“Do I get the privilege of knowing what I supposedly did that was against the law with my witch magic?” I asked.
He set his tablet down and shook his head. “You took longer to wake up than I hoped, so maybe another day. I have business to attend to now, but I wanted to formally introduce myself to you.” He stood, and the smile he gave me was soon replaced with a sneer. “My name is Warden Gillian. I’ve yet to have a prisoner escape these walls, and you will not be the first. So, don’t get any ideas. Follow the rules and maybe you’ll survive longer than the first week. I’ll find time to meet with you soon, and we can discuss your role here in Mandora.”
Dude had some serious personality issues and some stank breath. It took every ounce of control within me to stop my mouth from asking him if he had a mint.
He leaned in closer, but I didn’t budge as I held my own breath to avoid his stench. He was trying to scare me, and it wasn’t going to work, at least not that he would know. I’d risen from the ashes before and I’d figure things out soon enough, so I could get the hell out of prison the right way. Threats of what would happen if I tried to escape were meaningless to me, because I wasn’t guilty.
“Do I make myself clear, Witch?”
“Crystal, Warden.”
He nodded curtly before stomping toward the door. I heard the creak of hinges once again, but he stopped moving. His breathing was loud, and I felt his eyes boring into the back of my head. “Guards, finish processing the witch and take her to cell block B.”
“Block B? Are you sure, Warden?” a man questioned.
A low rumble was heard, followed by a yelp before the warden spoke again. “If you value your life, I’d ask less questions the next time I require your presence.”
Footsteps thudded along the floor before two more sets came into the office. My shoulders squared, and I removed all emotion from my face. Until I figured out a way to prove whatever charges they thought they had against me were false, I wasn’t going to let anyone see me weak.
“Inmate 46764 release,” a dude that reminded me of Shrek due to his girth and height said. The shackles around my wrists disappeared, but the mesh bags around my hands did not.
“Are these coming off as well?” I asked as another Shrek came into view.
Shrek One grunted. “Not until you’re in the cell area. Magic is restricted for all inmates.”
Great, not only would I be the low woman on the totem pole, but what little magic I did have wouldn’t even be there to protect me. The lucky streak I’d been thinking about earlier was becoming a thing of the past, because this entire situation seemed like some extremely crap luck.
I’d been scrappy enough to get by after I was orphaned and placed in a group home for the supernatural youth, but I wasn’t sure those particular skills were going to be enough in a place like Mandora. I’d have to find the biggest chick in the cell block and make her my best friend.
Each guard grabbed one of my arms, yanking me up and over the chair so fast that it toppled onto the floor. Shrek One and Two continued into the hall while I was still being held facing the warden’s office. Glancing around as much as I could to try to get the layout of where I was, I realized there wasn’t much to see.
The walls had no windows or pictures and were made up of grey cinder blocks, making me feel a bit like a caged animal. About fifty or so feet down the hall, words were spray-painted in black on the wall with arrows that gave directions to cell blocks A, B, and C. We turned right and headed for B just like the warden had commanded.
My mind idly wondered what was in B that had made one of the Shreks question Warden Gillian. Was I being placed with the worst of the worst?
Did the warden want me to die? Possibly.
I’d heard enough stories about Mandora to know I would have to watch my back and make friends fast. Those few stories about the prison weren’t from past inmates, either. Most of them were from their family members left behind.
Considering my upbringing as an orphan, I wasn’t the most knowledgeable supernatural, but I knew enough to get me by in the quiet life I had been slowly building for myself. Witches were what I understood the best, but when it came to the other races, I was slim on facts. Hopefully, that wasn’t about to bite me in the ass.
With a couple of clicks and then a beep, I heard the grinding noise of a gate opening. Once the metal clanged against the concrete wall, the guards continued to move, and I got a front row seat of the entrance slamming shut behind me.
If I’d had any thought of escaping, it went out the window as the gate locked into place. There would be no leaving this place until I could get Warden Gillian to tell me what exactly I was being accused of and hopefully be given the chance to prove him wrong.
Suddenly, the air was ripped from my chest as I was tossed into the corner of a room, followed by clothes being thrown at my head.
“Strip, dress, and make it fast,” Shrek One demanded.
Scrambling to my feet, I held my head high, pretending the wall hadn’t bruised half my body when I’d been slammed against it. “Uh, I’m not sure if you need glasses or not, but I can’t exactly remove my clothes with these on.” My arms lifted to remind the two idiots my hands were still covered in the mesh magic-stopper bags. They probably had an official name, but I wasn’t about to ask what that was.
Shrek One moved in closer and raised his hand to strike me, but Shrek Two stopped him. “Remember what we need to do, Brent.”
Shrek One, also known as Brent, threw his hands in the air. “You take care of her, then. I don’t have time for this shit.” He gave me an “accidental” shove on his way back out of the room, and I was once again on my ass.
When I was alone with Shrek Two, who hadn’t said a word before he stopped me from getting my first beating inside the prison, I wondered if he would maybe be my friend. Though, I didn’t have to think on it too long before I got my answer.
He bent over and gripped the back of my neck, taking a fistful of my hair with him as he stood me up. “Hands out, Inmate 46764.”
My arms shot out like rockets as I fought back tears from the pain in the back of my head. I was acting as tough as I could, but damn, my head couldn’t take much more.
Thankfully, he had to release his hold in order to get the mesh bags off my hands, and I took a step to the side before he thought about grabbing on again. I wasn’t a damn horse with hair for reins.
“There. Now, do as Brent said, and then it’s time for you to meet your cellmate.” He took three steps back and stared.
“Do I get a minute of privacy to change?” I spat, still angry he’d taken a chunk of my hair out that now lay on the floor.
“No, and unless you’d like a real audience, I suggest you do as your told right now.”
Yep. Shrek Two was definitely not going to be my friend.
I untangled the clothes from the ground that had been thrown at me and sorted them out before I decided to remove my own. There was an awful yellow jumpsuit that was going to be way too long for me, a pair of granny panties, and some slip-on flats.
That was it. No bra. No socks. Just two items of hideous clothing and the thinnest shoes I’d ever seen.
My poor girls weren’t going to be happy about having no support, but hopefully I’d make friends who’d give me some pointers on how to make the best of the crappy attire. Women were resourceful like that.