Through the valley of death

F

Freyja

Guest
Original poster
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RULES:
-We're discarding your human rights.
-Just because it's easy, both genders are in this prison
-YOU ARE A HARDENED,[PSYCHO,] MATURE CRIMINAL, ACT LIKE IT!
Have fun <3
-No godmodding.
Don't be afraid to show raping some of the previous guards, slaughter NPC-weaklings and don't hold back on the bloody details!​
 
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The low sun shone it's light through the bars of Charlotte's prison indicting it wasn't even 7 in the morning, yet still the sound of gunshots and fighting was heard. There had been attempts to overthrow the guards before, but those were shot down. Literally, since the guards here carried heavier equipment than the typical cops you see patrolling the street and faced a heavier training. Especially with the previous rallies the equipment was akin to a soldiers gear, not that Charlotte blamed them after seeing what kind of prisoners this place holds. Charlotte may not be completely sane, but compared to some bastards she was reasonable. Actually the whole fact that her prison wasn't opened might have saved her from one hell of a trouble. It could be because women get judged less harsh in court, or because they usually commit smaller crimes, but for some reason there are less women in the prison. Not that Charlotte missed them, honestly she hated women, but since rapists get housed here too she would have liked it if there were some other weaker women.
Survival of the fittest you know?

With the prison cells still shut she could still keep lying down for a bit, but soon enough the sirens went of and the red lights spun in the ceiling of the hallway, indicating the button had been pushed. Rats. Charlotte jumped out of bed and looked around her cell. The cells were small ,about the size of a king size bed and contained only a bed, a fold-out table platform, a sink and a toilet. The walls were a sturdy concrete, but the front was only a metal fence. Usually the rebels never managed to open the gate like that. She crawled beneath her bed as she saw the door slide open.
 
Derandolph was awakened by the sound of his gate opening. He'd heard rumors of a riot before, even heard that a group of skinheads were planning on taking the prison. But he had not heard, however, that it would be this early in the morning. His cell mate, a tall lanky fellow with a tattoo of a young girl on his right arm, stood up and peeked beyond the wall of the cell.

"Gizzer! It's open! We can go!" Waylon, his bunk buddy, said excitedly. Derandolph hopped out of his bed, the top bunk, and stood next to him. He was right. The walkway was packed with escaping prisoners. Some jumped over the second-floor railing of the walkway to the first floor, some began fighting, some snuck back into their cells, unsure of what to do.

"C'mon. This is our big break. I know a way outta here!" Waylon shouted above the noise of the crowd. The tall man climbed over the railing and hopped down smoothly. "Let's go, man. I ain't got all day!" he yelled up to his buddy. Gizzer followed his lead and jumped down to the ground beside him. The two ran toward the cafeteria, past a couple smack-downs and knocked out prisoners.

They made it to the the café's double doors quickly. Derandolph pulled one of the handles, pissed off to find that it was locked. "It's okay, man. The vents." Waylon said, pointing upward to the large vent that sat above the café entry. Gizzer looked at it skeptically, but hoisted his friend up to it anyways. Waylon had the grate off in less than a minute, and soon the two were crawling through the enclosed space, looking for a way out.
 
Matthew awoke to the sound of chaos and fighting, and he lifted himself from his bed. His eyes took a short while to adjust to the flashing red lights and he rubbed them to speed up the process. When he had finally collected a sense of awareness, he got up on his feet and moved towards the battered old wardrobe which he had been given. His roommate, if you could call her that, was sitting on the corner of her bed, fully dressed, with her arms wrapped around her legs and her eyes wide open. She smiled when she spotted that Matthew was awake, and he returned the gesture, but he frowned when he realised the wardrobe was empty, minus a jacket and a pair of jeans. He frowned, and then slowly turned back to her.

"Naomi, where are the clothes?" he demanded, as a gunshot exploded somewhere outside the room.

Naomi stood up and moved slowly towards the other end of the bed, pulling out two heavy rucksacks. For a woman, Naomi was quite strong and slender, and she had a naturally beautiful yet rough face. Her hair was tied neatly into a mid-height ponytail and she had a pair of headphones connected to an old MP3 player buried in her ears. She passed one of the large rucksacks to Matthew, who opened it up to see it was filled with food and other useful resources, and she opened up the second to show that it consisted of clothes. Matthew frowned once more.

"What is this?" he asked, as she zipped up the rucksack and put it on.

"We're breaking out of here," Naomi grinned, walking towards the barred door and pushing it open. "I thought it would be wise to prepare for this."

Matthew smirked, pleased with Naomi's quick-thinking, and after pulling the pair of jeans off its hanger, he approached the tall woman and planted a long, hard kiss on her lips. Naomi smiled as he pulled away and went to put on his jeans, then his jacket, before following her out of the cell and into the commotion.