A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 6 - Prison Rules

– – – NOAH – – –

Two weeks in Hopkins Elite Confinement had been surprisingly adaptable. As expected, Jenson was resourceful and talked me through everything I had to know about the prison's structure. For example: how to bribe a guard for cigarettes, how to convince the canteen lady to put proper food on my plate rather than the dogshit everyone else got, and what spots our group should claim. Other knowledge I had acquired myself, such as how to wrap the warden around my finger – literally at times – and make each scumbag here my bitch.

We were in the midst of recruiting inmates into our newly established group. After a quick shower, Jenson and I were going to scope the courtyard gym for any potential candidates. The fastest method would be to participate in the guard's fight club and become champion – prison rules. 

Truth be told, I was really looking forward to it, an unwavering itch prickled to be scratched. The scent of fear accompanied by a metallic taste of blood on the tip of my tongue. This was the ecstasy I sought and craved.

We strode into the showers, towel wrapped securely around our waists. "Uh-oh," Jenson exclaimed in alarm.

"What?" I asked unfazed.

"C-Carl is here," he stuttered with wide eyes of dread. 

I averted my gaze, peering at a half-naked man the size of a tree and built like a tank. His entire pale body was painted in tattoos, all the way up to his broad neck. His mint coloured hair tied in a bun and thick arched eyebrows intimidating the petite, scared man standing beside him. Their relationship was evidently clear, that little man was his main bitch. The rest of us were hors d'oeuvre waiting to be nibbled on until he was presented the main course.

"We should get out of here before he notices you," Jenson urged cautiously. "Carl has a young blonde fetish, so you'll get the worst of it." Jenson turned on his heel, tiptoeing towards the exit until a booming voice interrupted his plan of escape.

"Sup, my fellow inmates. I heard one of you is a serial rapist," I shouted across the room, successfully catching Carl's attention. His lips twisted into a warped smile when he strutted towards us. I returned his grin with inviting eyes.

"What in God's name are you doing?" Jenson panicked, his body trembling in horror.

"Well, well, well. Aren't you a pretty boy," he ogled in approval. "What did you get in for, sexy?"

I raised my brow arrogantly, assessing the extent to which I could break his boundaries as he had done to many of the puny scumbags here. "I got in for smashing your mum so hard, I put that bitch in a coma," I retorted mockingly.

"Don't you talk about my mama like that." He hoisted his fists at me, taking a fighting stance.

"I'm the most action she'd got in years," I taunted, his face became red with fury. "Other than that time she fucked a donkey to give birth to you."

"You think you're funny, huh?" He stepped closer, loosening his towel so it revealed his pelvis. "Why don't I make you my bitch, now?"

"Is that right?" I snarked sarcastically.

"I'll tear it up, gorgeous."

What a boring motherfucker. I yawned in response which unintentionally irked him further. This loser acted similar to a stereotypical prison rapist, how absolutely unoriginal. I was expecting he'd at least whip it out and we'd sword fight, but no. Nothing goes my fucking way.