Chapter Six

With exhaustion from the awakening hitting me, Sorel’s last statement lingered on my mind until I fell asleep. I learned overnight that the soul bell rang at the head of every hour but thundered at a much louder frequency every six hours. After I was jolted awake at midnight by the six-hour bell, which I nicknamed “thunder bell”, I couldn’t fall back asleep.

Once I accept that my fate is sealed, I begin wondering what Sorel meant by many things he mentioned during our conversation, especially his final words. Rubbing my hands along Mom’s mitered square, I ponder about a lot throughout the night... Mom, Eric, Kavi, Sorel, iris, the warden, the duels. The duels... something about the duels just felt off, so I mentally prepared myself to be ready for anything, even if it meant dirtying my hands.

I need answers. That much is clear.

My not-so-joyous cellmate remained fast asleep throughout the midnight bell, a tell of a seasoned inmate, I suppose. I often considered if I should wake her to ask some questions... but opted against it every time.

She may be annoying, but I'd rather keep it that way than make things worse. I can always wait until morning.

***

I fell back asleep at some point, only to be awoken by the next thunder bell at six in the morning. It quickly became apparent that many inmates chose to wake up for the day at six.

I also learned that our cells don’t get unlocked for breakfast until seven, and the hushed conversations only grew louder over the next hour. With only around five minutes left until seven, the noise level made it clear that most people were wide awake.

And that’s when I decided I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Hey, I know you're up,” I say, my voice deep and raggedy from not speaking yet.

I wait a few seconds, no response. Standing up, I walk over to my cellmate’s bed and say, “Answer me.”

There is no response again, so I flick my cellmate on the cheek. She flinches and grimly opens her eyes.

“I have some questions,” I say, pushing up my shirt to reveal the under-armor I’m wearing.

After looking at my armor, she closes her eyes again, “You don’t want to know.”

“I think, for your sake, I do want to know.”

Taking a deep breath through her nose, my cellmate reopens her eyes and sits up, “Are you sure about that?”

My expression remains grim as I crack my knuckles, “Just so we’re on the same page, you have to answer my questions.”

She studies me for a moment before rising to her feet. Looking down at her, her gaze is as unwavering as her will is strong. Her eyes then flash a pale green glow as she grips the middle of my shirt and lifts me into the air.

“Still wanna know?”

Initially shocked by her strength, I quickly grab her wrist, my eyes flashing a blend of sky blue and white as I heat up my hand, “If it means getting out of here, then yes. I want to know everything.”

Staring each other down for a few seconds, my cellmate drops me back to the ground and sits on her bed again.

Sitting on my bed, I say, “Sorel told me that we all have iris. Is that true? How do we master it?”

“Not so fast. If you want information, you have to prove your worth.”

I click my tongue, “‘Course I do.”

“Since you don’t know a thing about iris, I’m currently stronger than you, even with our armor on. I have no reason to give away information if it’s not to my benefit.”

I scoff, “Figures, what do I have to do to prove my worth?”

“Not much. Just keep your mouth shut today, and I’ll fill you in by lights out.”

“What’s your problem? Why can’t you just tell me?”

“What? The task I gave you is easy. Like it or not, you’re competition. I need to know if I can rely on you moving forward before giving away something as valuable as information.”

“First your name, your crime, and now this. If you want to piss me off, you’re doing a great job. All you are is a problem, aren’t you?”

My cellmate sneers and looks away, “If anybody is being a problem, it’s you.”

After she lies back down in her bed facing the other way, I leave her be. Guards begin to come by each cell and make morning roll calls. Once it’s almost our turn to be inspected, my cellmate gets out of bed and stands beside it. The two of us make eye contact, and she gestures for me to stand up.

Following her lead, I stand beside my bed as a pair of guards unlock our cell from the outside. Entering our cell, they pat us both down, check if our armor is on, and inspect the cell before moving on to the next.

“Thanks for the warning,” I say, hearing a guard yell at an inmate next door to stand up.

She doesn’t say anything as she makes her bed.

Making mine as well, I say, “Silent treatment again?”

“I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut,” she says before exiting the cell.

Stopping at the open cell door, she looks back at me and adds, “Don’t try to follow me. And make your bed better.”

As she leaves, I mumble while looking at my poorly made bed, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

***

After the morning roll call and inspection, our cells remain open, and we can leave and head to the mess hall for breakfast.

After hiding my token in a safe spot, I find an open gap between the inmates passing by and follow the crowd toward what I presume to be the mess hall.

She might be difficult to talk to, but I’m definitely going to follow her advice. It’s my first official day here… making enemies wouldn’t be ideal.

Looking out at the sea of inmates, my thoughts wander elsewhere.

So... all of these people possess an ability like me?

Arriving at the mess hall, guards stand along the room's perimeter, and two long single-file cafeteria lines are on either side of the hall. Joining the shorter line, I try to locate my cellmate while inching forward, but she’s nowhere to be found.

It doesn't help that everybody in the room is wearing the same clothes we are. Mistaking another person for my cellmate might be an accident, but who knows what they'll do. I have to be sure it is her before deciding to do anything. And even then, she told me not to follow her.

Grabbing a tray, I follow the people shuffling to the right. From the inmates working on the other side, I receive a scoop of cold green peas, a small serving of scrambled eggs, a slice of bread, and some plastic utensils.

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At the end of the line is a separate counter that offers various drinks. I ended up getting a milk carton.

I can see the lack of appeal, but back home, we couldn’t even afford food for breakfast.

