#5. Death wish
981 Words
The moment the whistle announced pairing, tension snapped tight across the field.
A girl stepped forward and cornered Olivia with deliberate intent, her shadow falling heavy on her and inescapable. She was massive, broad shoulders, thick arms corded with muscle, her presence alone enough to make the air feel scarce. Olivia’s breath stalled in her chest as the woman’s eyes dragged over her, slow and assessing, like a predator choosing its meal.
Emmy and Lydia stood a few steps behind her, frozen. Emmy’s fingers dug into Lydia’s sleeve. Lydia’s mouth opened, then closed again, fear tightening her jaw.
“Wanna pair up, new girl?” the woman said, voice smooth, almost amused.
She was at least three times Olivia’s size. There would be no contest. No mercy.
Olivia swallowed hard, her throat painfully dry. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms as she tried to find her voice. Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain they could hear it.
Before she could speak, Lydia stepped in, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Um, I don’t really think she’ll like to pair up, but thanks,” Lydia said quickly. “Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s gaze shifted, slow, dangerous and landed on Lydia. She stepped closer, invading her space, forcing Lydia to tilt her head back just to meet her eyes.
“I didn’t ask you to interfere,” Elizabeth said calmly. Too calmly. “I asked her. Not you.”
Lydia raised both hands in surrender, backing away a step. Her bravado evaporated instantly.
So this was Elizabeth. The name that had been passed like a warning. The queen of the female inmates.
Olivia’s chest tightened.
“Um—” Olivia started, the word barely making it past her lips.
“Paired,” Elizabeth concluded flatly.
Olivia’s eyes widened. Panic flared sharply in her eyes. She hadn’t even agreed. She hadn’t even—
“Move it,” Elizabeth said, bumping into Olivia’s shoulder as she walked past her, the impact deliberate “You’re with me.”
Olivia staggered half a step, catching herself before she fell.
“You’re in deep s**t,” Emmy whispered urgently the moment Elizabeth was out of earshot.
“That’s Elizabeth,” Lydia added, voice low. “The queen of female inmates.”
Olivia swallowed, her pulse racing. “What do I do?” she asked, the question trembling despite her effort to steady it.
Lydia didn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “And I wouldn’t know.” She turned and walked away.
“I wish you luck,” Emmy said softly, already retreating after Lydia.
Olivia stood alone.
Her chest felt hollow and her limbs heavy. She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, trying not to think about the size of Elizabeth’s fists, the way her eyes had gleamed with anticipation.
“Hey, newbie!” Elizabeth yelled from across the field. “Don’t let me call you again.”
Olivia flinched and hurried toward her, fear pushing her feet forward even as every instinct screamed to run.
Elizabeth grinned when she reached her. “Buckle up,” she said, rolling her shoulders as she squared up. “I’m gonna enjoy beating you to a pulp.”
The smirk she wore was cruel, satisfied, like the outcome was already decided.
Elizabeth settled into position, patient, waiting for the whistle. Olivia mirrored her stance awkwardly, adjusting her footing, her arms lifting on instinct more than confidence. She knew she would lose. Knew it in her bones. All she could do was brace herself and hope the damage wouldn’t be permanent.
Just then, a policewoman approached them.
“Elizabeth,” the officer said sharply. “You’ll be pairing with someone else.”
Elizabeth straightened immediately. “What do you mean I’m pairing with someone else?” she snapped. “I want to pair with this new b*tch.”
The officer stepped closer, lowering her voice. She leaned in and whispered something into Elizabeth’s ear.
Elizabeth stiffened.
The color drained from her face so fast it was startling. Her confident posture collapsed inward, shoulders tightening, jaw locking. Fear—real and unmistakable flickered in her eyes.
She groaned under her breath and lifted her hands in surrender, backing away. “Fine,” she muttered, already retreating.
“You’re lucky, girl,” the officer said, glancing at Olivia. “But not for long. Thanks to D.M for helping you.”
The officer walked off.
Olivia frowned, confusion swirling as adrenaline finally began to ebb. D.M? The name meant nothing to her. She stood there for a moment, stunned, then exhaled shakily as relief washed through her legs, leaving them weak.
She ended up pairing with a smaller girl, someone just as tense and unsure as she was. The training passed without incident. No injuries. No blood. When the whistle finally blew, Olivia was exhausted but intact.
She looked across the field to where Elizabeth stood with her partner.
Both of them were bleeding badly.
A cold shiver slid down Olivia’s spine.
That could have been her.
It was time to shower.
The locker room buzzed with tired chatter, metal clanging, bodies moving around. Olivia stripped quietly, her movements quick and she quickly stepped into the female showers. Warm water cascaded over her skin, loosening muscles still knotted with tension.
She closed her eyes, letting herself breathe for the first time all day.
Then her curtain was yanked open.
Olivia gasped, arms flying up instinctively as she stumbled back. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
The man standing there looked at her shamelessly, his gaze roaming without restraint.
It was him.
The same one who had cornered her earlier.
“Well well well.” he said, grinning. “Look at that body. Let me show you what skill I’ve got, baby. Come here.”
- Writer
