Page 1
Story: Devotion
PROLOGUE: CIRO
“Run leetlemysh! We catch you soon enough, rat!”
“Eat shit, comrade!” I yelp over my shoulder, taking a hard left.
“You really know how to make friends, Diamante!” Matvey startles me as he slides around the corner right behind me from another direction. Guy knows this place better than he should for our first day in kindergarten.
He’s really cool, though. I think we’ll be BFFs.
“I caught your eye, didn’t I?”
“You used me for body shield when you kicked Crovak in the balls and ran, shitbox!”
“Shitbox? I really need to teach you better insults.”
“I can think of better in Russian!”
“Speaking of which, less talking, more rushin’!” I speed up my pace as the clatter of footfalls increases behind us.
Definitely don’t want to get caught by those guys.
Or the other guys.
Or the other other guys.
Guess it’s not true what they say about your first day in the slammer. Donotpick the biggest, scariest monster and try to make him your bitch.
At least not a monster with a shit ton of buddies.
To be fair, every single inmate in this place is as scary as the next.
Or maybe things are just different in Mother Russia.
“Right!”
“I know I am?—”
“No! Turn right!” Matvey shoves me mid-run, almost barreling me into the wall. Instead, we veer into a cul-de-sac in the walkway, a small semicircle of not-quite-a-room.
I skid to a halt, glancing around for our way out.
“The fuck, Matty?! This is a dead end. And that’s absolutely not a figure of speech when they catch us.”
The broad, tall, kinda unreasonably good-looking brunet gives me a look, cocking his head and raising one eyebrow. Somehow, it’s hella familiar.
But that’s hardly relevant at the moment.
I shrug as the echoes round the nearest bend in the cinderblock halls of our hell away from home.
Matvey kicks the ground beneath us, resonating in a dull, metallic thunk.
“We go down,” he drolls.
“Propositioning me? As much as I love a good BJ, I’d rather not. We haven’t even gotten to know each other very well yet!”
“You need lesson in humor too.” Shaking his head, he kicks the metal hatch open, revealing a dark hole and a ladder. But like a fucking nutcase, he steps over the hole and drops out of sight.
“Fu-fu-fuuuuck!” I hiss, wringing my hands.
“Run leetlemysh! We catch you soon enough, rat!”
“Eat shit, comrade!” I yelp over my shoulder, taking a hard left.
“You really know how to make friends, Diamante!” Matvey startles me as he slides around the corner right behind me from another direction. Guy knows this place better than he should for our first day in kindergarten.
He’s really cool, though. I think we’ll be BFFs.
“I caught your eye, didn’t I?”
“You used me for body shield when you kicked Crovak in the balls and ran, shitbox!”
“Shitbox? I really need to teach you better insults.”
“I can think of better in Russian!”
“Speaking of which, less talking, more rushin’!” I speed up my pace as the clatter of footfalls increases behind us.
Definitely don’t want to get caught by those guys.
Or the other guys.
Or the other other guys.
Guess it’s not true what they say about your first day in the slammer. Donotpick the biggest, scariest monster and try to make him your bitch.
At least not a monster with a shit ton of buddies.
To be fair, every single inmate in this place is as scary as the next.
Or maybe things are just different in Mother Russia.
“Right!”
“I know I am?—”
“No! Turn right!” Matvey shoves me mid-run, almost barreling me into the wall. Instead, we veer into a cul-de-sac in the walkway, a small semicircle of not-quite-a-room.
I skid to a halt, glancing around for our way out.
“The fuck, Matty?! This is a dead end. And that’s absolutely not a figure of speech when they catch us.”
The broad, tall, kinda unreasonably good-looking brunet gives me a look, cocking his head and raising one eyebrow. Somehow, it’s hella familiar.
But that’s hardly relevant at the moment.
I shrug as the echoes round the nearest bend in the cinderblock halls of our hell away from home.
Matvey kicks the ground beneath us, resonating in a dull, metallic thunk.
“We go down,” he drolls.
“Propositioning me? As much as I love a good BJ, I’d rather not. We haven’t even gotten to know each other very well yet!”
“You need lesson in humor too.” Shaking his head, he kicks the metal hatch open, revealing a dark hole and a ladder. But like a fucking nutcase, he steps over the hole and drops out of sight.
“Fu-fu-fuuuuck!” I hiss, wringing my hands.
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