I woke up again in a cell. This time the prison was quiet, eerily quiet. Just the lack of sound sent shivers down my spine. Turning around i realized i was in my old cell, before making a full 180 the smell hit me. It hit me like a truck and i stumbled back. Looking up i saw the cross i had carved out of the stone. hanging there was a head, the jaws slack, and eyes bloodshot. Blood was still leaking from the neck as if it was freshly killed. Normally the sight of death doesnt afect me, but then i saw the faint, soft edges of a female face. Stumbling closer to the dismembered head, i had to hold back the heaving of my stomach. the woman could be no older than 30, about the age my wife would be. Then i realized why the face seemed familiar. Because it was.
Tears ran down my cheeks as i reached out to touch the cheek of my wife. Or what used to be my wife.
Anger bubbled up inside me, I screamed my lung out; my screams eventually became tears. As i sat and wept a new resolve found its way through the sorrow. I felt the murderous intent thart came often when i got angry. I stood up and walked over to the barred gate, my head hung. I mumbled something and the guard turned to me. I sobbed and asked to see the woman that did this.
Like the trained gorilla he was he left. Returning with the latina woman that started all this. I couldn't look her in the eye, I never like people seeing me cry. So i simply mumbled
"What do you want? What do you want me to do for you? "
I saw a smile form on her lips as she thought she broke me. The sight turned my stomach, and it made my vision go red. But I managed to stay sane. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and clenched my fists.
"There is a a file that an ex boyfriend stole from me. It has a list of all my dealers, and enforcers. And I cant get it back because he is in Brazil, one of the most complicated cities I have ever seen"
I growled under my breath and said the word that sealed my death
"O.K"
She opened the cell door threw the black duffel bag infront of me. It took all my strength to not rush out and try to beat the Latina woman to pudding.
Opening the bag I began to change into the black one piece, strapping on and tightening the harness for the pistol under my shoulder, the sword on my back, and the sub-machine gun on my thigh. I was glad the holsters were empty or people would die.
I closed my eyes and calmed myself before accepting and leaving the prison.
