Tsvetan- Bulgaria

Charlotte- Wy

Katya- Ukraine

Oscar- Hutt River

Rua- New Zealand

James- Australia

Alin- Romania

…

Tsvetan flinched, shying away from the glares the inmates gave him as he was walked along grey corridors to his cell.

So they'd all heard then.

Who was he kidding; everyone had heard of him now, and the horrendous crime he was said to have committed: the murder of eight year old Charlotte Cook. His friends and family hated him; the country hated him; the whole world probably hated him. Crowds had screamed and shouted as he was lead from the court to a police van; the victim's brothers had cried and yelled during the trial at the apparently remorseless killer. He wasn't remorseless, just innocent and utterly confused.

Why had no one questioned it? Surely someone would have guessed he was innocent! They said it was because he had not denied it when questioned. At first he didn't, because he didn't understand what was happening! He still didn't have the clearest grasp of English, and the police questioning had confused him.

He'd only found the child, lying in a pool of blood in the street. He'd tried to save her even! Held her hand so she wouldn't be scared… told her everything was fine… cried with her…

And the police found him like that, covered in her blood with no other witnesses. He'd been too shocked and scared to move or get help, which sounded suspicious to everyone.

They said he was the one who dragged her from her front garden whilst she played. They said he lead her away and stabbed her.

But that wasn't Tsvetan!

He wouldn't dream of doing so horrendous and just plain unnecessary, but his loved ones didn't believe him. Already his immediate family had disowned him and cut him off completely.

There were Katya and Eduard of course, his closest friends. They'd tried to help him, but only after he'd begged them almost shamelessly, claiming they could put what they were learning in law school to good use. Even they weren't convinced. Katya still promised that she'd prove his innocence, even after he got his sentence. She could've been lying of course, only saying that so he'd go quietly. What if she and Ed just left him to rot?

No, they were friends!

Friends who thought he was a sick, twisted lunatic.

He was facing a life sentence, wasn't he?

He wouldn't survive it. They'd tear him apart! What'd he'd supposedly done was so bad even the criminals despised him. There was a difference between killing someone your own size and murdering a tiny, helpless child. But he was innocent! He repeated that thought in his head over and over: I'm innocent; I'm innocent; I'm innocent! Not that that would do any good. As he looked down miserably at his feet, he wondered where it all went wrong.

All he wanted was a fresh start after college and a quiet life running his little corner shop. He had that, and went through life believing nothing out of the ordinary would happen to him. He wanted to be a good man too, which was why, when he was walking home alone and came across the bloody and dying Charlotte, he'd tried to help her, despite the fact that she was a stranger. But she was too far gone for his help. He'd tried his best though, to make sure she didn't die alone. He'd sung softly to her to calm her, even if she couldn't understand what he was saying, and she remained calm, despite the agony she must've been in.

And he tried to explain that to the judge, over the cries of the girl's furious middle brother, Oscar Cook, and family friend, Rua Sheppard, who screamed abuse at him whilst the oldest brother, James Cook, just sat silently. When Tsvetan looked at him closely, he saw the man was resting his head in his hands, ignoring the tears streaming down his face and trembling. He looked so confused and haunted, like he still couldn't believe this was happening. Tsvetan guessed what he was thinking. He'd be having the same reaction if one of his own siblings had been murdered.

Despite his protests, there was little evidence to say that anyone else had done it, so he was given his sentence- life with a minimum of seventeen years- and led away.

When he got to the prison, he was searched for contraband items, given overalls to change into, and given a small talk on the general running of the place: mealtimes, break-times, day to day activities etc.

He'd not been paying too much attention though.

Now the wardens were leading him to his cell, where he'd live out his sentence. He didn't struggle, or try to escape. There was no point anymore. He gave up all hope of seeing the outside world, of being rescued by Katya and Eduard, and just let himself be led away and locked up. Maybe it was for the best though; he could feel his humanity slipping away bit by bit as he walked further into the prison. Or was it just his dignity that was disappearing?

Soon enough, the two guards either side of him stopped in front of a door, unlocked it and pushed him inside. After explaining a few features of the room, they left, locking the door behind them.

Tsvetan glanced around at his new home. It was tiny, and pretty cramped. There were bunk beds, a bench, some shelves and wash facilities. It was modern and recently built, but painted grey and already covered in graffiti and grime. The windows at the end were barred, evening light spilling through. He took all of this in quickly before turning his attention to his cell mate.

A young man, slightly younger than Tsvetan even, lay on the top bunk staring at him curiously. He had shaggy, light brown hair that nearly fell to his shoulders and bright red eyes that seemed to almost glow. Creepy. He was somewhat scrawny, with little in the way of muscle, as far as Tsvetan can tell. A good sign, the young man thought; it meant he probably wasn't in for a violent crime. But you never know…

'Hey I finally got some company!' the young man flashed him a grin, revealing a pointed fang. 'Hi! I'm Alin! Nice to meet you buddy. What's your name?' He climbed off his bunk and bounded over to Tsvetan, vigorously shaking his hand.

