Reader is an average girl trying to return to her home after working overnight. But her walk was interrupted by a plead of help and she ends up saving a woman from being assulted.
This event somehow leads to her killing people with bare hands, getti...
The chains around your feet keep on making the same, rusty sound in each step you make inside the hall of HRP. Thankfully, regardless to the fact that you might never have your freedom ever again, the prison's clothes are white.
Maybe they done it on purpose? After all, most mentally-ill murderers love the color white. It let you see the stain of your victim's bloods wonderfully. And you also look badass in white.
After a seemingly-long walk down the empty hall, passing by numerous steel doors with a number label in each of them, you arrived at door #13
"We are here." The black-haired guy spoke up, the gas-mask he and the rest of the guards wearing competely covers their entire face. You only know he's a guy from the masculine voice.
Maybe there's a control panel, but the steel door suddenly slides open to the left automatically. You whistled, "Fancy."
"From here, your restriction will be erased and you'll be able to wander around without a guard nor chains on you."
Before you could questions the odd prison system, - because what the hell? This is supposed to be where the most dangerous criminals go and they just let their prisoners goes around like they aren't capable of exploding the wall or something? - he pushed you inside and the door shut closed in a matter of second.
Again, what the hell?
"Damn bastards." You groaned, only to be startled by the sound click from the cuffs on both your hands and your legs. And like the guard said, you are released.
Third time, what the hell?
You look around the room. White will be the best word to describe the entire room. There's a bedroom, a table with a matching wooden chair, an open door revealing a tiny bathroom, a closet...
...you give up trying to understand how this prison work and simply accept the reality as it is. You head towards the closet and-
-how did they get all of your personal clothes?!
You slowly backs away, close it, and mentally reminds yourself not to question the logic of this prison. Or rather, the lack of it. You decided to check on the piece of note sticking on the table. You pointedly ignores the pen.
Dear, Miss (L/N)
Being welcomed into a life-sentence prison might not be what you want to receive, but we would like to welcome you anyway. For this prison's mysterious reputation is not just for the show. We would like to inform you, to write down whatever kind of entertainment you'd like to keep you from planning an escape from HRP.
Being bold, Warden of HRP.
...grabbing the pen, you flipped the note over and writes down.
You wake up the next morning to a chriping sound over the speaker placed on the corner of the ceiling. A rather loud sound.
"Attention residence of HRP! This is your announcer speaking to announce you that the door will be open for the next 20 minutes. Breakfast will be served as usual in the canteen. Good day!"
Not even bothering to react to that announcment, you grab a towel from inside the closet, strip yourself naked, and grab a quick shower. Your stomatch keeps on grumbling for foods, and you quicken your movement.
A jacket over your torso and you exited the room, the door sliding open in-
"GOOD MORNING NEW FRIEND!"
You punched in reflex whoever was shouting in front of you.
"Ooow..." a pale figure grumbled from his kneeling position. He looked up and I...
...why does this prison even allow us to wear any clothes we want? This guy looks like a clown gone wrong. His nose is long, like, really long; and have stripes too! What is happening to your life?
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"Is that how you greet people?" He asked, a whine in his tone.
"Is that how you greet people?" You retort back, still eyeing his odd appearance.
"Of horse! I mean, heh, of course!" He waved his hands in a dismissing gesture, "Anyway! I'm the Laughing Jack! You know, I killed children and tortured them to death and stuff."
"And stuff." You deadpan, but carries on, "Well I'm, urm, I don't have any kind of killer title like yours."
"No? Too bad! Well, what about your real name then?"
With your eyebrow raised, you asked, "Why should I tell you? You didn't tell me your full name either."
His grin turned sharp, and he narrow his eyes mimicking a predator, "Just tell me..." He said- no, orders. To be honest, his suddenly-deep voice doesn't waver you, its actually sounds sexy...
...sigh. Oh, how far you have fallen.
"It's (Full Name). Calls me (Y/N)."
At that, he switch back into his child-like attitude like a bipolar he probably is, "There you go! No harm comes, right?" Right. "Well, (Y/N), my real name is Jack-in-the-Box. Believe it or not, I was made. Not born."
"I believe it, don't worry." Compared to the weirdly-arousing voice in your head, Jack's story sounds normal. To you, anyway.
"But then the media start calling me the Laughing Jack, which honestly, fits perfectly to me! So calls me LJ. And calling me Jack will confused the other Jack in this prison." He explains.
"Well, LJ. Care to be my tour guide and show me the way to the canteen?"
He beamed, "Gladly!" And the two of you start walking side-by-side when he start chattering again,
"Honestly! The other boys doesn't even stop by to say hello to you! Rude! All of them!" He huffed, crossing his arms in a way that makes him look more adorable then intimidating.
How did he even able to look cute with his creepy clown look on? You start to continue to question the logic of this place and its people.
"What about the girls?"
"What girls?"
You froze in place. And slowly glance towards the smirking pale face of LJ, "So you're saying..."
"Yup! You are indeed, the only, and the first female to ever enter HRP!"
