SCS(CP): Peace, Stryfe, and the Amber Eyes of Fire..

*Chapter Six*

I stared into Ramon’s unyielding eyes, knowing he was dead set on his claim to me, one Carlo Sr. had no right to give. This was still the same spoiled covetous boy from years past, going through life stunted as the petulant ruffian.

That said, I could not deny his attractiveness, few in this section of the facility rivaled him. Such an incubus among men, I’m sure he was used to having others succumb to his will countless times, with barely an effort. I had to try though, even if it proved fruitless, there just had to be a way to keep him at bay.

A bell, resounding loudly, signaled our return to cellblock. The disjunct shuffling mass of inmates made their way to the door, to line up single file. Ramon stayed behind, a few of his men lagged as well, to accompany him. He stood there a moment, albeit contemplating his next steps, before he made a move to reach for me once more. Instinctively I slapped his hand away, taking a step back. The voice of Cerberus rang out and interrupted what was sure to be an escalation of an already tempestuous situation.

“Do we have a problem here gentlemen?! O Rei, I thought you were done fishing? What’s the deal? This out here ain’t your territory and you know I don’t play that shit anyways! Don’t confuse me with Muhg fat ass, so GET MOVING, return to cellblock now!” He turned to me, pointing his baton. “YOU, FISH! You come here. You’re getting the citation for starting all these damn problems, and you just fucking got here! You’ll learn not to act up on my shift, you fucking punk!”

He sent Ramon and his remaining men on their way, while I waited behind, watching, as the predator never took his eyes off me, up until his exit. I looked to Cerberus for answers, only to find the biggest shit eating grin I’d seen to date. I couldn’t help but chuckle at him, glad he had come through like he promised. He let me finish eating and I sampled an untouched fruit salad that sat unopened amongst Ramon’s feast. Afterward, Cerberus escorted me to cellblock wishing me the best of luck as he departed.

Once the doors locked behind me, I wasted no time getting to my cell. I had no desire to run into any undesirables like Pandora or Ramon and his men, though I’m sure he had them keeping tabs on me. I tried to stay as off the radar as best I could, eventually making it to my cell uneventfully.

Laying on the top bunk, eyes closed and humming a tune, was this extremely youthful appearing boy with a earthy brown colored complexion. He was very nice looking and as clean cut as they came. His hair was shorn short, waving in a nice fluid pattern. His slender athletic build could be seen beneath a sky blue jumper, but he appeared as though he was barely escaping the clutches of puberty. I approximated his height to be between 5’7 or 5’8, as he appeared just a tad shorter than myself. This must have been the guy the Warden was talking about, he definitely didn’t look like he belonged in the prison system, but then who does when they’re this young.

“What song is that you’re humming?” His eyes popped open wide, I guess I had startled him.

He immediately smiled and hopped down from the top bunk. I was accurate in my assessment of his height, as he was almost on height with me. He gave me that contagious smile of his, as he held his hand out for me to shake.

“Oh, that’s ‘Next to Me‘ by Emile Sande. I try to stay current on music on the outside as best I can, because I wanna try and make it in the Entertainment Industry when I get out in ten years. I’m Peace, by the way.. you must be Jynx! The Warden told me to be expecting you, and I saw your stuff on the bed.”

He had such a melodic voice, very pleasant to the ear. He also had such an exuberant personality, one could not help but be drawn into his effervescent aura.

“That’s cool, are you any good? How about you sing some of the song for me? I haven’t heard it before.”

“Oh Ma Gawd! You gonna put me on the spot like that? Ok..” He took a deep breath “Here we go…” He said nervously, before starting off his acappella take on the song.

He had a great tone, and surprisingly, impeccable control. I was thoroughly impressed, setting a reminder for myself to let my siblings know about this hidden talent, they’d know how to make him a star.

“Wow! You’re really good! You kinda remind me of Jessie J, just a boy version. Thank you for sharing your gift with me.”

“Oh don’t mention it, I’m just happy to sing for someone other than my husband Stryfe.”