'Ts-Tsvetan,' he mumbled, looking away. The kid didn't seem like a bad person, but it was too early to tell just yet. He hoped the creepiness was just skin deep, as he'd probably be spending a lot of time with Alin from now on.

'So what are you in for then?' Alin leaned against the bunk beds, folding his arms and regarding his cell mate with interest. Tsvetan gulped.

'I was falsely accused of murder,' he mumbled, peering at the other to gage his reaction. He hadn't seemed to have recognised Tsvetan yet, a good sign.

'Sure you were,' Alin winked.

'No, you have to believe me! I'm innocent!' Tsvetan grabbed onto the sleeves of Alin's overalls, shaking. 'I didn't do it, but everyone says I did! Why won't anyone listen to me? I don't understand!' He probably looked insane, but didn't care. He just needed Alin at least to believe him.

'Okay buddy, calm down,' Alin chuckled nervously, removing Tsvetan's hands, 'I was only joking about. Fine, you're innocent or whatever. Now sit down and relax.'

'R-right.' Tsvetan settled awkwardly onto the lower bunk, hugging his knees. 'So why are you here? Pa-part of some creepy vampire cult?' He gave a short laugh at his own joke and even Alin giggled.

'Nope, I killed a man.'

'You're a murderer?' Tsvetan shrieked, crawling away from the other until he was pressed against the wall. The shelves at the end of his bunk digging into his back, but he didn't care.

Alin slowly walked towards him, smirking. 'That's right,' he growled, 'so you better do as I say.'

'You wouldn't… kill me too, would you?' Tsvetan was on the verge of tears now, trembling and longing for an escape.

'No!' Alin roared with laughter, poking his head under the bunk and grinning at Tsvetan. 'All I did was pirate a few films and sell them. Nothing big. I'm actually out of here soon.'

'Oh, okay,' Tsvetan gave a nervous smile, though his breathing was ragged and he was still trembling.

'You're a jumpy little bastard, aren't you?' Alin commented.

'Just terrified,' he mumbled in reply; 'they'll kill me.'

'Who will?'

'Everyone! The people here. They think I did it. They think I killed her…'

'Who?' Alin paused for a moment, staring at him closely, 'wait, you aren't… no way! You murdered that little girl!' His face grew dark and Tsvetan paled, shaking his head.

'I never! I'm not that sort of person!'

'How could you? Why? Why would you kill a small child? Hell, why would you kill anyone?'

'I didn't! I swear on my life I never touched her. Well, I did, but only to give her a hug when I found her because she was so tiny-'

'Give it a rest,' growled Alin, 'if you think you can appeal to my better nature with your lies then you're wrong. Now why did you do it?'

He kicked the bunk for good measure and Tsvetan flinched, unable to form words.

Whe he didn't get an answer, Alin snarled. 'Unbelievable. And I thought I was a scumbag.'

He withdrew his head and climbed into his own bunk; 'you better not move from that bed for the rest of the evening if you know what's good for you.' Tsvetan heard Alin move above him, settling down under his blanket before leaning over and hitting his bunk with a fist.

'Did you hear me?'

'D-da, err, I mean yes!'

'Then fucking answer.'

'Right.' Tsvetan slowly crawled over to his pillow and slipped under the blankets, a hard task due to his hands shaking uncontrollably. This was not a good start. His own cellmate hated him and he'd been here an hour or so.

And it would only get worse tomorrow.

He tried not to think if that, or the fact that he would be here for decades, unless someone here killed him. He didn't want to consider that that was a possibility, but it was pretty likely indeed. Alin might not be capable of murder, but a number of people in this place had proved they were, and would happily do it again. Right now he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Alin, meanwhile, was staring blankly at the ceiling. He'd been so happy to find that he had some company and immediately decided that he and this stranger should be friends.

But now?

He wanted nothing to do with the man! Why was he stuck here with this disgusting, messed-up, child-killer? The idea of someone like that being near him sickened him to the very core; if that was his little brother who died…

No, Alin could never imagine a world without his precious little Andrei beside him, but somewhere in the city there was a family who had to cope without their daughter or sister.

Because of that man.

Feeling more alone than ever, Alin rolled over and closed his eyes.

…

Err hello, Yolossia here. This is a new story I'm writing with ShowMeTheStarsIn221B, which is a robul human au set in New Zealand and we'll be alternating between chapters. Updates might be a bit infrequent, as we're both very busy and still haven't finished researching. But we'll get there eventually!

So… what do you think so far?

Stars says hi and sorry for the different writing styles!