The Juvenile Hall Thief
by Jimmy
The thief was watchful.
In the bowels of the night, his
keen eyes roam the halls of the facility windows and doors watching and
learning the layout of the land and more importantly how to break-out a certain
inmate.
His name is Silas Dark.
The thief is clever and bides his
time. Several weeks have passed since Silas Dark was first brought to Bartlet
Juvenile Hall and in that very short time Silas Dark has made a reputation of
himself. No one crosses him. Silas Dark’s edgy demeanor, and quiet watchfulness
was pegged for shyness. A mistake that Cliff still regrets to this very day.
Ever since Cliff staged an attack on Silas Dark during his first night in the
institution he has been made out to be the plaything of Silas’s.
Everyday a new torture awaits
him, and this night is no different as Cliff steaks down the hall naked as the
day he was born with words written along his back: Fresh Meat! The words were
written like a tramp stamp above his ass, the cursive writing just dipping into
the globes of his hairy ass.
Silas Dark awaits his thief, he
knows that he has failed him and will come to redeem himself. And he sits
quietly on his bed, hands tucked behind his head as awaits his arrival.
The thief does not disappoint.
Coming along the roof, the window
trembles in its frame as the thief works at the lock from above a small and
narrow wire slowly sliding along the tracks of the wooden frame.
Silas Dark listening to the
screams of Cliff, pops out of bed and pulls on a handmade rucksack over one
shoulder as he casually struts to the window the glass opening just as he gets
to the wall.
“It’s raining be,” Silas Dark
comments as his lip curls annoyed as the gentle drops hit his chest and
forehead.
A rope dangles down, and Silas
Dark sighs wondering if it is even worth it to go out in such terrible weather
but he decides that the rain if it keeps up like this will block and hide his
escape quite nicely.
Taking the rope in hand, he
prepares to jump out the window but a hand drops only his shoulder. It’s his
roommate and trusted “ally” from the inside.
“Push the rope back for me, I’ll
be right behind you,” he says.
Silas Dark barely looks over his
shoulder but coolly tells him “Of course.”
He was not bad for the time in
here, but Silas Dark would never chance his escape on someone he barely knows.
After scrambling out the window,
rain pelts him hard and his well-worn sleeveless jumpsuit from the Bartlet
facility is easily soaked to his skin as he climbs up the side of the building.
It’s only three quick hand-over-hand pulls and the thief helps him as he tugs
the other end of the rope up.
When he is standing up on the
roof he can just hear his roommate below calling for the rope.
Silas Dark wishes to just cut the
line and watch the young fellows face fall, but he can’t risk the falling rope
being seen or heard even over the rain. Already he is on the clock and does not
wish to be caught.
“This way,” the thief tells him.
Silas Dark not usually a follower
grits his teeth as he takes up the rest of the rope, and begins to
follow.
At the fire escape stairway,
Silas sees in the darkness a car waiting and running the headlights are off but
the exhaust puffing out the tail pipe puffs slow little dark clouds that he can
barely make out against the starless night sky.
Lightning crackles overhead and
Silas Dark spots the thief dressed in dark jeans, a black long sleeve shirt
with his trademark mask in place. ‘That must be annoying to wear when wet,
good.’
They take the stairs, the
lightening overhead bursts and cracks in the sky angry white light illuminating
the pair as they head down the stairs.
A hand reaches out and grabs the
thief by the collar, hands twisting viciously around his neck and stopping him
in his tracks. An open window, a mistake that Silas Dark would not have made us
all the way open a man with flaming red hair, and a close cut mustache of the
same color just out the window preventing him from taking another step.
“Stall still!” the guard urges, and
Silas remembers this one. He liked to trip the delinquents from the juvenile
hall as they were crossing the corridors or switching their dry towels for wet
ones when they were not looking. He loved to harass the young boys and Silas
Dark takes a lot of pleasure as he appears next to the thief and punching him
solidly between the eyes.
Red blood blossoms from the guard’s
nose and as he takes a step back, covering his face Silas Dark reaches down
roughly grabbing the bulge in his dress slacks. It’s not much of a handhold and
he suppresses a laugh as he gives it a twisting squeeze and drags him back to
the window.
The guard begins to squeal, a
natural response in this instant but a punch to his throat takes that away from
him. The guard’s eyes bulge and Silas Dark continues to crush his pathetic
testicles in his nutclaw as he drains the resilience from him and he drops to
the floor.
Silas Dark does not give him a
second look, but takes the walkie talkie and chucks it far into the
grounds.
“Move faster, thief.”
Silas Dark never bothered to
learn his name. The only thing he is interested in about him is his lock
picking knowledge and his loyalty. Silas Dark pays him well for both.
Upon reaching the grass the two
take off for the car, and the thief tries to give him directions but Silas Dark
shushes him. “I see it, just run.”
The doors slam shut, and the car
headlights flick on. Immediately the windshield wipers are out to work as the
car blasts down the road the alarm just now going off.
“Where to?” the thief asks.
“You have to ask?” Silas Dark
says unzipping his uniform and reaching into the back for his clothes packed
nicely into a pile for him, they are still warm to the touch.
“Bring me to Hell House, Sam and
I have a score to settle,” Silas Dark orders and he swears that he can see the
lips curl underneath the wet mask of the thief in the driver’s seat
smile.
“I owe that brat, and Sam Hell
too. Let’s go…and make it quick.”
Silas Dark nods as he takes the
wet jumpsuit and juvenile hall issued shorts and tosses them into the bag. He’s
naked, but he feels free and Silas Dark checks the rear view mirror.
No one is following.
Breathing out a sigh of relief,
he starts to get dressed as the fantasies he has been playing in his mind twist
and turn each one placing Sam Hell and his “invincible devil coins” to the
rest.
After he’s dressed Silas Dark
reaches into his pocket and pulls out the new cell phone and calls his
contact.
“I’m on my way to Hell House.
Update?”
“Jake, he’s gone. Reunited with
his mother. Want me to keep checking on him?”
“Don’t bother, with him out of
the way that makes things even easier,” Silas Dark’s lips curl into a snarl.
“Are they home?”
“Yes…but… there is one problem.
The Dad is at home.”
Silas Dark smirks and chuckles.
“Don’t worry about Daddy Brady, I took him out easily the last time. I have no
doubt that I will again. Let me know if anything changes, Silas out.”
Dropping the phone into his top
pocket, Silas Dark lays back content that his prey is about to be in his claws.
His fingers itch next to his thighs and he longs to message Sam Hell that he is
on his way but he refrains. He will know soon enough.
To be continued….
2 comments:
Awesome! This story was very nicely written.
I can’t wait to see this villain back in action. He kinda makes Sam Hell seem like a loveable rogue !
I guess we may find out what Will Brady can do with a psir of evil testicles too.
Silas and Sam both have a tough set so this could be pretty epic!
Reg
Hi Reg!
Yeah, this was a set-up story but I am excited for this little dark tale as the villains take center stage. I am gonna try to really knock this one out of the park. It's been bubbling in my head for a bit so I am looking forward to writing the third and fourth one (part 2 is already done).
Hope that you like part 2 which comes out on Friday.
Take care, my friend!
Jimmy
Post a Comment