“Husband? Is he in here too? How old are you?”

“Yes, we met when I got transferred here here last year. He took me under his wing, protecting me.. I turned eighteen years old on the fourteenth of February, last year. When you are as pretty as we are, it’s imperative you have a husband in here or you run the risk of being ran through by a train of niggas like yo ass is Grand Central Station, honey! Or even worse, you have to join ‘a courte do Rei‘ as one of the Kings whores.” He involuntarily shivered “Ooh chile! I wouldn’t wish such a punishment on my worst enemy!”

“So, I have to exchange my body for protection? Hell no!”

“You don’t HAVE to, but that is the most common route taken by the girls in here.”

“I’m not a girl, Do I look like I’m in transition to you?” I replied a bit rudely, getting irritated at people assigning me roles based on chauvinistically ignorant stereotypes. Peace let out a laugh, further upsetting me.

“I fail to see what’s funny?”

“Mizz thang you betta cut that shit out right now! This in here is a whole new world! You thought we only got sorted by race? Look at you! I’ll be the first to admit that your gorgeous.. and that hair! You giving me ‘poetic justice‘ Janet Jackson tease, bitch. I live!” He snapped his fingers, and I couldn’t help but to chuckle. “The problem is, them looks count against you because of the masc/fem hierarchy in this place. They sort all that shit out during fishing day when they make the pretty ones fight for freedom.”

“Well.. I didn’t exactly fight for freedom.”

“WHAT!?! That’s never happened before as far as I know.. and I know EVERYTHING that goes on in here.”

“I sorta had a showdown with that Pandora guy.” He gasped, his face grim, I continued on. “It got testy and then Ramon put a stop to it.”

He had a panicked look on his face and he looked outside our cell to see if we had eavesdroppers, turning back to me, he whispered unnervingly.

“You dare call O Rei by his gov’ment name? BITCH are you crazy? He’s killed every man bold enough to utter it with his bare hands, in the most gruesome of ways.”

“Hhggrmm..” I cleared my throat, nervously. “I will never call him King, master, sire, or anything else! Me and that guy sort of have a history together.. It’s a looong story.”

“Chile we literally have nothing but time, don’t worry, the only reason everyone tells me their secrets, is cause I keep the good ones to myself! Hahaha, so spill that chamomile tea!”

Laughing as well, I proceeded to fill him in on the story with me and Ramon. It took some time, but it felt good to talk to someone outside my usual bubble and really connect with them. He told me about his life back home in Washington, D.C., he also delved into why he was in here.

When he was sixteen, he was on his way home from school. Along the way, he got attacked and raped by an older schoolmate. The kid pulled his father’s gun out to threaten him afterward, but he panicked, and they began to tussle for control of it.

It went off prematurely, hitting the attacker in the head, splattering blood everywhere. When the police arrived to the crime scene, they immediately arrested him. Peace soon found out, the rapist was the son of a senator, and the case got pushed through the system. They tried him as an adult, giving him a deal of fifteen years with eligibility for parole in ten, he only took it because he would have had to face the death penalty otherwise. Hearing him describe the scene of his sister and her child that he helped raise, crying in hysterics as he was sentenced, sounded all too familiar to me.

After having problems at every other facility along the east coast, He was quickly sent here to Mythos Peak Penn to serve out the rest of his sentence. Upon arrival he, of course, was put to auction. He bravely chose to fight, the first challenger was his soon to be husband Stryfe. He admitted to his initial fear of him, but that he knew had to stand his ground. Stryfe was too fast though, quickly wrapping him up in his iron grip, immobilizing him effortlessly. He had whispered in his ear for him to relax, that he wouldn’t hurt him, all he had to do was give in. After a few moments he did. Stryfe kept his word, they shared a cell and quickly became friends. Stryfe was doing a twenty long bid for burglary and manslaughter, taking Peace as his first ever cellmate, in the times he’d served so far. The friendship quickly became intimate, the two falling hard for each other.

