Stone box

- She's not getting out of here. Ever.

Those were the first words she heard the cop say since he had grabbed and dragged her from the undercity. Her soul started to crawl back in the corners of her mind.

- Okay boss.

The shiver down her spine turned into a block of ice.

No! no no no no no please no, she thought. She was terrified, so terrified. Probably more scared than she had ever been in her entire life, including the day Enforcers came and burnt her house and family down.

From the moment she had woken from the drug-induced slumber, tied up and carried on the enforcer's shoulders like a bag of potatoes, she had been paralyzed with the realization of what all just happened. Vander, gone. gone gone gone, for real, for good. Milo, gone. Claggor, gone. All because of Powder, the poor Powder, who wanted nothing more than to help.

She had abandoned her. Left her behing, casted her out, left her in the arms of that bastard Silco. How could she? How could she?

With the energy of despair and self-loathing, she had tried to fight her way out of her captive's shackles, but it had been useless. The man had threatened her to knock her back out if she didn't keep calm, and he did deliver when she tried to kick his face.

Now she was standing in front of a big, big man, so tall she could not reach his chin with her fist even, with a jump. Then she had noticed the tag on his uniform.

Stillwater prison.

From that moment, all her anger and will to fight had vanished to leave the place for pure terror. She had to get back to Powder. She had to, she couldn't stay here.

She tried to beg through the gag blocking her mouth.

- Do we have a name? asked the giant man.

- I think her name is Vi, answered the cop. But I suppose "Pink" could do the trick too.

The warden did not even raise an eyebrow. He just quickly wrote something down on a dirty piece of paper.

- Alright. Leave her to us.

The enforcer just pushed her forward, almost gently. She looked at him, trying to beg with her eyes as much as she could.

Please let me go back! I've done nothing to you!

- I'm sorry... he whispered, with pain expression. It's either that or your death.

Then he just left, leaving the giant man to grab her like she was nothing.

She was nothing. She'd rather have chosen death.

More than anything else, the cell was cold. Very, very cold. The bed was a block of stone, with nothing but a blanket so thin she probably could see through it, if there was any light. And a toilet, which was just a whole in the group, just large enough for her fist. Nothing any inmate could use for an escape attempt.

The guard pushed her inside, without violence, without any snarky comment. As if she wasn't even there, or at least not worthy of it. She would have preferred it if he had said something. Insulted her, mock her, tease her, punch her. Anything. But he just locked the cage behind her, and left, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the darkness.

Her hands finally free, she ripped out her gag. At that moment only she allowed herself to cry. Cry as much as she could, cry for Vander, for her friends, brothers in all things but blood, cry for Powder she had forsaken, cry for her freedom lost, and her life buried under the wreckage of Silco's hideout.

She cried until the sun came out. Not that she could see it.

Powder woke up with her eyes completely dry. Never in her life had she slept in such a conformable bed. Silco's room was not the most spacious, despite the means and the funds he had at his disposition, but he certainly didn't skip on the quality of his furniture. When he had carried her in, in the middle of the night, dirty from the smoke and all the events of the night, he had given her his bed. Almost forced her.

- I'll take the chair, he said. I got a lot of work ahead of me anyway. Sleep, you need some rest. We'll talk more in the morning.

She hadn't really slept. For a start, the bed was too soft for her. Too big. Then, every time she closed her eyes, she kept seing Vander's difformed body, lying on the ground, purple lines running along the overly muscular arms. She kept seing Violet crying on his chest, heard the sound of her sobs. Then she kept seing her face, the rage and disgust in it.

You're a Jinx!

What if she was, uh? Jinx or not, they were sisters ! Family sticks together! She didn't have the right to leave her! She had begged her! And still, she had disappeared into the night! So had Mylo and Claggor... Gone into the night. Because of her. She didn't have to see their broken bodies to know it. Just seing Vi leaving without them on her trail was enough certitude.

Still she couldn't cry. She felt like she had cried enough. She was tired of it. Tired of begging, of asking to PLEASE, PLEASE not leave her. They did anyway. Silco didn't, at least. He had stayed there, and brought her back. Accepted her. On those thoughts had she finally fallen asleep.

