The door was called shut and it rolled closed, operated by some remote person. Jericho was probably kicking himself for not having that sort of deal installed. The cell itself had a bunk bed and a toilet and a sink. My understanding of crime shows told me that this was basically the standard. There were screens embedded in the walls beside the bunks which were both set to the same station. Whatever Marine had put me in this box for, it might not be so bad.
I was unsure whether it made sense for me to try to get to know my new roommate or not. Surely he’d heard me being deposited in the cell with him, but he hadn’t bothered to turn around. That, I was slowly starting to feel, was not a positive thing. Maybe he was just really enjoying the look of the barred window he was staring at. That was fine. Outside seemed like a sane place to want to be when you were in jail. Fuck it, might as well.
“So, uh… you birdwatching or just… starin’?”
Nothing. Okay. That was another red flag. Two red flags wasn’t so bad. There was still plenty of room on the flag pole for extra colors. Some green ones maybe even. Still, he hadn’t really left me with anywhere to go from here.
I turned my head for half a second to look at the bunk bed, trying to decide which bunk I was probably going to be sleeping on when he started bobbing up and down in place. His hands were decidedly in front of his body. I was going to go ahead and throw this one in the red flag category as well. That’s not normal. He started doing a sort of weird nose kazoo thing where he made sounds as he bobbed up and down and that was when I decided it wasn’t a bad idea to back up to the edge of the cell and give myself plenty of room to be not-near whatever was going on.
He spun around and I immediately had a host of questions that I felt would go unanswered for possibly the rest of my life. He had ripped his shirt open just over his nipples and had, as near as I can tell, used his hands to do the same to his jeans just over his crotch. A very turgid, very upsettingly purple cock was standing proud between the shreds of denim as though welcoming me to the nightmare I’d always known was going to come true. An alarm sounded and I thought for the whole of a second that it meant someone was coming to save me from being crammed full of priapism and a lifetime of night terrors.
As if he had a fucking handbook of shit that I did not want to happen in this exact situation, he started whistling. Really awful, breathy whistling. I started thinking of things I could use to defend myself from a penis, but then I realized he probably had some kind of retard strength or something and that’s when I assumed a wide escape stance. Nimbly, like a rape-averse cat, I hopped back and forth.
“Oh, yeah… which way’s he goin’? Too fast for you.”
This seemed to enrage my cellmate and he charged at me. I dodged to the side, spinning myself so my back was against the bunk bed. I didn’t want to leave any of my enticing pieces facing him. He slapped against the cell door and turned. Perhaps expecting me to work my way to the far wall, where the window was, he moved back to the center of the cell. He gave a wide grin, showing rounded brown kernels where a normal human would have had teeth. He charged again, but I was cunning and moved myself back to the cell door. Still, it was not a move that was particularly hard to follow up. Worse, I lost my footing and slipped to the ground. I heard the first sound out of my new friend. A gleeful trill.
I had made it to my knees— I know. Exactly what he wants— when he grabbed the back of my head. A hot, meaty stick rubbed against the back of my neck and I let out a sound that I have never been able to reproduce. A sort of guttural vomit noise that capped off with a high shriek. He put his hands firmly on my head and started trying to force it around. I batted at him with my hands, screaming, and flailing as best I could. I felt a weird electrical tingle run down my arm and I heard a sound I’d heard a few times earlier that day.
The hands moved back from my head and I heard staggered footsteps. Finally deciding to look, I saw a face that had never known a deeper regret. He screamed, blood falling to the floor in gobs. Where his cock had been, there was now a distinct arc. The upper fifth of a circle and been carved out of his crotch by my finger laser.
Behind me, I heard hurried footsteps over my would-be sex friend’s screaming. I turned to see Marine come to a stop in the door to the cell which had, at some point, rolled open.
“Holy shit…” She looked past me to the gory pile of rapist that had crumpled to the floor.
“He… he tried to put it in my mouth.”
Marine looked wide-eyed between me and the maybe-corpse. “We… we have to go. It’s time to go.”
I stood up, nodding. “I’m fine with that.”
Chapter
FIFTEEN
Marine was in charge of guiding us out of