It was quite the cute story and I listened intently, truly immersed in this boy’s life experiences that were so alien to my own, wanting to know everything about my new kindred spirit and his beloved. I had the nagging feeling that I had never truly LIVED life, just a puppet going through the motions. People like me often got trapped in our bubble, and life’s path loses it’s sense of spontaneity.

He expressed frustration at the fact Stryfe wouldn’t go past second base with him, and I found it comical and, also, commendable in Stryfe’s regards. He vowed they would wait till Peace was nineteen years of age, before they would consummate their love. I asked “why not eighteen?” and Peace replied that, one night he got caught copping a feel and was punished with an additional year of wait. It was absolutely hilarious and I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually had so much fun! His personality was infectious and he had a great ear for detail, I see why many revealed to him their secrets.

I held onto some of the bones in my closet of skeletons, but gave him a little bit of red meat. He confessed to me that he didn’t have many friends, as most in Gen Pop A spoke Portuguese or Spanish as a first language, CO Hernandez had ties with Ramon and the Carlo family so they manipulated and exploited the systems segregationist bias in their favor. The cellblock was almost entirely Hispanic, with a few whites and blacks scattered about to fill the diversity quota.

Peace eventually convinced me to leave our cell for a bit, and after awhile I was able to relax, we had managed to avoid run ins with any of Ramon’s men. I got to finally meet Stryfe, but I don’t think he had the best impression of me. While not openly hostile, he did show a particular displeasure at my presence. I had wandered a little bit away from them to provide some privacy. Looking over the balcony on our floor, I could see several men in a cell two stories down playing dice and cards, a few cells to the left I saw a young guy in his late twenties shooting up tar heroin.

My eyes scanned through the cellblock housing section, it had a circular common area but the cells were in a rectangular corridor. I could see down in the dark end corner, that was where all of ‘os reis homens‘ laid their heads. Ramon’s cell being right in the center, blocked by a sheet stretched across the door. To his right was an empty cell, to the left I could see two nude figures, one large and the other partially obscured but clearly smaller.

After a moment, the larger of the two moved in a position that partially revealed the smaller guys face, I immediately recognized the boy from the bus. His eyes were black and blue, swollen shut. His cheeks wet with freshly shed tears, and his lips split in several places. He looked absolutely horrid, a far cry from the man I had seen only hours ago. I could see Torre had his hand around the poor guy’s neck, he had the guy’s legs spread and he positioned himself between them. You could hear the boys initial sharp harrowing cry of pain, only for the rest to be drowned out by the white noise of the raucous inmates and the deadly grasp of Torre’s hands. The hard merciless thrusts from Torre’s hips, caused the boy’s legs to dangle wildly.

At that moment, The boy’s face turned in my direction, it was as though those swollen shut eyes made direct contact with my own, pleading for help. I was stuck, appalled at the site before me. My own fear incarnate, lived in front of me by another. Torre took notice of the boy’s gaze, turning his head to look up directly at me. The smile that graced his face sent a chills up my spine, he licked his lips, then began to thrust harder into the boy unrelentingly. He wanted to put on a show and I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

I turned back towards my cellie and his man, they seemed to be arguing at this point, well Stryfe was. He was clearly adamant about something and Peace was not backing down, as I got closer I could hear that the subject at hand was me.

“Look, I’m just saying, this motherfucker is not even really one of us, we got no loyalties to that nigga. Hell do we even count that cream cheese punk as one of us?! He white as milk.. A few scoops of cocoa don’t automatically make that shit Nesquik! Plus he rich as a bitch, he don’t know shit about the struggle. Far as I’m concerned his ass is ‘the Man‘ too! You can’t trust’m and they always have someone else take the fall for’m.” His eyes quickly cut to me, finally noticing I was standing there, and he quickly turned back to Peace. “I’m telling you Bae, he ain’t no good to be hangin round.”

