Nyx Anora

The Beginning

*3 months before*

I heard someone knock twice before opening the door. A stocky man with a bald head walked in. "Get up. You've got a visitor," he said gruffly but I stared at him in shock. How on earth did I have a visitor now, after 4 years? It couldn't be my family, I made them think I'm dead. Or well, the family I have left thinks I'm dead.

I got up and he roughly cuffed my hands and pushed me out the door. I mulled over what he said and tried to think of any possible visitor. The only other options were my boss and the people I work with but they'd never seen me and I'd never seen them. All I did was sell drugs inside the prison through corrupt guards for my boss and he made sure my little sister was safe in the foster home.

Mr. Dick-Stick Prison Guard shoved me into the interrogation room and a black man with a buzz cut pulled out a janky chair for me to sit. At least he tried to be polite. I sat down and crossed my legs as he sat down and looked at me with a kind yet deadly smile and I stared at him straight in the eyes. Mama didn't raise no bitch. Well, my mom didn't raise me at all but that's not the point.

"I'm assuming some dickwad is listening in to this conversation so firstly; fuck you, dickwad and secondly; I'm gonna cut straight to it. I'm here to get you out. Ya did good business 'n' shit, but ya don' need this shit," and the second he said that I realised who he was. My boss.

"Look kid, I've been in a sticky situation like ya before, and I'm here to give ya a chance. Yer a good kid, at least accordin' to me, and I don't want ya goin' down the same path as me. I'm givin' ya a chance to get away from this life. I'm givin' ya a file with all the information I have on how you were put in here and while you're on yer treasure hunt to find the asshole who got ya here I'll keep Athena safe,"

I raised my eyebrow and crossed my arms. Leaning forward a bit on the table, I asked him, "What's the catch?"

He sighed, "Catch is you a) never see yer sister until you catch the dick shit who put you here because if he finds out he'll kill Athena and me probably and b) you kill two people for me. They're a couple and that's killing them is the last time you'll get blood on your hand 'cause of me. Do we have a deal?" He asked me, looking skeptical yet hopeful.

I began to think. I needed to keep Athena safe no matter what, and I needed to see her. I needed to get out. But I'd have to kill an innocent couple. Although I doubted if they're that innocent if they're a target and even if it sounded non-heroic, I cared more about myself and my sister than two random strangers that would die by my hands soon enough.

"We have a deal," and he smiled gleefully and shook my hands.

He messaged someone and while texting he said, "I'm Daniel," which lead me to ask him if he was British.

"Yeah. I guess me callin' myself Daniel over Dan is a dead giveaway. At least I'm good at fakin' accents," he smirked while looking at his screen.

"Well, ya just got your ticket to freedom," Daniel said and that's when Mr. Dick-Stick walked back in holding a pair of handcuffs.

"Have fun kiddo, this is your last day in these cuffs," Daniel said and walked out of the room as Mr. Dick-Stick cuffed my hands together and shoved me.

"Never heard of being polite, have you?" I snarked at him and he just grunted and walked.

I seriously wanted to know if he's a time traveller from the past. His idea of communication seemed to be grunting.

I was brought back to reality when he literally (and I mean literally, not figuratively-literally) threw me in my cell. As much as I hated being in solitary confinement, I needed to remember why I put myself in here rather than around other prisoners. I was able to hold out so long, might as well hold out another day.

It seemed cruel to kill a couple, or anyone really, and I was terrified because the last I killed someone was before I was in prison, since then I'd just been moving around drugs and occasionally beating up people (not by choice), but not to the point of death. I think what terrified me more is the possibility of me enjoying it, enjoying inflicting pain on people. Maybe since beating people up I had been aching for release in more drastic manners. I might've not realised I needed that form of release. Even before, I killed people but only to survive, which I agree is also what was happening here but it was rational (according to me at least) to be scared.

Before I realised my eyes closed and sleep took over me, my last sight being the cobweb covered ceiling of my cell. Tomorrow would be my day out of here, but I couldn't celebrate. Not yet. I needed to stay focused until I was finally, truly free.