Rick Cross's Story

Rain poured down on that dark March day as Rick was veiwing it from out of the ships window. He was a major offender, and thus sat in a secluded part of the boat. Rick looked around at the same scene he has looked at for hours. He jingled his chains as they were fastened around every part of his body that could be used as a weapon; he looked at the officers guarding the door in front of him with his heartless eyes. This was responded by the officer scoffing and starting the same rant as he has been preaching for the last two hours. So he started again in his average voice, which was lined with aggravation.

“You know you’re worthless! Lucky you at least someone will clean up the trash on this island. How does it feel to kill someone you son of a bit-“

The second guard butted in cutting him off mid sentence. The second guard looked sleepy, his mustache dropped and his eyes sagged as he said “Give it a rest let’s just give the dirt bag his boat trip and leave him to rot.”

The first guard cut in again, being much younger and energetic. Rick still looked out the window utterly ignoring them as he sat on his metal chair.

“You know what Tim? Not this time. This piece of garbage is pissing me off! He doesn’t even have the decency to look at me!” Outraged, the first guard rushed at Rick, Tim trying to hold him back but failed. The first guard punched Rick in the face. Nose bleeding Rick stood up and looked at the man, relatively small compared to Rick. The guard was roughly 5”11 and Rick was 6”2. Rick tried with all of his might to charge at him, but only managed a taunting motion. Eyes filled with rage, muscles tensed he stared the man down.

Upon this the guard ran back, scared out of his wits and grinned as Tim said

“Jesus Vick you’re a lunatic, lucky this loser can-“

Rick cut Tim off and said in his low rumbling voice

“You know, while you tuck your kids in tonight think of me because as soon as I get off this fucking island I’m going to kill your entire family, make you watch and then lock you in your own basement with their corpses.”

Vick, the first cop gripped his gun and said

“Threatening a police officer? You’re not in the position to do that my friend.”

Vick was scared obviously, but was confident in the chains, as he walked over and drew his gun going to pistol whip Rick, the second officer, Tim grabbed him and said

“I’m sure the station’d like to hear about this Private!”

Vick tensed up, and walked away breathing heavily as the intercom came on and in a distorted squeaky manor ringed
“All prisoners are to leave the boat now, officers stationed around the boat will guide you what to do and where to go. Any non compliant prisoners will be punished; any violent acts will be dealt with by removal. Thank you and be safe.” The intercom ended with an unpleasant crack as Rick was grabbed by both arms and walked out of the room. The narrow corridor was filled with inmates and was plain and orderly as doors lined every nook and cranny. Rick could hear a prisoner scream, and located the origin watching the scene play out saw a man kicking and punching

“Please no! Please no! No no no!” Guards grabbed him and one of them yelled

“Remove him!” as he was thrown back into the cell several guards walked in also bolting the door behind them, Rick could still make out muffled screams. The rest of the extraction was fairly easy, and quick. He never knew what happened to that man but didn’t really care. Stepping out onto the island he was one of the last, the cesspool of inmates growing and growing. Officer Vick shoved him off the boat, not helping with the unbuckling process as his hands were chained to his legs. After about twenty minutes they pulled the walkway and set off. Watching the boat sail off only for a moment as an inmate shoved him from behind, losing his balance he almost fell off the dock.

The Mexican angrily said “Watch it grandpa who you think you’re messin’ with?”

Enraged he grabbed the man by the chest and threw him off of the dock yelling

“SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!” Storming off Rick saw the chaos already started in the cesspool of inmates, not paying attention he bumped into a man with tribal tattoos.

After walking around for a while he was trying to find a place to make his. He knew that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the other prisoners because of the possibility of his death in his sleep. Eventually he sat down somewhere to the far left of the dock, getting the feeling that someone was watching him.

“Hey I saw what you did to my homie back there compadre.” Said a voice with a strong Mexican accent as his friend chimed in
“We saw.” Looking back Rick saw four Mexicans, the tallest one was taller than Rick, and was about 6’4 he was covered in tattoos and was wielding a pipe he was a giant; muscles budging and tense. The smaller man to his left was about 5”9 had chains wrapped around his knuckles and supported four tears on his face, and then he saw a familiar face. The man who he threw off of the dock was there, about 5”11 normal build and supported two tears on his face. Finally he saw the last one which seemed to be the ring leader. He was lean and not particularly muscular; he had four tears on each side of his scared face. The ring leader spoke up in a strong accented deep voice

“You don’t mess with us holmes, there is no cops anymore.”

