Smoke & Gasoline

Death Sentence

*SLIGHT GORE WARNING*

All the days seem to blur together when your in prison. They never took Ethan back to the cafeteria after the whole stabbing incident, but he would rather be alone than around those scumbags anyways. He would only continue to get more beatings if he was around the other inmates anyway, right now he is really short tempered. Like worse than usual.

He hasn't been in this state of mind in years, and it's dangerous to be around him like this. He feels jittery, like he had way to many espresso shots and can't sit still. One of the guards came in this morning to drop off breakfast, and Ethan wanted to wrip the man's throat out with his teeth just because the man disturbed him. He wants to taste metal in his mouth and watch as the crimsine liquid gushes out like a flood.

He craves it.

Ethan is slowly starting to lose his mind in here.

He hasn't felt anything since Grayson died. But he always feels something when he takes someone's life. It gets your adrenaline pumping. It is almost like all of your senses are on high alert.

But Ethan knows even if he did kill someone, he still wouldn't feel a single thing. He is numb.

God, he would do anything for some cocaine right now.

At least he has his pack of cigarettes left. Reaching under his mattress, Ethan pulls out the box of camels to see there is only one left, how ironic. Grabbing the lighter stored under his pillow, he flicks the cap off and lights it, bringing his cigarette to life. Holding the stick between his pointer and middle finger, he places it between his lips and takes a long drag, the familiar feeling of smoke in his lungs instantly relaxes Ethan as he plops down onto his bed, it squeaks with his weight.

"Knock knock, open up hot stuff." Missy's deep voice rings through the metal door before she lets herself in. She is wearing her usual navy blue guard uniform, it's tight on her body hugging her curves. Her thick black curls are up in a ponytail today and she has her red lipstick on her lips like she does everyday Ethan sees her.

Missy is by far the best person in this hellhole. She is a security guard, but she isn't like all the other stupid ass security guards here. She actually cares about the lowlifes in here, but only if you respect her and treat her good. Missy was one of the main reasons Ethan had escaped last time, and he was surprised when he had first seen her when he got arrested the second time. He had thought for sure she would have been caught and got fired.

"Hey, Missy." Ethan grumbles, moving his eyes back at the blank wall in front of him. It's not that he isn't happy to see her, well he kind of isn't to be honest. But he still is in a mood and really wants to wrap his hands around someones neck till they stop breathing, and it's not going to be Missy.

She has a tray of food in her hands, with her foot she closes the door behind her and lets herself in sitting at the foot of Ethan's bed. "Eat up honey, you are eating like a king for lunch." Her thick deep New York accent chirps in the room, she slides the tray closer to Ethan who sits up and tosses his cigarette on the floor. Missy rubs her boot over it to put it out for him.

"Well, it is the last meal I'll ever have." Ethan snorts dryly. His eyes roam the tray, and for once the food here actually looks edible. There is steak, a baked potato, and a roll with a glass of champagne. Ethan grabs the glass and starts to drink it all down, trying to ignore Missy when she elbows him in the arm nearly making him spill.