“Jack Nine-eyes Was Killed In A Home Invasion Today”

My first day in prison was about the same as anyone else’s lime powder, issued prison cloths, crowded noisy mess hall, & work in the launder room. Then a gang of fags grabbed my arms and led me to a secluded area were they had another guy just transferred today sucking their boss’s cock. They let go of my arms and laughed thinking I only just now knew what they wanted. I took care of the problem. Walking two steps forward I kicked his jaw shut; cutting the dirty bastards bloody dick off.

The same as anyone else’s, well maybe I veered off the beaten path a little.

“Strip him and rape that fucking piece of shit!” Their boss commanded, holding his bloody prostrate, spatial flying between his clinched teeth, & breathing raggedly.

Someone grabbed the neck of my shirt and yanked me backwards. A big bastard in front of me reached for me; I grabbed his wrist pulled down and snapped my knee against his elbow.

SNAP!*

A skinny little shit reached for me too. Dumbass, I broke his arm as well.

Now for this fucker that wont let go of me! I turn awkwardly my shirt pulled tight at my throat, snapping my left arm out ‘Kill Bill’ style, I pluck his eye out.

Four more guys come at me two of them have lead pipes. I decide to try and intimidate them “mm tasty, about supper time isn’t it?” I say this as I plop the eyeball into my mouth.

This enrages them rather than scaring them off I take several hits before four more eyeballs go down the hatch.

I feel like I have a concussion and a few broken ribs. They are all on the floor clutching hollow places that used to hold eyes. I feel that I gave as bad as I got. Maybe I should say I took more than they wanted to give?

That pathetic sap is still sitting on the floor. I think he is in shock because he has yet to spit out the severed cock. “Disgusting!” I say with all the venom that I feel. My voice seems to wake him up and he spits out the filth.

“Stay back! Get away from me!” The newly made eunuch yells.

I had forgotten all about him ‘forgive and forget’ is my policy but now that he has gotten my attention again I remember. This is entirely that fuckers fault he should take responsibility. I walk up too him my shoes splashing in his blood. My arms snap forward but his bloody hands grab my arms preventing me from taking his eyes.

By this point more inmates have come and a hand full of guards. I wrestle my arms free and devour his eyes without thinking. I blame the hits I took on the head for that bit of thoughtlessness. Oh well at least now they wont be able to surgically put them back.

I’m thrown in the hole, not really it’s just a dark cell with proper walls and a door instead bars.

I find my way in the dark to the bed and crash. I tell myself “I like this room, it’s the only place in this whole god dammed over populated playground, dark enough for a man to get some proper sleep.”

I slept for three days, considering I had a concussion I was probably lucky to wake up at all.

That was the first time I peed the bed since I was 8 years old. That was also the first time I had gotten drunk, how was I to know beer went through you so fast?

Getting up on unstable legs I washed the sheet and mattress with water from the sink. Drank all the water I could stomach then propped the mat up in the corner and went back to sleep. About half an hour latter I heard two guards arguing out side my door.

“He hasn’t touched his food in three days! Maybe he died from his injuries.” One said in a shaky voice.

“Put that in there if all the others are still untouched I’ll go get a medic.” A more official sounding voice said.

“And a flashlight, I’m not going in there without a flashlight!” The first speaker screeched.

A metal plate slid open on the bottom of my door and a bowl of oatmeal was thrown in. The plate stayed open for several moments whilst he counted the bowls of dried up oatmeal.

After it slid shut I went and devoured the newest bowl took it to the sink and used it for a glass then relived myself and went back to sleep.

I woke up too a hot hand taking my pulse “he’s alive but his heart beat is slow and he’s really cold and clammy he’ll likely get sick and die if we don’t move him.” A woman said, probably the prison nurse.

“Blast, well can’t be helped bring the stretcher” I got up now fully awake, not wanting them to put their hands on me anymore than this.

“Fucking hell!” five surprised people exclaimed various profanities as though I were a dead man rising from the grave.