The taller one spoke in an equally accented voice, and ridiculously deep
voice
“We are gonna beat you to death white boy!”

Rick looked at them, swiveling on the ground he sat on
“Really?” Rick started to laugh when the one he threw in the water charged at him. Rick got up and stood there. The Mexican started to punch Rick everywhere and then stopped and yelled in a displeased voice

“Help me!”

They all ran over, the giant one let out a yell and swung the pipe at Rick, who ducked, face starting to curl in a grimace watched the pipe fly into one of his friend’s stomachs. They let out a yell

“God damn it!”
Rick was distracted, looked back at the others and was slammed in the face by the small one. Rick went into a full rage and tackled the man making him punch himself in the mouth screaming

“Eat it, eat it, eat it!” as the big one kicked Rick off, and with a loud thump Rick slammed on the ground. All of the group ran over and started kicking and punching Rick. Rick grabbed one of their feet and took a chunk out of their leg, and in a scream the man fell backwards in horror.

Badly beaten Rick stood up as the man distracted the group with his screams of pain, Rick grabbed the ringleader and threw him on the ground, which was replied to by a jarring hit to the face which Rick ignored as he started to bash his head into the ground.
The big Mexican slammed the pipe into Rick side and he landed feet away. One down three to go, Rick got up and jumped at the big Mexicans face, clinging on no matter how hard they tried to pull him off he stayed there punching him as hard as he could. Rick was hit in the back with a chain by the disabled Mexican and fell off.

Bloody and hurt the big Mexican angrily charged at Rick with the pipe swinging, as Rick tripped him. Tumbling and rolling he laid on the ground face first. Other Mexicans charging at him as Rick grabbed the pipe and swung it at the ringleader who dodged it and slugged him in the face. Landing a kick on the ringleader Rick was grabbed from behind and responded by kicking him off and swinging the pipe successfully at his face.

One left. The ring leader ran back to his fallen friend and grabbed the chain; Rick followed and was slashed by the chain directly on his chest. In a frenzy Rick rushed the ringleader and was hit again on the face, but this time grabbed the chain and started wrapping it around his knuckles. Pulling with all of his might the ringleader was only drawn in closer and closer to Rick who when in swinging range slammed the pipe against the ringleaders head. Staggering back Rick jumped on him and started beating him with his chained knuckles as he yelled

“DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE” Rick then dragged the bodies to the side of the dock and threw them in.

Badly injured Rick sat down feet hanging off of the edge as a battle raged in his mind

I told you not to throw him off of the dock!

Rick said out loud “It doesn’t matter their all dead!”

No they aren’t at least two of them are alive.

“They will be soon.”

We are a peice of shit you know?

“SHUT UP” Rick yelled as he hit himself in the face.

“I’m hungry.”

I’m disgusting he replied in his mind.

I don't belong here... Cordelia thought as she surveyed the yard. Males outnumbered females at a 5 to 1 ratio, everyone seemed bigger, and stronger than she was and not one of them looked like they had enough common sense to figure their way out of a clear tarp.

"And here I am serving a life sentence." Cordelia said to her self with an exasperated sigh as she reached for a pack of smokes she'd charmed off one of the guards, lit it and and took a lengthy inhale.

Not too long after a fight broke out between a group of Latino men and a pretty intimidating 6'2 white man. First blood... Cordelia said with a wry smirk as she watched the scuffle play out. It was quickly escalating to more than a fist fight.

"Die, Die, Die!" She heard the man scream as he assaulted the men with no restraint. There was no way in hell she was sticking around for the outcome of his rampage. She quickly drowned out the screams and jeers and made her way to the compound where she hoped to find a hot meal and a place to escape the madness of the yard.

Matthew was one of the first to arrive at Building 01. He trudged through the doubledoors, their hinges squeaking loudly.
Jesus, it's like a horror movie, he thought, trying to suffocate the thoughts of his family. Every Wednesday they would curl up on their filthy, old couch and watch one together.
Nothing scared him anymore.
"Ay, any grub?" He shouted into the cafeteria. His words echoed and bounced off the pristine walls.
The whole place was sterile and clean, giving it all the atmosphere and appeal of the terminal ward of a hospital.
He walked towards the back, to the industrial kitchen. Pots, pans, bowls, plates, utensils, ovens, microwaves,fridges: everything needed to cook was there.
Yet, there was no food in sight.
His stomach growled at the dark thought coiling up in his stomach, winding it's way around his intestines.
Did...did they leave us here to starve?
Just as he started to panic, he noticed a note taped to the freezer door.
He snatched it off, quickly skimming the contents:
"Dear Inmates,
All the resources needed are provided by the island itself.
Make due."
It was signed in official, loopy handwriting at the bottom.
He tensed, his fingers crinkling the paper.
You've got the be fuckin kidding me. Make due? You condemn us to an island and tell us to make due?!
Matthew screamed in rage, shoving all the pots off the table in one quick motion.
They crashed and banged loudly, satisfying his lust for chaos and revenge somewhat.
At least for now.