A knock on the door.

- Are you up? said a voice. It was calm, quiet, soothing.

- Yes...

Her voice had cracked, more than she would have like. Throat dry. She needed water, that's why. Had to be.

The man come in and turned the lights on.

- It's already late in the morning, young girl. Have you slept alright?

She rose her shoulders.

- I think so.

Silco sat on the bed. For the first time she truly noticed his face, the burnt skin, and more than anything else, the yellow dots in the center of his deeply dark eye. She must have stared for too long, because he said :

- Ah yes. This always intrigue people. It does certainly catch the eye.

He chuckled at his own joke.

- But this is probably not the best time for this story. Tell me, young girl. What is your name?

He didn't have to ask for it, of course, he knew. He knew all about Vander, all about anyone who was close to him. Still, he felt like he had to ask.

- Vi called me a jinx... she answered, her head low, looking at the white sheets. It was not the answer she wanted to give, it just came out.

- Jinx? That is for certain an unusual name.

- That's not my name! My name is Powder!

- That is unusual as well. Powder it is then. So tell me, young Powder, do you have a home? A house, a place where you usually stay?

She jumped like a spring, up on the bed, recoiled back to the wall, trying to find something she could grab so they couldn't drag her away.

- No! No no no! I didn't do anything! Please! Don't make me go!

Silco tried to calm her down with gentle smile.

- I am not sending you back, he explained. I want to send my people get your belongings so you wouldn't feel too strange in this new place. I believe it's important for someone to feel at home to get the best work done.

She looked at him. He seemed... honest. So she told him.

516

She looked at the number embroidered on the prisoner uniform. Not sure when or who had left it in her cell, she looked around. No one. Probably while she was asleep. She considered her own clothes for a second. They were torn, and bloody. Thin. At least the uniform looked warmer.

She hesitated for a second, between her pride and doing what was best for a chance of survival, and the latest won the battle quickly.

She took off her shirt, if it could still be called a shirt. The fresh air gave her an uncontrollable shiver. She looked down, inspecting her body. Her ribs were painful, but none of the bruise looked blue or yellow enough to suggest a broken bone. Maybe cracked, at worst. Her right hand was more painful though. Despite her practice and habits, despite Vander's metal gloves, she had hurt herself. Maybe even broke her hand. She gently caressed her knuckled and grimaced. Too painful to be a good sign... She grunted, she knew she'd need those weapons, in here.

Stillwater had a reputation, down in the undercity. Not that no one ever came back, nor that they were torturing inmates, or anything like this. Despite being a bunch of self-entitled motherfuckers, the topsiders had a basic respect of the dignity. At least, whenever it was right under their noses... And the prison was part of their territory.

But she knew that the place could break people's mind. She had seen it once or twice. Not to mention the gang wars, inmates murders and everything that could snuff her life out in a single second. Everything she would have to fight against.

The uniform felt rough against her skin. Itchy. Shit.

Sounds started to reach her, echoing against the stones. Some inmates talking to each others from cell to cell, some insulting or threatening each others. Wardens asking for calm. The lights were so dim on front of her cell, in the hallways... She missed Powder's colorful drawings on the walls. Those would do wonder in this place. She looked around. No windows. No clocks. No way to know what time it was, or how slow the seconds were flowing...

She sat back on her stone bed. She needed to think. Find a way to get out of this place. One thing after the other : learn as much as she could, who to trust, who to avoid, who was in power. Nothing really different from out there in the street. Then, a way out of there. And then, get back to Powder. Simple.

Her stomach protested. She hadn't eaten anything in an eternity, and she prayed she wouldn't have to wait until the evening for a meal. It had been a long, long time since she had been painfully hungry. Vander had always provided, if not much, at least enough.

So she waited. She expected to have wait a lot in here.

She was almost back in a slumber when the loud metallic sounds of a thousand gates opening at once startled her. Her gate was opened. Voices grew louder, so did the sounds of footsteps, to a point where she could not hear a own thoughts. One person passed by, an old man looking at his feet. An other one. Then two women. A hundred prisoners. Some looked at her, curious, some with an unsettling impression on their faces, but most just ignored her. She figured she'd had to go with the flow, so she stepped out, and tried to keep her head low.