I never went back to the cell my good for nothing lawyer was at the prison that day and informed me that the shit-bag who had his dick bit off bled to death and I was being tried for murder… again. The reason I was here in the first place was some high school jock ran a red light at night talking on his cell phone and my commercial transport truck took him out like he weren’t even there. I should have gotten off but there was an open alcohol container in the cab of the truck. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t mine or that I hadn’t had a drink since it was 18 years old and got alcohol poisoning. The community always comes together and goes for the maximum decree when a child dies accident or no. I’m sure it didn’t help that I only cried alone and put up a stoic appearance in public, they said I was remorseless at trial.

This time I really would be.

I slept through most of the court proceedings not even learning my victim’s names. They were trying me for 7 counts of assault and 1 of murder.

“The defense calls Kenneth Archilletta to the stand” my lawyer said. He was a tall hansom man who looked wealthy the sort woman make a big fuss over. Kenneth wore a neck brace and head gear he clearly had the juries sympathy even though I was the one on trial. I heard some women behind me mention how good looking he was, and I instantly hated him.

“Is it true that on the evening of the 21st my client saved your life and spent 3 days in the hole nearly dying without medical treatment for his trouble?” Asked my lawyer, he was a greasy short fat man who really tried, for all the good it did me. It wasn’t until he started questioning him that I recognized Kenneth as the man servicing the fag boss back in prison.

“No. Thanks Jack Nine-eyes I fear for my life on daily basis” said the rotten cock gobbler.

“Nine-eyes?” asked the judge as my lawyer looked on in stunned silence.

“That’s what they are calling him on the inside on account of him having eaten 7 eyes that day.” The courtroom came alive with chatter and my anger exploded.

“Fuck you! You fucking cock gobbler! I did what I had to too survive not everyone can live with themselves servicing a gang of fagots!” I yelled enraged and ready to break the ungrateful bastard’s neck. It doesn’t even have a ring to it; if my name were Nick they’d probably call me Nicky Nine-eyes, better than Jacky I suppose that sounds too much like a girl’s name.

Kenneth had come to trial today to win sympathy for his own case and try to get put in a minimum security prison. He felt justified screwing over Jack because thanks to him the whole prison called him cock gobbler. Not to mention his jaw still hurt something fierce.

Well needless to say I went back to prison. Six days latter I killed two more fagots in the mess hall they were the pair whose arms I broke that first day. They didn’t throw me in the hole this time, mores the pity I could have used the sleep. I felt as though I were slowly descending into hell. No not hot enough to be hell there is always a chill here.

That evening I picked my cell door lock with some chicken bones but they broke in the process, go figure. No way to get through the next door I thought about ambushing the guards when they came through. But scraped that plan .5 seconds in because the other inmates were screaming encouragement as though I were already home free or demanding I get them out too. I thought I couldn’t manage the ambush not having the element of surprise nor the will to kill any guards. Looking all around I noticed the ceiling in the corridor was tile unlike the cement over the cells. I climbed the bars of the nearest cell and broke the fucker’s nose when he grabbed my leg. Pushing the 18in-3ft ceiling tile up and over I was able to get into the crawl space.

A few broken vent covers latter I was over the corridor outside the nurse’s office. I dropped down and was surprised to hear moaning looking in the door-window I seen her getting it on with a guard and two prisoners. My first instinct was too get some more killing done until I heard her cries which included (yes, more, deeper, & faster) I thought dumb bitch! And continued around the corner, I followed three guards into their locker room, knocked them out and left with a new set of cloths and key card.

The exit took a 4 digit combination besides the key card after failing four times I noticed that the moron wrote the combo on the card with a blue pin. A few paces into the parking lot the alarm went off I tried several cars before I found one unlocked. It was a 1983 nova I was prepared to hotwire but fond the key in a purse on the passenger floorboard. The interior clearly marked it as a woman’s vehicle I thought of the nurse because I had already established that she was a dumb bitch nymphomaniac.

