Proserpine: Chronicles

[frozen]

Killer Instinct

It had been nearly a month since I had been locked up. There has not been a single day ive not gotten into a fight, but today was different. I was about to witness a death by my hands for the first time inside the prison.

Just like every other day, waking up in the morning and heading into the shower area, I did the same today as well. It just so happened that I ran out of toothpaste, and I asked one of the other guy’s who I had befriended, so to speak, for his tube. It was just then that the situation erupted. Apparently, I had managed to really piss off one of the cell mates, because I chose to ignore his comments and threats. Yes, I know. What in the name of all that is holy is that all about? Hes angry at me because I chose to ignore him?

*laughs*

Anyway, when I moved into the shower area, and had my eyes shut, with the water pouring over my face, he moved towards me. He had a hidden shaving blade hidden in the palm of his hand, for a smooth, silent kill I suppose. Idiot. Hand to hand combat is where I excel at.

I dunno what happened, but somehow, I felt that there was someone who was about to attack me, and that was enough for me to duck rapidly, turn round on my heels, and land a punch on the man’s chest with enough force to crack a hole in a reinforced door. Im guessing it hurt quite a bit, since he let out a silent sigh of pain, put on an expression of pure anguish on his face, eyes constricted, almost comically looking like he suffered from a bad case of constipation.

His body flew backwards, his arms flailing about in the air uselessly, the blade dropped from his hand onto the floor. He landed quite a distance away from me, one hand on his chest, while he tried to get up using his other hand. It gave me enough time to duck and swoop the blade off the floor, take it out of it’s sheath, and throw it with a similar amount of precision as an atomic clock towards the guy’s neck. The force of the throw was so intense, that only a tiny amount of it could be visible. The rest of it had been embedded into his neck, piercing his jugular vein.

I knew if the blade was removed, the guy would bleed to death faster than a cardamine addicted whore would reach a point of a fake climax, and to an extent, I was silently hoping one of the men in the shower-room would do it for me. But I guess not all dreams are meant to be fulfilled. No matter. He’d bleed to death anyway, but much more painfully, and that thought gave me enough satisfaction, to not care about the consequences of my actions. An assassin’s reflex actions are extremely lethal, it seems.

*laughs out loud*

It didn’t take the guards more than a minute to move in and knock me down to the floor, but one thing’s for sure. They didn’t seem to inclined to send in the meds to save the guy. After seeing the guard’s reaction, the thought “every man for himself” struck me in a way that even the joys of being a pimp wouldn’t satisfy.

The guards led me towards a section of the Prison, which I knew I hadn’t been to, and while I was trying to figure out what was going on, the noise level of the prison kept on falling lower and lower, like a dying echo. It wasn’t until there was only the sound of marching soldiers and the sole prisoner being dragged between them did I realise- I was being put into solitary confinement, “for the safety of others”.

I thought that solitary confinement would do me good, but it hadn’t even been 15 minutes since they had put me in my cell, that I began to hate it more than a drug abusing teenager hating his parents for trying to set him back on the right path once again...

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