Rick busted into the cafeteria. Pain writhed through him, which was unusual. He must have been hurt bad. He saw there was a man appearing to be having a fit. Rick yelled
“Shut the hell up.”
And continued on walking in, looking for any trace of a cafeteria worker or a meal.

After the bloody display in the yard Cordelia walked in the direction of the Cafeteria right on the tails of another inmate who she noted looked a little less harmless than most of Orphanos population, and she was thankful for it. Finding someone sane was immediately a priority after she spent the boat ride there sizing everyone up, the prospects were grim.

The two walked through sterile halls and through the double doors into the Cafeteria to find it completely void of staff or anyone at all. The girl was infinitely disappointed that she couldn't smell even the slightest trace of cooking. There was nothing she wanted more in the world (other than being released from Orphanos) than a plate of flapjacks and maple syrup.

"Ay, any grub!" The man yelled, expectantly waiting for a reply but none came. Soon enough his attention was diverted to a note taped to the freezer. Cordelia could barely make out the words he mumbled as he read the note but a few were perfectly audibly. Make due. Everything went dead silent for a beat. Those fucking bastards... Delia thought as she clenched her fists in a mixture of bubbling rage and disbelief... This can't be right.

The brunette man screamed in a fit of rage as he pushed his hands across the counter sending pots and pans flying in every direction.

"Shut the hell up!" A man hollered as he entered the mess hall; it was the ruthless greasy haired inmate from earlier.

"Heh, a bit hypocritical don't you think?" Delia mumbled sarcastically as she thought back to the terrible row he'd caused not to long ago. Can't take the heat? Stay out of the kitchen.

I'm not letting you fuck this up to! Rick said in his mind as the nicer Rick took over, fighting all the way.

"NO NO NO!" Rick yelled in his gruff voice, as he changed.

"Ugh wow... Hey guys whats up, whats the situation on the food." Rick said in a much younger and kinder voice as he stepped forward, side writhing in pain.

"Ah..."

The nicer Rick thought to himself Yes finally! I have taken control! as the other evil Rick added MOTHER FUCKER NOT FOR LONG! AHhhh!

What the hell is wrong with this guy? Delia thought as the bloodied man instantaneously changed his demeanor; taking a step forward, now asking what was going on with the food situation. Delia took a wary step back, she didn't trust him in the slightest.

"Not much. We're on our own, but I'm sure that won't be any problem for you though." Delia said alluding to the fight. It was pretty apparent he wasn't trying to make friends. It seemed his strategy was to be feared, she found it weak. She watched as he contorted his body in pain at the injuries he'd withstood. She couldn't find it in her to offer him help, not after what he did to those men; even if they did deserve it.

"What's your names..." She asked, curiously. What she was itching to ask was why they got thrown onto the island, but she knew that that was a taboo question ask. But there was nothing Delia loved more than a good secret, she'd collected a lot of them over the years in her line of work.

(Post if you want, if you think this is not sufficient let me know and I'll work on it! :] Thanks.)

"Ricks my name." he said as he limped over to the rest of them.