As I drove away going the speed limit I kept thinking my luck had run out every time a cop car passed me. After a news van and a couple ambulance passed I got the bright idea to turn the radio on. “Today for the second time two prisoners have been killed! They were shot dead while in the parking lot trying to steal the warden’s hummer.”

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Jack turned the radio down “fuck… I bet that guard and nurse were in on it they were probably supposed to take this car! Bawhahaha”

Two hours latter the news confirmed his suspicions; at least 5 guards and the nurse were explicit in why his escape was so easy. The prisoners had deposited extravagant amounts of money into their bank accounts. The bad news was that his escape was broad cast along with the cars make and model.

The car was about out of gas so I decided to ditch it outside a books store I causally walked in a bought the latest ‘Game Of Thrones’ book.

I guess the series are actually called ‘Song of Ice and Fire’ but who gives a flying… Sorry on with the story. The cashier was a nice helpful old lady so I gave her a five dollar tip. That left me with 45$ the nurse really didn’t spare them much getaway money.

I jogged out of town; nothing like another stolen car to get them hot on my trail. Besides who would expect an escaped prisoner to casually jog down the road? I know I never got any suspicious looks the most attention I got was a wave and friendly smile.

Just before sunset I stopped at a large culvert crossing under the road it was big enough to stand up in. I relaxed reading in the fading light of dusk.

At some point I had fallen asleep only to be woken up about 30min after dark by the yipping sound of coyotes. I procrastinated for a few moments until I heard splashes in the water at the far side of the culvert. Knowing those little bastards would kill me in my sleep if given the chance I climbed back up to the road and continued south.

The annoying little curs wouldn’t let me be they dogged my trail every step of the way. Their yipping sent every dog miles around barking which got more annoying by the minute but gave me an idea of just where all the houses were. As the miles went by they got braver and one even bit my ankle before I smashed his face into the gravel road. I grabbed a handful of gravel & threw at them but they didn’t run much past my limited sight. The next house I seen I ran right up to the porch and a motion sensor light came on.

Knock, Knock, kno… and the door swung an old man placed the barrel of his shotgun at my throat. “Haha pardon the intrusion some coyotes have been pestering me for sometime now I thought I might find a few moments revive.”

He pushed past me to see a few at the edge of the porch’s light and BANG! Didn’t hesitate a second to fire a shot “WHOA” Jack jumped back surprised.

“Blast, I missed by at least five feet I can never seem to hit them unless they are on the porch when I open the door.” Crazy old guy scrunched up his brow and took a few steps towards Jack getting a better look at him. “Got any money?” he asked

“ah… haha… Yeah sure I can spare a few bucks” I replied amicably.

“Well come in if your coming” he said gesturing toward the open doorway.

I’m sweating bullets walking down the hallway with a crazy old guy waddling behind me carrying a confirmed loaded shotgun probably aimed at my back. In the kitchen I stop behind a chair at a small table on queue my stomach growls loudly. Well what the hell he’s already asked for my money may as well see if I can get anything for it.

“You got anything to eat?” I ask cheerfully feeling my string of luck coming to an end.

AN (what was the heading on this story again?)

“Money first” he replied with a scowl. I reached in my pocket and pulled out the 45$ and dropped it on the table just two 20s over a 5 “help yourself.” He said staring at the cash and waving at the refrigerator.

I couldn’t read his expression whether he was disappointed with the measly amount or not. One things for sure it would more than pay for whatever I was likely to eat here. Opening the refrigerator I see a rotisserie chicken lemon flavored. I hear him snatch up the money so I grab the chicken not even looking at the half eaten leftovers on other shelves.

If this is to be my last meal then so be it! I think watching him take a seat with the gun pointed in my general direction.

I sit down and open the package rip a leg off the chicken and start eating it.

“Fancy tastes for someone who eats eyeballs.” He says in a near whisper.

Jack hesitates for a half second shrugs and continues eating “you’d be tempted if you had some of that prison food.”

Ha hahaha

He’s got a sense of humor that can only be a good thing right?

