall and shouted in surprise. I hoisted myself onto my elbows. Their cuff had chained to the wall.

"Michael," I sighed a whine and fell back to the floor.

"Jeremy?" I made a noise of assent. "Ah, fuck." This got a chuckle out of me. I sat up.

"Well that's nice of you." Michael ignored me. He muttered to himself for a minute.

"So how've you been?" he finally said, turning to the mirror. I blinked at his sudden cheer. It was like I'd walked up to him in the hallway at school and said "hi." Or like he was inviting me over to smoke and play video games. Casual. What in this shitty purgatory was casual?

"You're kidding." I glared at him, eyebrows raised. So what if he couldn't tell?

"It was just a question." He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Fine, I guess. I'm getting used to this shithole." Venom seeped into my attempt at nonchalance. My eyes threatened rain. "I've seen three people die by now. It's great!" My face was screwed up against the broken dam of tears. My lips puckered, folding between my teeth.

Michael was silent. I attempted to contain my sobs, with little success.

"Who?"

"What?" My voice was still choked with tears.

"Who's dead?" My emotion flooded away at his words. I shivered.

"It--doesn't matter." I looked up at him, throat catching. He was looking at the floor, hair loose and falling over his face. He still stood against the wall, wrist restrained. "It's not like they're coming back."

"Don't say that."

"I watched them die, Michael! I watched them bleed out and suffocate and keel over and you're probably next." He grimaced at my hysterical rant.

"I kinda guessed." I crossed my arms as well as the chain would let me. Sympathy pricked through my fury. I choked up again.

"You don't look scared."

"I'm fucking terrified," He said. His eyes were wide behind his glasses. One of the lenses was cracked. He was a rat in a trap, and he knew it. Heat flared in my chest.

"Then do something! Don't you fucking dare die on me too!" Hysterical tears burned my cheeks as I shouted. Michael was muttering to himself again, rubbing his eyes.

"Of course they'd kill me anyway," he said after a minute. Loud enough that I could hear.

"You knew about this?" Michael flinched and looked up at me.