Page 7
Story: Devotion
Not a fate I’m looking to have thrown at me.
So, I put on a hell of a show atLedyanoy AdPrison. Fitting. “Frozen Hell” pretty much sums it up.
And now, I’ve got an encore waiting for me on the other side of those walls. A score to settle with Dom Vipera if I ever get the chance, and more immediately, some very choice words for a certain sexy Russian Mafia woman and her blond, flattopped cohort.
The two who put me here.
Both members of the Volk Bratva. The biggest sect of the mob that runs half the country. The ports. The nightclubs.
They caught me snooping around on my family’s orders and decided to see what I was made of. Or see me eliminated by this shithole’s inmates.
So far, all Matvey’s shared about them is that they are not to be messed with. That he knows them from rumors and talk on the street. Supposedly he is also being initiated.
Yeah. Well.
“Get up and do not give trouble, fuck-ass!” The guard growls in my ear, dragging me to my feet. By now the whole block is in an uproar, clacking anything in reach on the bars.
It’s an announcement of my departure.
The front gate is a half mile walk from the main entrance to the grounds. A long way out in the open for just about anything to happen.
I’m not given any time to pack. No chance to plan or say my farewells. So I just grin up at the faces lining the railing, the cells along most of the hallways, hands reaching out, voices shouting obscenities and cheers after me.
“Have drink for me out there, Shakal!” A familiar voice shouts.
“I will, Dmitri! You have one in here for me!”
“Fuck you! I am sick of toilet wine!”
“And yet your breath reeks of it even now,brat! Stuff’s going to make you go blind.”
“Eh,then I do not have to look at all of these ugly faces.Proshchaniye, zasranets.” I catch the last of his words as they slam the door to the cell block behind us.
“Do svidaniya, Dmitri.”At least my Russian improved.
Dmitri is one of those guys who will never get out.
Which means he is either a plant by one of the gangs, so institutionalized that he lives here permanently, or he crossed someone in his own organization. I would think they’d just kill them, but this place is worse than death, so…
Heading down the main complex building halls, I catch a glimpse of Matvey, being led along by the other guard, brought down through another block. At least we get out at the same time.
“Looking good Matty!” I snort, eyeing his change of clothing. He’s covered in old mud, dried and stained. You get them back just the way they took them off.
“It’s bullshit! I got all the way here, barely a scrape on me, and one of theseublyudkitrip me into the ditch.”
“Shut your face, Volk. Keep walking.”
He’s herded out as I have a handful of familiar clothing shoved into my chest. Guess I just change right here on the bench in the hall. As soon as I’m dressed, I stumble through the same door and out across a small courtyard. I barely recognize the exit.
The night I got brought in is a blur in my memory.
“You coming?”
“I was giving you a head start.” I chuckle, joining Mat at the final archway.
“You first.” He smirks, letting me lead the way.
“Fine, you chicken.”
So, I put on a hell of a show atLedyanoy AdPrison. Fitting. “Frozen Hell” pretty much sums it up.
And now, I’ve got an encore waiting for me on the other side of those walls. A score to settle with Dom Vipera if I ever get the chance, and more immediately, some very choice words for a certain sexy Russian Mafia woman and her blond, flattopped cohort.
The two who put me here.
Both members of the Volk Bratva. The biggest sect of the mob that runs half the country. The ports. The nightclubs.
They caught me snooping around on my family’s orders and decided to see what I was made of. Or see me eliminated by this shithole’s inmates.
So far, all Matvey’s shared about them is that they are not to be messed with. That he knows them from rumors and talk on the street. Supposedly he is also being initiated.
Yeah. Well.
“Get up and do not give trouble, fuck-ass!” The guard growls in my ear, dragging me to my feet. By now the whole block is in an uproar, clacking anything in reach on the bars.
It’s an announcement of my departure.
The front gate is a half mile walk from the main entrance to the grounds. A long way out in the open for just about anything to happen.
I’m not given any time to pack. No chance to plan or say my farewells. So I just grin up at the faces lining the railing, the cells along most of the hallways, hands reaching out, voices shouting obscenities and cheers after me.
“Have drink for me out there, Shakal!” A familiar voice shouts.
“I will, Dmitri! You have one in here for me!”
“Fuck you! I am sick of toilet wine!”
“And yet your breath reeks of it even now,brat! Stuff’s going to make you go blind.”
“Eh,then I do not have to look at all of these ugly faces.Proshchaniye, zasranets.” I catch the last of his words as they slam the door to the cell block behind us.
“Do svidaniya, Dmitri.”At least my Russian improved.
Dmitri is one of those guys who will never get out.
Which means he is either a plant by one of the gangs, so institutionalized that he lives here permanently, or he crossed someone in his own organization. I would think they’d just kill them, but this place is worse than death, so…
Heading down the main complex building halls, I catch a glimpse of Matvey, being led along by the other guard, brought down through another block. At least we get out at the same time.
“Looking good Matty!” I snort, eyeing his change of clothing. He’s covered in old mud, dried and stained. You get them back just the way they took them off.
“It’s bullshit! I got all the way here, barely a scrape on me, and one of theseublyudkitrip me into the ditch.”
“Shut your face, Volk. Keep walking.”
He’s herded out as I have a handful of familiar clothing shoved into my chest. Guess I just change right here on the bench in the hall. As soon as I’m dressed, I stumble through the same door and out across a small courtyard. I barely recognize the exit.
The night I got brought in is a blur in my memory.
“You coming?”
“I was giving you a head start.” I chuckle, joining Mat at the final archway.
“You first.” He smirks, letting me lead the way.
“Fine, you chicken.”
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