any of this shit?”
I shake my head. “I...I didn’t—”
“You are here because you were found guilty of crimes, and you’re now serving a sentence because of that,” he says, cutting me off. “This isn’t a fucking vacation. You don’t get to have privileges here unless I say so.”
Awash with newfound humiliation and nervousness, I find myself pressing harder up against the wall. The Warden seems to like the fact that he’s scaring me, because he smirks cruelly. “You think this all some big fucking joke? That Nightmare Penitentiary is some all-inclusive resort?”
“N-no, sir.”
He narrows his eyes, lifting the cigarette perched between his fingers and taking a long drag off it before blowing his polluted breath back into my face. My eyes immediately burn from the assault, but I don’t dare complain or try to move away.
He gives me a hard look until I’m squirming beneath his gaze. “Where is Inmate 57893?”
My eyes dart to the left to Rook for help, but he’s not even looking at me. He’s just staring down at his boots.
“I’m waiting.”
My eyes fly back to the Warden, and I cringe when I see that his shadows have started to float toward me. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Zen Urlson. Ring a bell?” he asks, his cigarette caught between his teeth.
My stomach drops. Fuck. This is about Zen escaping.
At the look on my face, the Warden takes another step forward until the top of his boots are stepping painfully on my bare toes. I bite my lip to keep from making a noise.
“Where is she.” A demand, not a question.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.
“We spoke with the troll. He claims it was you who was going to try to escape that night.”
Fucking Joe.
“Well, he’s misinformed, because I’m here, aren’t I?” I answer back.
The Warden studies me and then blows another puff of smoke in my face, making my throat burn as I’m forced to breathe it in. “You made trouble for me. I don’t fucking like it when inmates make trouble.”
I gulp. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m fucking done with you and your plush life here. It’s all about to end. And if you even think about causing any more trouble or breaking any rules, your ass is mine, do you understand? It’ll make your stint in solitary seem like nothing but a holiday.”
His voice is like a gavel of judgement cracking down, and my body breaks out in a cold sweat. His shadows curl around me with obvious threat, and my entire body shudders and sways.
He turns to look at the guards. “Remind her that she’s an inmate and under our thumbs. And strip it all,” he barks out before stalking out, disappearing into his own shadows.
The moment the Warden is gone, my cell is ascended on like a feeding frenzy of carnivorous birds diving into a sea of fish.
Guards, so many guards, rushing and stripping my room all at once. I’m caught against the wall like a fly in a web, watching as they destroy everything.
My mattress is pulled off the frame and sliced with a blade. My pillows are torn apart, making feathers go flying. My fridge is picked up and smashed against the wall, the loud crack filling the air as things from inside come bursting out. I duck and scream as my TV is yanked up and smashed onto the floor, glass shattering. They take all the pretty rocks I’ve collected and smash them against the ground, and then it all becomes one huge cacophony of smashing, kicking, cutting, tearing, and breaking.
I hug my knees against my chest, trying to protect my head as objects and broken bits fracture all around me, pieces hitting my body while I cower. And then I’m being dragged by the hair, a burst of intense pain flaring from my scalp as I scramble to grab hold of the hand and make him let go.
I’m tossed away like a rag doll for my efforts, and I land hard against the concrete floor, the side of my head smacking into the broken fridge sagging against me.
Blinking away stars, I look up at Sandbag standing over me. “Fucking shifter bitch, think you can just do whatever the fuck you want?”
Bam!
Lighting-hot pain lances through me as Sandbag lands a kick right into my stomach.
My tear-filled eyes lift up, desperately searching for Rook, and I see him standing by the door, his hands curled into fists at his sides, his fire-filled, furious eyes locked on Sandbag.
“Help,” I mouth to him as the first