Microfiction: Bloodshed

The prison was darkly lit, a lonesome light fixture flickered above, casting a lifeless shadow on the floor. Countless people wandered around it, violence in their eye and unhappiness and disenchantment all around. One inmate sat on a rotting wooden bench, fidgeting with his fingers. Whilst watching. He felt something slightly sharp poke him. All he could do was smile and know that he was doing right for his murdered brother. At the other side of the room a tall, coloured man with an afro wandered about reimagining what happened several months ago. Few knew who it was and he felt good that he knew who the perpetrator was it gave him reaffirmation that he could make it through the next seven years without any of that heinous shit he was told about happening, he was in with people that could protect him and he felt like h could hold his own.

The man on the bench- Mikey got up and wandered over to the coloured guy- Deon; the scene from several months ago, birthed a sequel and it was damn brutal. Blood went everywhere, Deon managed a squeal as the shiv was pushed deeper and deeper into him. Very few people reacted and life continued in the prison, it continued without Deon though as he lay dying on the floor. Mikey had left long before the prison wardens came running in. Looking down at the pool of blood they trudged through to get to Deon. It was a fucked sight that they had become used to.

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