“Was Kenney really a cock g…gob…?” Crazy old guy was searching for the word.

“Gobbler” Jack supplied “yep I kicked him in the jaw. Deepthroat would have been an apt name for him too if he had been seen by everyone with it still in there.” The old man shook his head in disgust.

“I better get going” I said having lost my desire for food remembering the bloody seen.

The old man just nodded his head not watching me leave.

I ran less than a half mile before the coyotes started spooking along just out of sight. They must be really hungry I would have thought the shot would scare them off for good.

“At least they are quiet now” Jack said aloud he talked to himself and the coyotes throughout the night. They had moments of bravery were they would get close but just the one that he had stepped on earlier dared try and bit him again. Walking with the early light of dawn he finally managed to kill it the others quickly turned on it rending its flesh from bone.

A car was pulling up fast behind him but soon slowed down and eventually came to a stop next to him. “I thought I was going to have to save you but they were just eating one of their own.”

“It’s the thought that counts. They were getting on my last nerve. I ended up having to kill one to get them to leave me alone.” I said exasperated.

“Wow… they were really after you hum? I have heard of them taking peoples small pets at parks and rest stops but I’ve never known them to go after a human. Get in I’m going your way anyway and I’m sure you could use a rest.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, shame you didn’t come a bit sooner I hate to have had to kill it.” Jack said though as he got in and pulled up his pant leg; seeing half a dozen bloody spots he was pretty sure he wasn’t sorry at all for killing the little shit.

As she drove down the road he fell asleep right away and didn’t wake until the car came to a stop.

I wake up in what I assume is her garage and she is directing a blushing smile at me. “Come inside I have some peroxide for those bites. Unless you think you need a shot for rabies.”

“Cleaning them should be fine thanks” I replied glad that she didn’t bring me to a hospital.

Her house is big and painstakingly clean I’m all too aware that I smell like sweat as she keeps throwing me glances over her shoulder along the way.

She gets a first aid kit smiles and laughs devilishly “be sure to tell me if this hurts!”

“I think you are enjoying the prospect of causing me pain a little too much” I reply showing my false fear mockingly.

We setup in the living room; she starts dabbing at my wound delicately with moist gauze.

I sigh and look away pretending I don’t feel a thing. This prompts her to use a much bigger surface area and she slaps it against the worst wound. “Ah…! You’re a cruel, cruel woman!” I yell jerking my leg away from her.

She laughs like a reviler on new-years night dropping the gauze & placing her hand on her hart feeling it beat with a shocked look on her face. “You scared me half to death, let’s do it again. Mahahaha” She faked an evil laugh getting gauze for more of what has became her favorite game.

After the pain game is over I get up and plan to go get some more rest but she has other plans. Standing in front of me blocking my way she pulls her shirt off over her head. Her perk breasts have my full and undivided attention I instantly become hard her infectious smile reaches from ear to ear as she notices.

I chase her to the shower as we remove our cloths the water starts off ice cold but we can’t be bothered to care. I test the limits of her flexibility placing one foot on my shoulder making her support herself with the other.

She fucks like a champion; we go four times back to back in two hours before her belly starts making funny sounds. As she leaves me on the bed to go make breakfast my stomach growls so loud that she falls down laughing.

I take a short cat nap no more than fifteen minutes before going to join her. On my way to the kitchen I see some airport baggage with the name Susan; I laugh a little realizing we haven’t even shared this basic information with each other. In the kitchen there is a great big breakfast for two ready hearing the TV I look around for her.

On the living room television there are two pictures of me one in profile… my heart skips a beat looking around I see Susan scrunched up in a corner with the telephone to her ear and an old revolving pistol leveled at me. My face fills with concern for her I take a step towards her and hear a shot I look down and feel blood running from my stomach down my leg. I take an unsteady step forward and another blast hits my chest knocking me off my feet.

So that really was my last meal! My thoughts disjuncture in my last moments and the light dims forever more.

Or dose it?