Locked up [Destiel Prison AU]

Welcome to Hell, and enjoy your stay

Okay people. Here it is. That only took half a year. Score!

I waited so long before posting, just cuz I needed a little break, but now I'll start posting regularly again, just fyi. I really hope you guys like this story. Enjoy!

Update: This is kinda an important update, so ples don't skip this :))))) Okay, the thing is that halfway through this story, I found out that I didn't have enough time on my hands for continuing it. Therefore, it is not finished. So if you (like most people, myself included haha) wouldn't want to waste your time on reading a book with no ending, it's probably best to just find another one to read. I made a list of my personal Destiel fanfiction favourites in the last chapter of this book, if you would like any suggestions <3

Now

The sign above the gate was big. It was standing distinctly out against the monotone construction of steel, thus it was readable from even a long distance. "Pontiac Prison", it said. That very sight was probably the most depressing one to ever have met Castiel Novak's eyes.

For a split second, Castiel almost felt like he was a Jew, being lead into a concentration camp from the Second World War to spend the rest of his days there. He quickly shook the inappropriate feeling away, though. He shouldn't be thinking that way, that was noting but plain respectless. The fault for him being here was no one's but his own, and he couldn't compare himself to the innocent victims of the holocaust. Besides, he wouldn't work himself to death or get gassed in here. This wasn't the place he was going to die. He would survive.

Castiel couldn't make up his mind on whether he was relieved or not for the drive coming to an end, when the truck carrying him finally drove in through the massive gateway of the prison, the sign hovering over it. On the one hand, it was good to just get this over with, so he could finally stop dreading this very moment.

Besides, he was starting to get really carsick; the combination of the mouldy smell, the bumping of the truck and the ripping sound of his shackles every time he moved was making him dizzy, and the last thing he wanted at the moment was to puke all over the prisoner transfer car. He doubted the driver would be too happy with him if he did.

On the other hand, he conceded, the truck finally driving through the gates meant they were there. His last moments outside the fence for a long time - his last moments of freedom - had already passed.

The driver - a done-looking man with greasy hair (either from hair gel, or from not having showered in too long) - parked the truck in front of a brick wall right inside the gate, next to a similar-looking car.

Pontiac Prison wasn't a big one. Castiel had been looking it up on the Internet before the trial, just to see what he might have coming. He liked to be prepared. To know what he could be expecting.

The prison consisted of an old building complex, curved around a great field, and high walls surrounded the whole thing. The place didn't look very intimidating, as the buildings were made of red bricks. Therefore, some genius had gotten the idea of running barbed wire over the prison walls – just to give the place that little extra prison-touch, or whatever. Well, it worked.

Castiel rested his cheek on the window next to him, looking up at the sky. He wondered what time it was right now. He wasn't wearing a watch - inmates had no use for one, he was told, and the guards would just confiscate it if he'd been wearing one, so he'd left it at home instead, along with all his other positions. The only things he had left now was his clothes, and he knew they'd soon take them away from him too.