CHYSTYLL

A Story by tatenda

A troubled boy in prison over an alleged murder over an alleged enemy

It seemed like an organized hive of activities which surrounded the room. All of the functions which were taking place were well coordinated as if order was the number priority. Except for a few, the rest were really having a feast seated on the neatly arranged tables.
The blue overalls showed that the occupant has been united for a similar purpose. The ones patrolling were clad in grey and black security gears complete with their arms.
It was lunch time at the Richmond Prison and the inmates were really enjoying this daily piece of peaceful nourishment. Only a few were actually playing with their food while some were deeply invested in an intense conversation.
All of a sudden, all eyes shifted towards the door where a heavily built man was standing. Like the rest, he was in the blues but it had no sleeves. The purpose was probably to reveal two huge and strong muscular pale arms. One could swear that they were not really his arms but two mechanical built arms due to their size. Even the overall seemed to be really small as his big body made them resembles tights.
His face was a fierce carved one complete with the bald head. He was one scary man, the one you do not want to meet in the dark alleys at midnight. No wonder why his inmates respected him out of fear. His word was the law and some of the guards were really scared of him. He had been one of the feared drug lords who was a victim of the reformed Judiciary system and a really determined District Attorney. Ever since the town had been really quiet although the prison was not. He was practically the king.
It had been a decade since he was arrested and through that time, he had been able to wield himself enough power to eliminate his rivals in prison to leave as the undisputed one.
His real name was Tom Paier but he was also the General.

The General stood at the other end of the table visibly angry and started to match forward. Everyone gave way while the guards just did nothing. He stopped at one table and flipped it away as if it was made of paper.
“I thought you’ve learnt your lesson but clearly you haven’t!” He bellowed.
The recipient remained quite still on his bench still holding the fork. He was staring at the mess which had been created by his upended plate on the floor. This medium height and well built lad seemed not startled by this. He was not as strong as the General and his really bushy beard made him really mysterious.
This was Piet Ian Triad in his third year doing what he knew best; pissing of the General. His silence was like a really sharp double edged dagger piercing through the heart. The General was never comfortable around people who always give him the silent treatment.
It had really infuriated him and he almost exploded,
“Do you wanna start a war with him, lad?”
Piet simply stood up and turned to leave. He was only stopped by a vice grip hold on his right shoulder by the General. At that very time, he released a real blow. Either he missed or Piet dodged as the General was thrown off balance and tossed on the floor by Piet. What followed next was a real brawl.
The General was strong but a little bit slow and clumsy while Piet was quick yet weak. Tables were upended, plates thrown and fist flew from one end to the other. The guards did not do anything as they wanted to see him discipline an inmate for them while the inmates cheered quite afraid to stop the fight.
To be frank, Piet was the one in control despite his smaller size. He had managed to pin him down before the guards went in to stop the fight. Piet was seized by three guards and dragged away to the office of the Warden.

Piet knew what was transpiring. He was much alert as he was dragged to the warden’s office of Zola. Zola was settled on his chair shaking his head in disbelief. He was someway in his late 30s with a clumsy face.
Although he always looked like he was going to cry, he was a tough cookie. Getting in trouble with him was usually tantamount to a living hell.
“What’s wrong with you, Mr. Triad,” he gave Piet one hard stare and continued, ”you got only a year left till you are eligible for parole and you wanna mess that up?”
Piet was as stolid as ever and Zola was now tapping his desk, “here is the thing, the DA for some reason of their own don’t like you. Since you been here, they been looking for every possible means to make it quite longer. You are making it easy for them by creating trouble for yourself…”
“Are you really positive that I’m always aggressor?” Piet had rudely interrupted him.
“That’s not really important, the fighting part is quite crucial to them …” again he was cut.
“Here is the thing Mr. Zola, in here there is a beast who apparently calls himself the General maybe of the prison in legally headed by you. He is quite known for beating the hell out of the other inmates. He always gets away with murder. Your noble idea is quite stupid unless you want me to follow Mandla and Claude to wherever they went to.”
“Are you in insinuating that I was the one responsible for the death of those two guys!?”
“Maybe,” Piet released a really sarcastic smile and went on,” you never liked them and they were ready to expose you of your funny business you been doing in here. All you had to do was alert your dog so that all fingers could rest on him not you. That’s my theory unless you got an interesting one.”
“That a really strong accusation, care to back it up,” Zola was now staring at the window as if to manage his anger.
“Relax; it’s my own version of the story just like your wife would when she finds out that her husband is messing around with the kids’ nanny or her friend…”
That was the last straw as he was quickly snatched by Zola who throw him to the wall before pressing him to the wall,
“Listen, I don’t like you and I’m actually doing you a flavor by not telling the DA and creating my own side of the story. At least you should be grateful …”
“Thanks but no thanks. If your beast continues attacking me, I will kill him. Nope I will make him expose you and before he kills you in the process …”
A thunderous knockout blow caught his jaws and he staggered to the floor. Almost immediately, he was swarmed by guards who came from no way who joined in giving him a lesson. From there he was dragged to the Solitary Unit where he was to retire.

© 2013 tatenda

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Rodger Tunif

A rather interesting concept. I would be intrigued to see how this develops. Your use of language in the beginning of this piece is rather dull. Try to use more expressive language which contains your precise meaning. For example, when describing the tongue it didn't help to describe it as 'really sharp'. Use a better adjective than 'really'. I would also like to see more development regarding the 'bee-hive' metaphor. I found this interesting and perhaps you could develop it some more. I enjoyed the dialogue, but there needs to be narrative in between the comunication to keep the reader interested. You have some great ideas, and like us all, you need to tidy up some of your language to convey your ideas convincingly with passion. Keep it up!