The prison yard was just like her cell, but hundred times bigger. Just another big square of stones, without a single view at the sky. They were people all around her, maybe a thousand or more, gathering into groups, some around a bench with a few metal weights they started to lift. Others in corners, some all on their own, mostly fragile looking folks, the ones who end up victims sooner than later. She counted at least three different races, with represents of both genders. No Yordles, though. Vi identified at least two threats, massive men with a crew of goons hanging around, like metal scraps around a magnet. She stayed away, her back against the wall, evaluating her surroundings.

- Vi? Vi, that's you?

She jumped, surprised, and looked around. A man, long hair, late in his thirties, with an eye-patch on his left eye, was approaching, looking concerned and worried. His only valid eye was going crazy, checking left, right, above and under, before talking again.

- Vi! It IS you! I knew I recognized those pink hair. Shit... What are you doing here?

It took the young woman a few seconds to recognize the man.

- Devaki? Scrapping Dev? That you?

The man scratched his head.

- Yeah yeah. I know, hard to recognize me with half the face missing...

- What are you doing here? We all thought you had skipped town, what, two years ago?

- Yeah well... I was. Got caught on my way out. Somebody ratted me out, they just picked me up light a fucking flower...

Devaki, aka Scrapping Dev, was a low-life thief who used to hang out at the Last Drop. Poor man with barely a skill to his name, but at least the decency to be a good friend.

- I could ask you the same question, though ! What are you doing here? This ain't no place for a kid ! Why the hell did they throw you in here? Vander didn't bail you out in time?

Vi lowered her head. It felt heavy, almost too heavy for her own neck.

- Vander's dead. Killed last night by Silco.

Scrapping Dev froze.

- Vander's dead? No... Fuck. If Silco killed him, it's gonna get messy in here...

Vi raised an eyebrow, looking for an explanation.

- There's barely ten people in here who ain't from the Lanes. Everybody knows Vander, and half of them are friends. One way or another. The other half, however...

He didn't finish his sentence, and didn't need to. In a way, that warmed Vi's heart a bit. At least, she might recognize a few people in here. Maybe have some friends, some supports, if she could find a couple of folks who owed her old man.

- What happened to your eye? she asked.

- Got caught in a scrap, a few months back. Got it knifed out before I understood what happened to me.

- Shit man. I'm sorry.

He raised his shoulders.

- Vi... How's my kid? Still with his mother?

- Yeah, from time to time. Dev Junior is better with his hands than you ever were, for sure. Haven't seen him in few weeks, but to be honest, I was too busy trying to get the heat off my back.

- Ah good, that's good. Listen Vi. You gotta be careful in here. There ain't many women, and they split in two categories. Cold-hearted, ugly ass killers, and pretty little dolls who end up chained to one of those fuckers over there, for protection.

- I can take care of myself.

- Maybe. Maybe not. But I get the feeling most bastards here will think you're in the second category. And I can't help you much in here, I'm at the bottom of the food chain. I got three more years to do until I'm out of here, and I intend to live through it.

- I get that, Dev.

She looked around, finding for a way, an idea. She had to take the lead, be on the offensive, before half of the sex-deprived pigs in there mark her as a new target.

- You know anyone who work for Silco here?

Dev looked uneasy.

- Silco's a rumor. A ghost. Most of his people in here work for a middle-man, who works for another middle-man, who works for...

- another middle-man. I get it. But you know Silco.

- I did, back when he and Vander were still close... Alright, look. See those three other there? Fresh blood, arrived two weeks ago. Bragged about working for Finn.

- One of the middle-men.

- Yeah.

- Thanks.

She rolled her shoulders, and left Dev behind. She had to make sure people wouldn't peg her for one of those dolls. She walked to the three, determined, and hailed :

- Hey! I heard you're working for Finn.

- Uh? Whats it to you?

