The news went across the prison like wild fire, catching on bars and cell walls. 

Prisoners whispering from block to block and soon the guards had to start hitting bars with strong metal, screaming order! But it never worked. The prison still needed a quench to get out of this violent blaze. 

The noise went from bars to bars and it got worse when Luta was pulled across the corridor. 

He smelled like bad egg, his hair falling off on his face as he blew it away, keeping it from getting into his mouth. 

He was smashed on his side, punches kept coming at his face as he was thrown into the open. 

The bearded guard closed up the gap between himself and Luta. Grabbing him by his shoulder, he pulled at his shirt and then let go as quick as he had grabbed him. Before Luta could lift his chin in defense, the guard pulled at his shirt a second time with more force. He ripped his shirt off, exposing his ragged skin. Scars ran across his back, as bruises held tight to his skin. 

Luta tried to protest and a tightened fist came at him from no where, cutting through his air. It swung at his chin and sent him crashing, face into the ground. 

Dust rose in excitement, bones cracking and cheers for a rise came like a roar off the prison blocks in the corridor. 

The door was yanked open and a tall jailer stepped in. Light flooded the prison hall, a part of it cutting through the corridor. He had a bunch of keys, dangling at his side. He adjusted his cap and as he moved closer to Luta, he lowered his height for a squat and he spat on Luta's face. 

The noise from the prison blocks kept coming and he looked away in anger, his eyes plunging through the long corridor that separated cells from the other part of the prison. He knew the problem from there, they could see what was happening. 

He motioned a guard to go for the monitor box. 

"Pull that down", he said. 

The guard with thick beards and thin structure moved for the monitor box. A lot of switch and buttons were installed. 

Sweat rolled down from his forehead and temple to the ground. 

Another guard came around, grabbed a switch and pulled it down. 

The guard looked around feeling the relief that unclenched his gut. He looked over to the Jailer with the cap and he frowned hearing his pronouncement.

"You are fired", the jailer said. 


That block of the prison had already been embraced with a confident hush. A gate separated where the jailer and the guard stood from the prison blocks which had been plunged into darkness.  

"Throw him in the pit and prepare him for execution on Friday." 

The jailer said and he left. 

That was four more days. Luta wished it was shorter. He knew he had disappointed his gang. Same gang who would just work up his replacement and let him die in peace. 

But he still felt he had betrayed them by being careless.