Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Bits of paper and clothing are strewn about the cracked concrete floor. Thin dirty mattresses are everywhere except on the iron bed frames, the welds thick at the joints from multiple repairs. Some of the mattresses are leaning against the bottom of the stairs. Some are stacked in the middle of the hallway. Some just lay about at various angles with tears exposing their springs like corpses left in the very spot they died in.
There’s more graffiti here than on the outside of the building. Painted on the floor is a large red satanic star. I shut my eyes tightly as I cross over it. When I’m sure I’m clear I open my eyes again and look up to where an entire doorway of a cell appears to be stained in blood. A large splatter covers the right side, turning into thinner and thinner drip marks the further down the wall I look before turning into a black pool stain on the concrete.
Bile rises in my throat.
I can see the violence of the past all around me. It flutters in the air like ghosts surrounding me, making their presence known. They whisper in my ear, sliding across my prickly skin.
The breeze turns from warm to cold as the sun sets and the prison glows with a deep blue as the moon lights our way. I can hear the screams of the past. Banging against the bars. A last cry of whoever met their unfortunate end in that blood-stained cell.
“I’m not afraid,” I say out loud. I’m not sure if I’m talking to Smoke or myself. But even I don’t believe my own words.
Smoke chuckles, guiding me into a cell and slides the metal bars shut with a bang, creating a never-ending echo. He produces an ancient-looking key and locks the cell with a click that makes my heart jump in my chest.
The sun’s almost completely set now and the light through the windows is dim at best.
“No lights?” I ask.
The second the words leave my lips I know it’s a stupid question. The place barely has standing walls. Of course, it doesn’t have electricity.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark,” Smoke says, tucking the key into his back pocket.
“No,” I lie. “I’m not afraid of anything. Not even the likes of you.”
The corner of his lip curls up into an evil, half-smile. He leans forward with his hands on the bars right above his head. He looks me up and down. His eyes widen. He looks hungry. Angry. Feral.
“Oh, hellion. I very much doubt that.”
I take a step back to gain more distance even though there are bars separating us.
“I've seen fear a million times in a thousand different ways,” Smoke says.
He pulls out the key once more and turns it in the lock. He’s inside the cell now.
I’m backing up and backing up until I’m trapped against the far wall.
Smoke approaches and leans down. He’s so close his nose is almost touching the place between my neck and ear.
“You can’t tell me you’re not afraid. I know fear when I see it.”
I’m trembling as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply running the tip of his nose runs across my skin.
“Fuck, I can smell it on you, kid.”
“Don’t call me a kid,” I seethe through my teeth.
His eyes darken with fury. “I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you.”
“My name is Frankie.” I say with a sudden boost of confidence.
He’s so close now, his chest is pressed against mine. “I know your name. I just don’t fucking care.”
We’re still, locked in position, neither one of us wanting to make the first move. Smoke breaks first.
“Your eyes really are that color,” he whispers. I’m taken aback.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I ask, on a shaky whisper.
Smoke places his hands on the wall beside my head, caging me in. I’m eye to emotionless eye with the ghost of Christmas kidnapping.
“Whatever the fuck I want,” he growls.
“Fuck you,” I spit.
He chuckles, and I can feel it in my chest. His lips brush against my jaw.
“Only if you beg.”
Chapter Thirteen
I’m alone.
Smoke’s gone. He left me a mattress and a few bottles of water. The cell has no toilet but a small metal sink with no running water. Since it has the only drain in the place, I use it to relieve my full bladder and lay down just as darkness blankets everything.
It’s freezing. I’m awake, but I’m not sure if I’ve slept yet or not. I don’t remember dreaming, but I also don’t remember falling asleep. How long have I been in here? Minutes? Hours? Days? Long enough to make me understand how inmates in solitary go crazy.
Sitting alone in this cell is a lot like walking on train tracks in the dark when you know a train is coming along at any second. My skin pricks with anxiety. With the unknown.