Heaven in Hell

Ugh so I'm trying a new story out. I hope ya'll like it. It's a little different.

Unedited

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                “A newbie! Quick! This one’s different!”

                I listened as panic followed, everyone heading toward the gates. I stayed back in the shadows, where no one could see me, and watched. Once everyone had left to the gates at the front of Wayford, I backtracked through the empty hallway that led to the clock tower.

                The gentle padding of my feet quietly resonated off of the concrete walls. In the distance, I heard louder footsteps approaching. I launched myself into a closet, careful not to shut the door behind me completely, for fear of being heard and for want of hearing. I got as close to the crack as I could, leaning some of my weight on one of the doorframes. I caught some ongoing conversation between what I think were two guards:

                “If we don’t meet with the team in the time-“

                “I know! Hurry up and tie your shoe.”

                “How do you think the kid knew it was a trap? No one has before.”

                “Don’t talk about it where someone could hear you.”

                “No one’s around, Vin.”

                There was a pause in which I got as close as I could to the door, trying to be silent and not trip over the mop that was leaning on my leg.

                “I don’t know how he knew it, but he didn’t even approach the entrance. I heard from Ernie that he took just one look toward the entrance, which he isn’t even supposed to see, and ran toward the nearest cave. That’s where he is right now, and we’ll be going there with the team in less than five minutes, so hurry!” The guard- who I could only assume to be Vin- exclaimed.

                A man managed to not get baited in? How was that even possible? I wondered if he knew any other ways not to be tricked by the heartless prison. If I could somehow communicate-

                “There was something else, too, wasn’t there, Vin? They said he was young. Still in his teens, by the looks of it.”

                “Are you done tying your shoe, yet? We’re screwed if we don’t-“

                He was cut off by the other man. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get a move on.”

                Vin grunted and I heard swift footfalls as they ran off through where I came.

                I kept on down the hallways, feeling distracted with thoughts about the man- or boy, as the guards seemed to think he was.

                As my mind inundated with questions, my feet took me down the familiar path that led to the clock tower. I had long ago mastered the art of walking silently, since no one was allowed to know I existed and that I was here except the gang.

                I began ascending the spiral staircase that led to the clock, which I could watch everything through. It was normally so dreary while I was in here. But today the whole tower was lit from sunlight. Light danced through the hands and numbers of the clock and gave the worn cogs a brassy glow. It was so strange, seeing the light again. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt its warmth.

                Carefully, I peered over the edge of the base of the clock. I could make out the gates, and I could see all the prisoners lined up along the fences, watching. The gates were big and intimidating, and I had the sneaking suspicion that there was something off about them. Among the prisoners were the few people I could trust, but I could only see Bill from here.

                Bill had become a father figure to me. He has guided and protected me when I need the help. I like to think that he loves me, but he hasn’t said anything about love in all the time he’s been here.

                The thing is, I wasn’t supposed to be here. On Wayford. The place where men who have done terrible things come. Though no one knows how or why. It was like magic. There were no women, and certainly no one below eighteen. I had come here when I was four years old. I was now seventeen and the guards have yet to see me. I doubt anyone has even the slightest inkling I have been sneaking around here for the last thirteen years besides Bill and the men he has trusted enough to share my secret with. But I do not to talk to, nor to speak to, anyone he hasn’t approved of.

                I never asked why Bill had been summoned to Wayford. I don’t have the courage and I’m afraid of the answer.

                Suddenly chaos arose down by the gates. I noticed a boy being dragged toward the gates by two men. He seemed battered and the way his body was slumped indicated hopelessness. A bag was covering his head and his hands were being held behind his back. His entire being looked like he had given up, so I was utterly shocked to see him suddenly tense up ten yards from the gate and begin to fight. He ripped the sack off his head and my lips parted. I leaned forward , carelessly looking out the clock in full view trying to get a closer look.

                Even from this distance, I could tell he was beautiful. He had a mess of dark hair and cheek bones so sharp you could cut yourself. His frame was tall. I could tell from here that he had lean muscles that coiled as he struck out at the guards.

                I had never seen anyone be so beautifully violent.

                Realizing I was still in full view, I ducked down again, thankful that everyone was too busy watching the boy to notice me.

                He had taken out quite a few men already, and it took seven of them to get him tied up again. He then was dragged through the gates and toward the cells. Some of the guards barked orders at the other prisoners, and the headed in the same direction.

                I needed to leave the clock tower. Now. If I didn’t, I’d be caught by one of the guards when they came to check for any stragglers. I took off down the stairs and headed toward my little hide out.

                The hide out was in a secret space in the back of the shed in the garden. Bill knew a guy who made that happen for me. The guards had never found it, but I always got nervous when they checked up.

                I felt a desperate urge to see the boy. It was so strange, the way he stayed on my mind. He was just so different. He had fought where everyone else gave up. He had seen the trap while everyone else fell for it. He was the youngest in the entire prison. By about ten years.

                I believed he could help me. He could help me be the first to ever escape Wayford prison, where no one, not even the guards, knew was located.

                And I’d be lying if I said his looks weren’t a total turn on.

A/N: kaay. so what do ya think? Honestly, it seemed a bit cold when I was writing it, but DONT WORRY BECAUSE ITS ACTUALLY GONNA HAVE A LOT OF HUMOR IN IT. there has already been a lot, but sorry if you didn't catch it; it wasn't obvious. The rest will be.

I get that this part was a little oring, but it was kind of a filler, almost. I normally hate it when writers say that about their work, but in this case it's true.

I wonder what mystery boys name is? ;)

Sorry if you were reading condolences, I am having  major writers block with it.

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xoxo

Anon