“He’s not a bad guy, even if he’s ironically named ‘Jynx’, one thing I do know is, I’m good at reading people, and I like him. Who else am I gonna talk to in this place, just you? Finally another REAL American gets put in Hades and you want me to avoid him? He’s my cellie for Christ’s sake! Look, I love you, but I have to follow my heart on this. I can just tell he’s being genuine and we are gonna be good friends, you just have to deal. Now I’m done arguing about it, you know I don’t like us fighting.”

Stryfe reluctantly gave up protest, cutting a wary eye in my direction. He kissed his love and left to go back to his cell, as it was nearing lights out. I followed Peace back to our bunk, he tried to assure me Stryfe would eventually warm up. About ten minutes later, the lights went out for the night. The noises heard in the dark were the kind nightmares were made of. The manic laughter and wailing cries, kept me awake through the night, allowing me maybe three to four hours of sleep.


We were awakened in the morning, I was told the bell signaled it was time for breakfast and showers. I joined Peace, Stryfe, and a few guys they knew at their usual table. We were seated as far from ‘o Tribunal‘ as one could get, I was thankful for the small blessing. Everyone at the table was pleasant company, but I sorta stayed to myself, as I had the nagging feeling we were being observed.

After breakfast was served, we were shuffled back towards cellblock for everyone to get their daily shower. Gen pop A had a headcount of around five hundred inmates, with B housing just over six, and Ad Seg holding another three hundred.

Controlling Hades hot water supply, Ramon’s men separated the five hundred of us into groups of fifty, giving everyone twenty minutes to wash thoroughly. If you wanted to make do with a cold one, you could skip the line. I was apprehensive to say the least, home schooling saw to it that I had a lack of experience with community showering. After my initial apprehension, I was able to quickly wash the soil and grime from my body.

As I finished up my shower, in walked Torre and the dark olive toned guy that accompanied him the day before. I had found out from Peace they referred to him as ‘o Cavaleiro‘, if Torre was considered ‘os reis enforcer‘ then Cavaleiro was ‘os reis bocal’. Not only was he responsible for carrying messages for the king, He was not unlike the Jay Carney to the Obama White House, providing damage control amongst the populous.

*How was Ramon able to garner such power and influence amongst men such as this? Was he really the worst of all these monsters.* I thought somberly.

Maybe just a small part of me wished he was able to change, but such romantic aspirations were dangerous. Quickly dispersing such thoughts from my mind, I tried to ignore the impressive display of their exposed flesh, one quick glance was enough to satiate any licentious desires. I took the next available mirror and basin to finish up my hygienic ritual. I tried to make haste to prevent any encounters, leaning down one last time to rinse my face with the cool water flowing from the sink. After I pat dry my face, I turned, only to be face to face with Cavaleiro.

He had a deceptively winsome smile upon his face, as he stood there in all his glory, holding his towel over his shoulder. He was still dripping wet and didn’t seem to care, I backed up from him a bit to keep distance. He gave me another appraisal, brazenly grabbing himself in front of me. He was already hung flaccid, but now his hardness displayed something serious. I looked back up into his eyes, to see I had been caught. He grinned, licking his lips lewdly. Uncomfortable with our silent colloquy, I walked past him to leave. He grabbed my arm, preventing departure, pulling me back to face him. I looked up at him frightened of what he might attempt, he began talking to me in a throaty hushed tone that betrayed his carnal desire.

“I see why he wants you, I’m brick as fuck right now just looking at you, but I can’t touch you without permission. Hopefully, O Rei decides to share you like the rest of his bitches.” He pulled me against him, I could feel his hardness pushing it way up between us. “O Rei wanted me to give you a message. He’s giving you two weeks to get your act together. There is no way you are gonna be able to survive in here without his protection, he only requires that you pledge yourself to him mind, body, and soul. If no, you will be ‘exilado como um paria‘ and given ‘estado omega‘ amongst the men, leaving you open for use and abuse by all. Hell even ‘O Reis putas‘ can have a crack at that ass. Do you really want that? O Rei says two weeks, but I know him, he won’t be able to last that long. Especially with you prancing that prime pussy around in everyone’s face right in front of him. You think he don’t see you? He always has eyes on you even when you sleep! He got it bad for you like he is sick, doente.. e uma loucura!”