"What...in the fuck?" Matthew seethed. His mood was lethal.
Suddenly there were people everywhere, shouting. Asking questions. Bothering him in general.
He squeezed his fists together tightly, like his brother used to show him.
Count to ten, he'd say in his best shrink voice, in his best shrink suit. Looking down on the rest of the family, with his 'better than thou' tone and shitty advice.
He missed him. Which only made him more irritable.
"Matthew," He said. He looked the girl up and down. She was tatted, like him. Cute, he thought. She'll have trouble around here, looking like that. As for the other guy, he had no patience for him at the moment. His blood was boiling as it is.
"There's no fuckin' food," He shook his head. "There must be crops or somethin'," He said hopefully. Anything would do.
Just then the rest of the prisoners were drearily filing in, looking around and talking loudly to each other.
He was not going to stick around and be the bearer of bad news.
He walked past the others swiftly, his working boots scuffing the linoleum.
The night was falling fast, and apparently the food situation would have to wait.
There were boundaries to be made.
~~~~~~~~
The lower and middle white supremacists took the east wing of this particular building, most of the black middle class in the west, the middle just-plain-whites took the area nearest to the doors(Matthew's area), and varies races of hardcore thugs took the cafeteria, dragging beds by their frames, the metal scraping waking him up every so often.
"What's wrong with the rooms?" He asked his friend James, who he had known from Boston.
He shrugged his shoulders, his tattoos flexing, "Cafeteria's bigger. I don't fuckin' know. Just have to be with the gang, ya know? Me, personally, would rather be in the female's building," He laughed, lifting up his bed.
"You be good now, ya hear, Matty?" He said, ruffling his hair. "I'll look out for you, just like I told your momma I would."
"Thanks bruh," He said sadly.
Matthew fell asleep sprawled on top of the thin, cheap blanket that came on the bed.
His dreams were of his family and homemade chicken Alfredo.

As the days dragged on he healed, but still was in pain. He had stolen a bed, as the evil Rick took over once more and was now resting in a secluded area behind the area the prison that was mostly rundown and woodlands.

"I'm Cordelia, Delia for short." The girl said as she looked around at the steady stream of inmates filing in. She spotted a few of her clients in the mix, and one of the girls she'd worked with.

The men replied; One went by Matthew, the other, Rick. Cordelia watched as the guy by the name of Matthew gave her an appraising glance. Typical... she thought. She was jaded to all the looks and cat calls, it came with the territory and the best she could do was to use it to her favor.

Soon enough inmates started flocking into the mess hall in search of food. There was sure to be an uproar when they discovered that they were being pretty much left to starve.

"Well, that's my cue to leave. It was nice meeting you." Cordelia said as she sauntered out of the room, her long brown hair swaying as she went. It was getting dark, and sleep was Delia's number one priority at this moment. In the female building the dorms were already at max capacity; women brought spare mattresses in the corridors and were packed together like sardines in a can.

"There is no way in hell..." Cordelia spoke as she looked around at the cramped space and cringed at the intolerable din.

"May!" Delia heard a girl call from behind her.

"Chris!" Cordelia said with a smile as she did a 180. A girl with half blonde and black hair, hazel eyes and a freckled complexion sat in a spacious storage room that was comfortably filled with cots, blankets and a few other women who Delia knew from back in New York.

"We saved you a cot." She said with a smile.

Punching the ground in fury Rick replied to the voice in his head "Come on let me kill!" which was replied to by the voice in his head yelling no, The voice said ok ill make you a deal, when I get angry I will let you take over? Rick instantly stopped punching and weighed the options "So no more fighting for control?" No. Rick smiled at the proposition. But while you take over I will tell you who its ok to kill or do whatever. Ok? "Great idea!" Rick said in his menacing voice as he switched over.

"Alright lets go see whats going on with our new friends." Rick said as he walked to the area he last saw them.

Rick was in the Major Building now, seeing no sign of anyone he had previously encountered. He wasn't too hungry, as he had been living on traps he set up around his place of residence.

Rick muttered under his breath “Damn.” As he continued on looking for anyone, by now most of the prisoners have heard about what happened to the Mexicans, and stayed away. Of course there is always going to be a daredevil trying to screw around but no one wanted to fight him.

He still was in pain, as the internal damage must have been severe. He knew he could pull through; still searching getting slightly pissed off at seeing no sign of them, he walked up to a group of people playing cards. They looked at him and the smallest one spoke, in a rat like voice

“What do you want hotshot?”

Which came out nasally which was replied to by Rick putting his boot in the middle of their card game and hoisting himself up, looking around and then deciding to yell

“I’m looking for a Matt, and uhhh… Cordeila? Cordila? Screw it Cordaila.” In shock the other prisoners were yelling at him and swearing, Rick climbed down and was meet by a group of angry guys all protesting

“You ruined the card game ya’ jagoff!” Yelled a worn voice as Rick tried to be civil, but couldn’t stop it. Come on! You told me when you’re angry! Yours really angry right now… NOW NOW NOW! Rick surged and his demeanor changed and he let out a rattling raspy voice

“Come here hotshot.” And slugged him in the face, and the fight ensued.

Regaining control, he sighed as he looked at the men laying on the ground and said

"I'v got some food, and a camp out back by the woods."

Not relizing how bad it sounded.