Disclaimer: My characters, stories and events are all fiction. However since this is a fanfiction site and the only community with awesome readers, I have renamed some of the characters after some of my favorite wrestling superstars as a tribute to them and the entertainment they have given us so my stories can qualify to be posted here. I have the greatest respect for the superstars and their families and I ask that my stories are read for their entertainment value and not for who the characters are named for. Of course all of my characters are original and their names have nothing to do with any actual person or reflect them in any way. Events in my stories should not be confused with anyone living or dead and any similarity is coincidental.

The Prison Camp

Chapter 1:

"These kids have a debt to pay to society." Warden Thomas Walker paced in front of his desk, speaking on the phone. "The reformatories budget has been cut so deep that we are barely paying bills. What I'm talking about will get both facilities out of the red and actually make a profit." He listened as the higher authority spoke for a moment. "Hey, five years. Consider it a test run, and if it goes well this could be an option for other prisons."

Walker hung up the phone with a smile. After two years of making his points his plan had finally been given the approval it needed. It could not have come at a better time when a once thriving cotton mill had been closed and its building and equipment put up for sale. Bordering the mill was an old apartment complex that was almost as old as the brick building itself.

Thomas Walker ran a reformatory for boys who had committed crimes. Most were sentenced to reside in the youth jail until their twenty-first birthday. With more and more youths coming in, overcrowding was an issue, as was the funds to keep the place running. Walkers plan was to put the older boys to work. The ones who had turned eighteen and were considered adults. He believed the kids should be sent to a regular prison at that age so they would learn what a real prison was like so they would think twice about committing a crime once they were released, but that idea never got any attention.

But a work camp did. Anything that could make the government money instead of draining it. Chyna, The warden of the sister reformatory agreed with him. He would collaborate with her over the next few months to get it up and running. Eighty four eighteen year old boys would start the program and would make a great skeleton crew to work in a cotton mill according to the supervisors he had spoken to who he would hire now that he had permission to run and train the men and the twenty-two women who would join them.

Randy stepped off the bus and looked up at the sky. He had not seen it in over a year thanks to the time he had spent in solitary confinement. With his hands handcuffed and his legs shackled he slowly followed the line of men in front of him. He was twenty years old and had been in the jail for youths since he was sixteen. They were led through a tall fence with barbed wire, the same as the prisons. He didn't know why he was being moved or what to expect from the new facility. The men were lined up in a large court yard that had what looked like apartments on all sides. There were cell doors on all the doors and bars on the windows as well as a large fence locking them in to the area.

"Listen up." Warden Walker walked in front of them, hitting his hand with the baton as he usually did. The old man was completely gray headed and looked twice his age, but the men had learned at an early age that he was not weak or brittle. There wasn't a man present that had not been beaten brutally by the man. "You are being given a unique opportunity. Do not mess it up." He walked and looked every man in the eyes. "You will be assigned to a cell. Not a normal cell, but a home from now until the time of your parole. You see that big building next door? That will be your job. You will work. You will do your job without cutting corners and you will receive a reasonable pay which you will receive on what will look like a credit card. In the corner of the yard you will see a store. This store is there for your conveyance. This is not a regular jail, men. This is a neighborhood. As long as you mind your manners and do what is expected of you, you will be allowed to live a normal life within this community. Consider this your rehabilitation gentleman. Do not blow it."

They were then unchained and they waited while they were assigned to their apartments. "One more thing. The section you see behind me is the women's section. Until a new community can be built, you will share this neighborhood with prisoners from our sister prison. Do not get too excited. This is a temporary arrangement."

Randy was again shocked and wondered if the warden had complete permission to integrate the prisons.

Either way he was happy to be out of the dreary place he had lived in for so long.

Randy was shown into his new home and the cell door was locked behind him. Other than the cell door, everything else looked like a real home. He shut the wooden front door behind him, which the cell doors where placed over and he looked around. Privacy. That was what he had craved for so long. It was the reason he always picked fights at the prison just so he could be placed in a solitary cell. He was put in a one bedroom apartment and so far he did not have a roommate like some of the other prisoners. He would be released in eight months and he hoped he would not get a roommate in that time. He didn't care much for people. At least not the kind he had come to know since he had been arrested.

The wall in the apartment were cracked and with paint peeled away in many places. There were cob webs in every corner and he could feel the grit on the floor beneath his bare feet when he took off his shoes. The living room and the kitchen were separated only by a sheet that he guessed was left behind by whoever had lived there once before. The bathroom was tiny and was located in a small room just behind the kitchen. The bathtub was old and stained with rust and a circular shower curtain went all the way around it while the shower head hung on a pipe high above the tub. The sink was small as well and the toilet was so close to it that he knew he could prop his arm up on the sink when he sat down. The bedroom was about the same size as the living room. Not very big and it only had a mattress sitting on the floor that he had a feeling was also left behind by the last tenant who had probably left it over a decade before judging by the layers of dust on it. Despite everything Randy lay down on the mattress and relaxed.