“I don’t care about his threats, he doesn’t scare me anymore.” I said defiantly, not sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

“Oh, please believe, those are not threats, they are promises. He will have no choice, That is the order of the code.”

“FUCK the code! I don’t live by that bullshit.”

With that said, I shook my arm from his grasp and stormed from the room, back to my cell. I found Peace and Stryfe cuddled up in the top bunk taking a nap, anyone could see they complimented each other nicely. Their two ebony bodies entwined under a thin blanket. I picked up two jumpers from the floor, one orange and the other sky blue. Stryfe had earned his orange jumper three months ago, he had killed another inmate that tried to put hands on Peace during a shower. The guy pulled out a shank, Stryfe showed him how to use it.

He spent a month in the SHU and everyone got the hint, don’t fuck with Peace. He didn’t even like when me and Peace casually touched each other in our platonic displays of friendly affection. Peace had become someone I truly care for, I vowed then to have Yurika devote staff to taking a second look at his case. I laid down to take a nap before they let out to the yard, I had barely laid my head on the pillow when I heard screams and a sickening crack. Peace popped his head over the edge of his bed to peer down at me, a look of relief flashed his face.

“Oh thank god! I was worried.. Go see what’s happening out there!”

I nodded, hopping out of bed to see what the commotion was. I let out a gasp, abhorred at what I was witnessing. I was preparing myself for many things when I came to prison, but this was too much.. Hanging by a noose made of sheets was the boy from the bus, his face almost unrecognizable due to the bruising and lacerations. His neck lay limp, twisting at an odd angle. I watched as they called for CO Hernandez, after a few moments she arrived with Special tactical units. She ordered them to bring him down, making her way over to Ramon. They had words and laughed, you’d think it was casual visit, with the way they carried on. I caught her discreetly slip a package to Pandora who was standing to the side of Ramon. Suddenly, they all looked up, directly at me, I would have gotten caught but I instinctively diverted my gaze before detection.

As they were removing the body, I couldn’t help but think of earlier that day, when I saw him in need of help. But what could I do?

Hell… Why did I even care? I never felt sympathy or compassion for many strangers before, why now, under these circumstances? That boy was gone now and no one gave a damn.

I could see Muhg making her way to leave, she knocked over a chessboard that two guys were playing on, laughing sadistically. I felt eyes on me again, scanning around, I didn’t see Ramon or Pandora. An inner voice told me to look straight ahead at the cells across from me, there I met the malevolent eyes of Torre. He smiled, proud of his handy work, I already knew his twisted game. He liked, not only to break his victims, but to relish in the destruction of their will to live. He licked his lips slightly, never taking those cold calculating eyes off of me.

I turned away, retreating back to my cell. Peace had a million and one questions ready for me, but held his tongue once he saw my face. I think he already could guess what happened. Suicide was a common escape from the clutches of ‘O Rei e os seus homens‘ he cautioned me. I threw myself on the bed, hoping sleep would reprieve me of this nightmarish reality.

That would prove too much to ask, my sleep was plagued with clipped images of my grandmother Cassandra, Ramon, and an owl accompanied by a hawk preying upon a singing nightingale.


I was awoken by the buzzing bell that signaled it was REC time, the herding prisoners resembling cattle being put to pasture. I stuck close to Peace because I didn’t know the etiquette of the prison yard, despite certain inherent similarities, this place alway proved itself spontaneously antipodean to the status quo of society on the outside. I never knew how to react, just trying to stay under the radar as much as possible, given Ramon’s pharaonic public displays. As one would expect, the yard was territorially segregated along racial lines.