Without a single warning, her right hook connected with the jaw of the ugliest-looking one, sending him flying, two teeth knocked out of his mouth. Before the second one could react, the tallest one, she bent the knee, shifting to her left side, and delivered a massive double hook to the liver, forcing the man to bend forward in pain. She now could finish the job with a single, powerful uppercut. Cheers, screams and whistles filled her ears, blood pumping in her temples. Her injured hand was pulsing with pure pain but she ignored it. Some enforcers screamed in the background.

The third man, the one who looked like the less threatening, wasn't about to wait to get his share. His kick aimed and hit Vi's knee, throwing of balance, and his fist dove toward her face at the speed of light. She dodged by a hair and countered, slamming her left knuckles in his teeth and nose, breaking the latest with a disgusting sound.

- Tell the bastard I'm coming back, she screamed. Powder's mine, and I'll have her back!

She kicked the man on the ground, straight in her ribs, and, out of nowhere, someone, something, tackled her to the ground. Within a few seconds, she was subdued, unable to move another inch, both legs and both arms pinned to the floor, her face in the dirt.

- You hear me, bastards? I'll get her back!

The three enforcers lifted her off the ground without delicacy, her hands pinned in her back, and dragged her away from the courtyard, back into the dark hallways, ignoring her screams and curses. It was mostly for show anyway. As soon as they got out sight, she stopped fighting back.

The wardens looked at each other, surprised. She smirked. The tallest one pushed her forward, hard, visibly unpleased with her little display.

- You got this, 703? asked one of them.

- Yeah yeah. I'll get her to the pit.

- Who is she anyway? I've never seen her!

- Didn't ya read the note this morning? "Special Request" from the Chief.

The small one gulped.

- You sure you got this? She looks...

- Yeah yeah! What is she gonna do ? A Yordle would have more chances than...

Vi didn't let him finish. There was no way in hell she'd let that stupid man think he was better than her. She twisted her hips violently, getting herself out of his grasp, and used the momentum to hook his freaking face with her right fist. Pain exploded in her hand, once again.

Thrown onto the ground, Enforcer 703 tried to understand what had just happened, but Vi had already jumped on him again, hit him twice more, and was now trying to choke the life out of him.

- Who's the fucking Yordle now, you fucking pig? she yelled in his face, as he turned blue.

The two others were quickly upon her, doing their best to break her hold on their colleague.

- You'll see ! You will all see! I'll break you all, and I'll get out of here! I'll get Powder back! You hear me?

- Get that witch out of here! screamed Enforcer 703. Put her in solitary for the week! That should teach her some manners!

Her eyes snapped open. It was dark, but her vision adapted quickly enough so she could start seing shapes and forms in the night.

- Vi... Are you asleep?

She grunted.

- Do you mind if I come down?

- "fcourse not.

A shape moved in the dark, and lied next to her.

- What's on your mind, Cupcake?

Caitlyn had setup a mattress at the feet of her own bed. When she had invited Vi to stay with her at her place, the pink haired woman had hesitated. She didn't have anywhere else to go, but she'd managed, as she always does. Cait almost had to beg. She had to admit that she needed her.

But the first night they spent together, sharing her giant bed, none of them could sleep. Caitlyn was feeling stressed and awkward by having someone lying next to her, wether she could or should touch her, and the mattress was feeling to big, to soft and too squishy for Vi. On the next morning, both of them agreed that a separate bed would be better for their sake. Since the third night, however, Caitlyn often asked permission to join Vi in her bed, and just lie against her, nothing less, nothing more. Just a way to bury her grief and pain in the warmth of someone's arm, just for a few minutes. Vi never refused.

- Do you think we did the right thing? Accepting Jayce's offer?

Vi raised her shoulders.

- Dunno. Maybe? With this kind of ressources, that's probably my best chance to find my sister.

Cait's heart pinched, but she tried to ignore it.

- Where do you want to start then?

Vi sighed. She didn't like her own answer.

- The Prison. We have to go back to Stillwater.

A/N : Hello everyone! Second chapter, because I've never had so many followers/ favourites after a single first chapter. So I didn't want to let you all down, you see? I hope you'll like this one. If you have any feedbacks, ideas, requests, (praises :P), feel free to leave a review =) I'd love to know what y'all think!