Talking to The Elements

||01|| My Introduction to Prison

"Ninth floor!" he growls, not waiting for a response before settling behind us and shoving a hand into the middle of our backs. Kylie stumbles but starts forwards. I take a second to wince, one of the cuts lining my skin opening at the guard's contact.

I glare at him, but he ignores me. I follow Kylie, hating the fear and weakness suddenly coursing through my blood as I walk past the hollering inmates. I don't know if I'm afraid of them, or the fact I'm considered one of them.

A slight discolouration in the wall opens with scratch mark's fingerprint, revealing a stone staircase. Fire-lit torches illuminate the way up, and a memory flickers in front of my mind. I grapple for it, but it's too far for me to reach, and all I get is the familiarity of warmth on my skin.

"West!" scratch marks barks, and one of the rose soldier's strides forward, face blank and knuckles white against his handgun. "Take them to ninth, then come down to prepare for their re-entry!"

The guard nods, and like his leader, shoves his gun into my back. This time, I keep my wince hidden, but my glare is harsher. West raises a brow, head tilting a little before he schools his expression and makes Kylie and I walk.

The two of us glance at each other before looking down at our chains and then the stairs. How the hell are we supposed to walk up them with our ankles bound?

"Find a way, girls," West's voice is surprisingly deep for his boy-ish features. And whatever sympathy I thought I saw when he shoved me has disappeared, replaced with arrogant superiority.

I swallow thickly, my fear turning into fury, as red-hot and volcanic as the fire beside me. Kylie goes first, the two of us half-hopping, half-shuffling up the stairs, using the walls as a banister when we can.

West makes a point to stab me in the back every couple of minutes. With each one, a cut opens and anger begins replacing the oxygen in my veins.

Just as I threaten to snap, Kylie slaps my arm, her eyes stuck on door at the end of the staircase. It has a large 9 on it, and under the bold black paint there's a small note, last level.

"I'll see you soon, girls," West smirks, winking slyly. "The Colonel will have a good go at you before sending you back to us, but I think the time apart will make our reunion more worthwhile; don't you agree?"

Kylie gulps audibly, and in a split-second I have my hand on the butt of West's gun, pushing it back to hit him on the forehead. He rears back, shock and outrage flashing through his eyes. I blow him a kiss and shove Kylie onto the ninth floor, kicking the door closed behind me.

I can imagine the rose guard cursing me out, touching a finger to his bloody skin and cursing some more. My satisfaction doesn't last long, my best-friend's firm grip on my wrist gaining my attention. I grumble, only to shut up at the couple dozen guns pointed our way.

Instinctively, I put my hands up, but the chains make it hard, and I'm stuck in an awkward in-between pose that has my biceps cramping.

"Stand down!"

The voice is tough, monotoned and dominant. It makes me hate the owner of it, something in my gut hissing as a man in his early fifties emerges from the middle of the gun mosh-pit. I've managed to keep my issues with authority in control, but something tells me this guy is going to unravel all my hard work.

He's tall, with a military uniform sticking to his large shoulders and protruding hips. Like everyone else, a gun rests over his chest. Unlike everyone else, he's got the I'm in charge and you'll do as I say! vibe shooting from every pore. The Colonel.

"Scarlett," he inclines his head my way, dark brown eyes piercing through my skin. "And Kylie, I presume?"

It's silent for a while, and I can't help myself. I turn to Kylie, making sure the sarcasm is highly detectable when I ask, "Are we supposed to answer? He already knows who we are, it seems irrelevant to introduce ourselves."