On the left side of the yard, where the basket ball court was located, looked to be where the blacks congregated. They made up the 2nd largest group in Hades, even though their numbers were still dwarfed by the Hispanic coalition. Holding down the bleacher section to the right of the yard were the White’s consisting of those non affiliated, the pedophile outcast’s, and the Aryan Nation. Though they made up one of the smallest percentage of the entire prisons population, they had immeasurable influence from the outside. Their numbers were even smaller than the Asian syndicate, who were the most lethal conglomerate of individuals assembled in Mythos. The Asian inmates were kept on B side in Purgatory, it seems they didn’t factor into Muhg and Ramon’s plans for dominion.

Taking position in the center, was all who were affiliated with ‘Corte dos Reis‘. One could clearly see the more relevance you held, the closer they were to the inner circle. The seating arrangements always seemed to be carefully orchestrated, everyone orbiting Ramon defensively, almost as if there was a chess match in play.

Pandora was always directly to his left, maintaining the inner ring. The dusky bronze Cavaleiro was always at a slight distance away to Ramon’s right, with several pawns in between whom were needed but disposable. After learning the aliases of the upper ranks of ‘a Corte do Rei‘, I kind of assumed the last member was given the moniker ‘Obispo‘.

He was clearly Ramon’s beta, covering the most distance outside the circle. From my observances, he seemed to be a bill collector of sorts and a drug dealer. I had witnessed him on many occasions hit someone up for payment right there in front everyone to make a statement. Passing judgement indiscriminately among the mass of inmates at their disposal. It was a site to see, Ramon finally at the helm of his own empire, clearly not the one he had planned for but one none the less, I see no reason why he would covet me so. Pandora was exceptionally attractive, I’ve seen hundreds of models not half as beautiful. The position of ‘a Rainha‘, already had its prime candidate, I surely wasn’t needed.

Being who I was, often left me in a place of racial limbo because of the ambiguity of my heritage, most discrediting me the ‘Black’ experience based on the element of my complexion alone, others factored in my upbringing and fortune. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the A side yard. If it wasn’t for Peace and his connection to Stryfe, I wouldn’t be able to find sanctuary in the Black part of the yard. The brotha’s that occupied the area were black supremacists of sorts, my racial identity only fueled the fires of their cause, as misguided as it was. That left me exiled to the outskirts of the courts, Peace kept me company thou, further explaining yard etiquette.

We sat and watched the scene before us, the many drug deals and indiscretions going on we’re unfathomable. Near the end of yard time, a bus pulled up to the front entrance, it was prisoner transport. As far as I knew fish were only brought in at the beginning of the month, I had only been here a few days now, even though it felt like eons had passed. The front doors to the Admin building burst open, out marched the Special Forces unit.

At this point the full attention of both yards, it seemed, were on the new arrival. Four guards exited the bus first, they were fully armed and clothed in TAC (Tactical Assault & Combat) gear. Coming out behind them was a butter pecan colored guy, he had this great big bush of unruly coarse hair atop his head, giving him a wild look. Danger and sex radiated from his pores, it didn’t help he wore an orange jump suit before even stepping foot in the building.

“DaaaaaYuum! He sexy as fuck or am I trippin? chile who dis?” Peace rang out comically, swiping an imaginary bang from his eyes.

“What chu said Bae?!” Stryfe called out from the distance, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I said ‘Damn, look at all them POPO’, Hun. And don’t worry bout what we doing over here, stick to ya little ball game, ok boo?!” Stryfe just shook his head, and we burst out into another round of laughter.

About ten minutes after they escorted the new arrival into the Admin building to be processed, the guards were signaling yard time was over. Everyone made their way in, not wasting any time. Peace and I had finally made it back to our bunks, only to see we had a new neighbor. The former occupant had the whole cell to himself, but now had moved out after learning of his new cellmate.

This guy seemed to have quite the reputation within the prison circuit. Up close there was no denying the raw sexuality that dripped off of this dude, he embodied a feral masculinity that gave him the presence of a beast twice his size. He had removed the top portion of his jumper to reveal his creamy buttery pecan brown complexion, it was marked by so many scars and tattoos that it was almost hard to tell one from the other. They created a unique tribal pattern across his athletic and toned body, each muscle looking as if it were carved from stone.

