And it’s all because I was brought here, to Cageton.
The memory consumes me as I stare blankly into the flames…
* * *
I creepover to the window outside the guard's room, peering in to see what the asshole is up to. From this angle I can see he’s still wearing his day guard uniform, despite him being on the night shift. The uniforms here are hideous, orange or white jump suits for the inmates and dark blue police like uniforms for the day guards, black for the night. Some guards, like the one on duty right now, work both day and night shifts back-to-back so they don’t change out their uniforms, but that’s neither here nor now, he's snoring softly which is a good thing for me but bad for him.
The stupid fool only has one job, stay awake and keep an eye on the inmates. Without the guards the other inmates would slaughter each other. Especially since no one bothered to fix the electronic locks after the last storm we had. Every single inmate could get out of their cells if they tried and lucky for the guards no one has outed this information yet. We’d have riots on our hands if everyone knew. The last riot had several inmates being killed or maimed, even I was injured when one particular asshole tried using me as a shield.
Lucky for me though, I’m pretty hard to kill and when all the other inmates are asleep, I sneak out of my cell and that's when I can get to the stupid sleeping guard. I don’t really want to go near him, but he’s the only shmuck in here who sleeps while on duty, so I really don’t have a choice.
I creep down the passageway as silently as I can. Soft snores startle me from my left. The inmate stirs then settles again. I hurry past, only a few feet from the guardroom.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" I scream, I can't help it, I'm weak, tired, and starving, which makes me a sitting duck. The girl is Inmate 386, otherwise known as Flaming Franny. No I don’t think that’s her real name, but that’s what she introduces herself as before she tries to kill you with a box of matches and lighter fluid. She grabs my hair, yanking my head back. "Reese wants to see you, he's taken quite a liking to you." She mumbles around the matchstick in her mouth.
I gulp, trying to hold back my fear as she rips strands of my hair out, but a scream rips from my throat anyway.
Reese is one of the male inmates from the D-block cells, from what I've heard he likes to take female inmates back to his cell, but when they return the girls are never the same. The last one who went to his cell caused a riot during our evening mealtime. She was screaming about Reese eating her soul or something. The worst part is that she was found this morning in her cell. She’d hung herself using her own shirt. Considering the type of clothing they provide us with, hanging yourself with a shirt is quite a feat.
"What the hell is going on here?"
My screams must have woken the guard. I cower, thinking he knows what I've been doing to him when he sleeps, but it's not me he comes after; he grabs inmate 386, slamming her head into the wall.
I fall to the ground on my back, staring up at the ceiling as Inmate 386 screams. Her scream is cut short as the sound of her skull cracking echoes throughout the quiet cell block.
I scramble back, trying to get away from the pool of blood dripping down the wall and pooling at the guard’s feet. I’m so horrified by the sight of the blood and my own reaction to it that I just sit here, staring at the pool while my stomach growls like a wild beast.
Nausea rolls through me at the same time a ravenous hunger takes over all my senses.
"Let the prisoner go and put your hands on your head." I gasp, looking up. And up. Standing less than a few inches away is a man, he’s at least six foot. At least… but what has me gasping is the fact that he’s standing protectively over me, gun in hand.
No one has ever protected me. At least not that I can remember. I’m not really the type of person who needs protecting. I can take care of myself after all.
My jaw is wide open at the sight of this man, he's gorgeous. I’m talking model good looks, bright emerald eyes and the darkest thick curls I’ve ever seen. The guy is ripped beneath those clothes and his face has just the right amount of stubble to be sexy without him looking like he’s auditioning for a lumberjack photo shoot. I scan his outfit of dark wash jeans and flannel shirt and bite back a startled scream at the sight of a police detective badge clipped to his black leather belt.
"Stay behind me." He says looking right at me. I scramble to flip myself over so I'm on my hands and knees and crawl along the hard cement floor until I'm behind him; that's when I notice the second cop. His blonde hair is longer than you would expect a cop to have, but it's his piercing grey eyes that have me lusting after him. He stretches out his strong muscular arms, gripping me around my ribcage. I squeak as he lifts me up and over his shoulder with the ease of someone deceptively strong despite his lean frame.
The guard loses his shit the second the cop touches me. "Get your hands off my girl!"
"Stop or we'll shoot!" I’m not sure who says it. My mind goes completely blank as I stare open mouthed at the pulse throbbing in the neck of the cop who’s holding me. The pounding in that one vein is so hypnotic that I literally have to force my gaze away.
The guard pulls his taser and baton free from his belt shouting, " I'll fucking kill you!" Suddenly he's coming right at us, showing no regard for his own life or the fact that there are now two guns pointed in his direction. I scream as the first shot rings out right next to my ear. The blast along with my endless hunger take a toll on me that’s too much for my frail body to bare.
The world goes black.
I have no idea how long I’m out for but when I wake up, I find myself in a real bed, surrounded by beeping machines and the distinct copper smell of blood.
That’s how I found myself living with two police detectives in this pathetic little town.
* * *
The fire makesa popping sound and I bite my own tongue, the pain as well as the taste of blood brings me back from the memory. Taking a few deep breaths to dispel the shivers running down my spine, I turn to look around at the party. A boy passes me carrying un-opened beers and I snatch one. Popping the top and drinking it down in one gulp. I can't get drunk, so I don't have any chance at drowning the memory away, but the hops taste eases the copper tang from my mouth.
The flames draw my attention again and I get lost for several minutes, until a hulking guy blocks my view of the fire and I turn my gaze away from the sparks in the sky, twisting the gold coin around in my palm, my fingers rubbing across the rough surface. It's an odd coin, one side has the face of a woman with a halo, the other side has five tiny male faces, each with horns like that of the devil. The moment I found the coin a few days ago, I just knew that it belonged to me.
The guy in front of me, takes a step back away from the fire, my eyes roam over his messy punk style chestnut hair, then down to his leather jacket that’s draped over a really tight black T-shirt. I keep going, taking in his long legs clad in tight black jeans, and as he turns to face me my heart freezes in my chest. The most piercing dark blue eyes are staring right into my soul. I can physically feel his gaze digging in and trying to find all my secrets. I swallow the lump in my throat and open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Flicking my gaze across his features, I notice the corner of his perfectly kissable lips turn up into a cocky lop-sided grin. Another step closer and he's leaning over me, his breath tickling the lobe of my ear. "Hey beautiful..." His voice is husky and enticing, but before he can say anything else, the crowd of teens begin to chant."Race! Race! Race!"