Wasp

Chapter Five: The cell

James woke up in a small puddle of his own blood. He had a large cut on the left side of his face, it started from the top of his head an led down past his eyebrow, it would leave a scar. James winced as he touched it gently, the area around it was slightly infected, he'd have to clean it at some point.

James looked around at the surrounding area, it was a cold, damp and dark room, a single barred window shone light onto the other side of the cell. A hard metal door made of scrap from old cars and other metal items was directly across from him, a small slat at the top opened and a pair of dark brown eyes peered in.

"Hey, you're finally awake" James recognised that phrase from somewhere but he couldn't quite put his finger on where it came from. James looked up. A woman with dark skin and curly black hair that was tied back in a knot and shaved at the sides walked in, she looked down at James and smiled menacingly. "Scared? Wimp" she mocked, "You should be." Out of her belt she drew a long machete, she sauntered up to James and put it to his throat. "WHO ARE YOU WITH" she yelled in his face, her voice deafening him.

James struggled to speak, his palms started to sweat and he felt his knuckles turn white with fear. "W-what no one" he stuttered, trying to sound confident but failing miserably. The woman took the machete away, leaving a small cut on his neck that oozed with blood. She started to walk away and before she did, she punched him round the face, "fucking wimp" she muttered then rolled her eyes and walked out the door.

James spat out blood and spluttered slightly. His lip was split open, his felt like he had a concussion and his neck still dripped with fresh blood that was now soaking onto his shirt. He looked like a mess. He looked up at the window then burst into tears, he was going to die here, he knew he was.

A few minutes later he finished crying, he hadn't cried that much in years, even after Jane...passed. He sighed and wiped his eyes then pulled his knees up to his chest. He looked around, looking for his jacket and hat and of course the watch, no sign of the belongings. James got up, worried, searching every nook and cranny of the cell but his efforts were for nothing his belongings were gone and he doubt he would get them back.

While looking for his stuff he inspected the room, a small matress lay in one corner, it had no blanket but it was one hundred times better than the floor. In the other corner was a bucket, James knew what that was for and he rolled his eyes. Apart from that it was bare and damp, why the hell was it so damp. James looked around just as a plate of "food" slid underneath the door. The food, if you could even call it food consisted of a lump of cold post apocalyptic porridge, two pieces of jerky, half a lemon to prevent scurvy and a wooden cup full of water. He took the plate and started to eat, or at least tried.

He gagged at every mouthful of the mush but it was better than nothing, he slid the plate back underneath the gap it came from and layed down on the bed. Just before he managed to fall asleep the door unlocked once again and slid open, someone was coming in.