He turned, finally noticing us, a scowl crossing his handsome youthful face. I guessed that he was probably in his early twenties, even though he gave off the vibe of someone older. He was clearly Black, but it looked as if he was of mixed heritage, one could never really know these days with Black’s of the Americas anyways. At that moment, I happen to look in his eyes, only to be immediately stunned.

*Those eyes..*

The color of golden honey and burning amber, I recognized the blazing wildfire held within them. It was the man with the red mask in my dream, there was no mistake. He gave me a look that told me he was fed up and annoyed by my incessant staring, but I couldn’t find the will to divert my gaze. Was I suffering delusion as my grandmother Cassandra had? Was dementia setting in prematurely?

“Yo! What the fuck yo faggot ass staring at.. the fuck?! Do I have to evict yo ass too, punk bitch?” He asked, as he approached me, looking ready to attack.

He got close enough for me to feel the heat emitting from his body, but the a blow never came. We stood there for a moment, eye to eye, chest to chest. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, that raging fire from before now stifled, merely simmering.

“Look, just stay the fuck out my way B and we won’t have no problems..”

After he said that, he turned back around to enter his cell, like nothing ever happened. I watched him up until he laid down and closed his eyes, then returned to my own cell. Peace was there waiting for me wanting to know what the deal was, I had nothing to reveal. Truthfully, I had no idea who this guy was or why he was present in my dreams, but I had to find out. What exactly did all of this mean and where did I fit into it all? Fathers money couldn’t be the only driving force behind this, there had to be more. Like missing pieces to a puzzle that had no clear picture of reference to start with.

If only I had believed my Grandmother when she succumbed to her spontaneous schizophrenic fits, warning me of future trials and tribulations. Her moniker proved to be foreboding, as she embodied the tragic grecian story of the mythic Cassandra, the second most beautiful earthly mortal behind Helen of Troy. Cursed with the the ability of precognition, only to have her prophetic words fall to deaf ears until it was too late.

While her gifts sacrificed her waking hours to give her precognitive messages, it seems mine plagued me during my hours of slumber. I wasn’t a man who believed in fate, nor destiny, believing that one caused and effected their own path to future events. With that said, I couldn’t deny evidence of the contrary. The circular pattern and long hallways of the cellblock recalled the elements within my dream, the resurgence of Ramon, the chains, the indecipherable wailing in the darkness, all topped off with the arrival of this new inmate with the fiery amber eyes and unruly locks.

I could be ignorant of the signs no longer, grandmother had tried to caution and prepare me for what I was to face ahead. I had to recollect doltishly ignored lessons from my youth, while taking heed of my sporadic premonitory visions. I only had a week and some change before Ramon would come knocking, looking for an answer I dreaded to give, so I had to figure out my options, if I had any at all.

My very life depended on it…

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Sir Tiggy of Smalls says:

    So………..I may have gone to listen to that song by Emeli Sande…and got lost in my head, listening to music.

    I like Peace. He reminds me of myself. Is that arrogance or relating to a character? haha

    A year ago…..I would have been disappointed in Jynx. However, like trying to get someone out of an abusive situation…they could turn and channel their anger towards you.

    Who is to say the boy being devastated by Torre…wouldn’t have had that “I don’t need your pity! I am fine. I can handle it!” reaction if Jynx tried to come to his aid?

    As thrilling as this story is, it makes me so appreciative of my freedom!!!

    Guy with the red mask from his dream…is interesting. The whole “we won’t have no problems”…something in him softened. I am not going to rush and say that he is gay…I just think…instead of lust, animosity or what most of the other inmates were projecting, he saw genuine curiosity in Jynx.

    I am so excited that his dreams are manifesting. Okay…well, it would be horrific in real life, but as a reader, it delights me. Let the ominous foreshadowing begin!

    I hope Peace sticks around.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sir Tiggy of Smalls says:

      Emeli is what her parents were thinking of calling her, but decided on Emile. I totally didn’t misspell it in my excited haste.

      Liked by 1 person

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