Detain the Beast

Chapter One

It takes 601 seconds to reach the entrance of the prison from the car. Another 203 seconds to get to a room where a man is waiting for me. I know this because I'm endlessly counting to ease my nerves.

His hair is brown; curled at his neck and his posture is straight and unmoving. He looks no more than 40 but his eyes tell me he's gained too many years of knowledge.

He wants me to shake his hand.

"Belle! How was your flight? You look well. My name is Winston and I am the leader of The Establishment."

I'm not sure if he breathed once.

"Hello." I look around the room, wondering whether or not I should sit on the chair. Instead, I look at Winston; his eyes too big and his clothes too tight.

"So, I'm sure you're eager to start. You're to know that Augustus is stubborn and, I'm going to be completely honest, he hasn't spoken a word to anyone since his trial a year ago." His smile is becoming almost sickening.

"Not a word? To anyone?" I fix my eyes on the streak of grey against his brown tufts of hair, avoiding the piercing stab of his teeth.

"He's said a few words to other prisoners, probably. And to prison guards. But never to me- us- anyone in The Establishment."

"So how do you know he'll talk to me?" I raise my eyebrow as he scratches his chin roughly.

"We don't. We'll just have to see. Now, the aim of your game is to get him to trust you. Get him to tell you all his cute little secrets. Be his friend. Then, if you feel like he's mentally alright, send him up to us. You won't ever have to see him again."

He wraps his arm around my shoulder and I can't help but flinch.

"You want me to gain his trust, gain his friendship, then completely dismiss it once I figure out if he's sane or not?" I frown as his ever-constant smile flickers.

"He's a murderer, Belle. Do remember that." His grin returns and suddenly his hand is on the small of my back, guiding me out of the small office.

"I'll visit you once a week to measure your progress." His hand leaves my back and stops me in the middle of a long, empty hallway. "Belle, remember that you are undercover. No matter what, you cannot reveal your identity. You cannot talk about The Establishment, ever. Do you understand me?"

His face is so empty of emotion, I could mistake it for a blank piece of paper.

"Yes, I understand."

Then, he smiles.

"Your name will still be Belle Newton and you're still 18 years old. The only difference between the real Belle and the Belle here is that you've been sent to prison for murder. I'd suggest you convince him that you didn't actually commit the crime and you're just here by mistake."

"Who did I supposedly murder?" I bite my lower lip, feeling my heartbeat start to pummel.

"Your mother. Now I know that you have lost your mother, and this has nothing to do with that, but being undercover means you must void yourself of any emotions." I want to peel that stupid smile off his face.

"The prison guard should be coming over soon. He knows that you're undercover. Be careful Belle. Good luck, I'll be hearing from you soon." Winston turns sharply and disappears around the corner leaving only the smell of his expensive cologne lingering in the stale air.

"Belle? I'm Davidson. Augustus' cell is just down the hall. The very last one. That's where you'll be staying-"

"Augustus' cell? I'll be staying in his cell? With him? Just me and him? Just Aug-"

"Yes, that's the arrangement. Follow promptly please." There is a gun strapped to his back and a knife strapped to his bullet-proof vest. He walks down the hall, turning his head back at me every once in a while.

Each door has a window; a small circular window.

A psycho in every single cell. 

I stop abruptly, swallowing gulps of air as if I had been starved of oxygen. Davidson looks over his shoulder at me and his eyebrows raise in alarm.

"Belle?"

"I've- I've changed my mind. I want to go home. I can't- I shouldn't- He could- What if-" He grabs my upper arms and shakes me a little.

"As much as I would love to let you go, Augustus is currently being escorted back to his cell right behind us. I think it's too late to back out now."

My head turns without my consent and my breathing stops completely.

He is walking perfection.

He is so perfect it makes me sick.

His jaw has been carved with utmost precision as if touched by some miracle gene. His hair is a dirty blonde, tousled and messy at the top but shaven shorter at his sides. His eyebrows are darker than the blonde in his hair, and it's just as gorgeous as the odd shade of green his eyes carry. He's like a robot. A creation.

My eyes meet his and I'm, again, hit by the perfectness of his complexion. He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze lingering for a second too long. Davidson answers the silent question.

"This is Belle Newton. She's going to be sharing your cell."

For an agonising second, Augustus' eyes trail the length of my body and it's completely tantalising. Then he looks away; an empty canvas once again.

He's already walking into the cell.

It's insanely white, the cell. Oddly spacious with a single bathroom split by a wall. There are two beds, two blankets, two pillows. Two people. A murderer and I.

I step inside after a small push from Davidson, pulling at the sleeves of the cotton shirt I'd been provided with. Augustus is already sitting on his bed, pulling out a book from under the pillow.

The door slams shut and I squeak in surprise. Looking around fleetingly, clenching and unclenching my fists, I decide that I should talk. Maybe we can have a civilised conversation.

"Augustus, right?" There, easy.

He doesn't look up from his book.

"Right, well... I suppose I can assume that this is my bed?"

He turns the page.

I sit down on the bed quietly, biting the inside of my cheek. I'm too curious about the book to hold my lips. 

"What book are you reading?"

Another page turn.

Huffing in blatant annoyance, I trot off the bed and walk towards him. The title is covered by his fingers.

"To Kill a Mockingbird. Odd choice."

He looked up over his book, making no effort to move his head, silencing me with his almost venomous stare.

"A good book though!" I practically leap to my bed, covering myself in the thin, white blanket.

This is ridiculous.