Turning around to face the rest of the mess hall, I'm suddenly hit with another problem I hadn’t considered.

Shoot… where do I sit?

Because of the people behind me, I didn't have time to stand there and think about it.

Walking down the middle aisle between the rows of tables on either side, the tables stretch to the end of the hall, and many inmates are already seated.

Looking to my left, the closest table to the cafeteria line is completely empty except for one Asian woman occupying it. She is sitting on top of the table, her back against a pillar and her forearm resting against her bent knee. Her tray of food is set on the table beside her.

Perhaps it is the nonchalant position she is seated in, the fact that she is alone, or the distinct presence she gives off, but for some reason, I begin to sweat as a singular thought floods my mind.

She’s… strong.

Taking the hint from the rest of the room and passing by her, I continue looking down the rows of tables for my cellmate.

I know she said to stay away, but sitting alone is risky. Even she should know that.

As I pass by rows of people, dozens of expressions blur into my mind. A few snickers, others blank, some avoiding my gaze. I can tell they all thinking the same thing. My height might be good for many things, but I stick out like a sore thumb when it comes to first impressions.

I’m a fish out of water, and these inmates have recognized that I am a fresh arrival at Soulbell.

***

Finding an empty table toward the back of the mess hall, I sit on the backside to face most of the room and inmates in front of me. There are a few tables with small groups of people behind me, but I am willing to give up my line of sight of those few in favor of the many.

As I eat, more inmates find their way to the backside of the mess hall, and my once-empty table is soon full of people. Luckily, nobody sits next to or across from me, which I am relieved about.

It’s bland, but the food ain’t bad.

Pushing away my plate, I haven't noticed three guys have snuck their way over to my table. Two are massive in height and physique, while the third is a little shorter but appears more athletic and leaner. The lean guy is in the front and has a burn scar along his jaw. As they all sit near me, the other people seated at the table quickly get up and scurry away.

Great, I’m sure this’ll go well.

Sitting beside me, the lean man wraps his arm around my neck. His grasp is solid but still offers me the ability to break free. Meanwhile, his two associates sit across from me, their weight slightly tilting the table toward them.

“How’d your first day go, fish? Liking it here?” asks the lean man.

As I thought, a “fish” must be someone new.

Remaining calm and taking a sip from my milk carton, I reply, “It’s not too bad. What about you?”

I lock eyes with the lean man, “You like it here?”

He smirks and looks at his two friends, who start chuckling. Raising his left hand to point at me, I notice an amber ring netted around his index finger.

Reeling me in a little closer, the man says under his breath, “I like you. How ‘bout you come sit at our table?”

Transferring my gaze from the lean man to his two goons, I quickly analyze other people's faces in the background. Around half look at us scornfully, while the other half ignore our conversation.

Definitely looks like these guys have made a name for themselves for causing trouble, but… I don’t have any relationships with anybody here. Being stuck on the outside could make me an easy target, and I’ve been given an easy opportunity, an invitation, to work my way in. No matter which answer I give him, I make an enemy out of somebody. This is the right choice. I just need to be cautious.

“Good with me,” I say nonchalantly, pushing the man's arm off my shoulder. “Lead the way.”

Snickering, the man rises off the bench, “Smart choice.”

Standing beside him, I grab my plate, but the lean man grabs my arm.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” he says to me before turning to somebody nearby and ordering them to clean up the mess.

They hesitate, and the massive goons crack their knuckles behind us, which gets them moving. While the goons stay behind to ensure the person cleans up my tray, the lean man and I make our way through the mess hall. Passing by hundreds of hateful, nasty glares, I spot my cellmate hiding at the end of a table. We make brief eye contact, and she slightly shakes her head. It isn’t a spiteful shake. It is more like a warning.

The goon’s table is a few rows from the cafeteria line, more toward the front than the middle. Only brawny men are sitting at the table, each appearing as a slightly different variation of the two goons that had accompanied the lean man earlier.

“Welcome back, boss!”

“Boss, you go fishin’ again?”

“Looks like you caught a beaut’ this time, boss!”

So all these human goliaths call this scarred guy the boss…?

Sitting down at the end of the table, the boss pats on the bench. Taking my place beside him, the goons continue to banter, cackle, and throw statements the boss's way.

“Why’d you recruit a new one, boss?”

“Yeah! You sure about this boss?”

Raising his hand, the commotion abruptly stops. From rowdy racket to silence in a second.

“You all know I’ve always had a good nose for finding new recruits,” he says. “It’s why you all are here, right?”

Merry words start as quickly as they die out, the goons shushing each other.

“Don’t you guys smell it?” the boss asks, a grin creeping up as he taps his nose. “This fish here is a gold mine!”

The entire table bursts out into laughter, chaotic uproar sparking new conversations.

“That’s our boss for ya!”

“The fish is gonna do great things!”

Words blend into indiscernible noise, and I look back to see the two goons from before returning to the table. The boss glances at them, and they give him a curt nod. Raising his hand again, the boss demands silence once more. A sour taste fills my mouth.

They’re like pets.

Focusing his attention back on me, the boss asks, “What’s your name, fish?”

“What’s in it for me?” I counter after a pause, not looking away from the boss.

The table hums in awe at my confidence, and the boss rattles his hand in the air, quieting them.

Smirking at me, the boss says, “You’re gonna fit in well here. Tall, strong. But I’ll tell ya now, if you don’t give us a name, we give one to you. Ain’t that right, Princess?”

The table bursts into another unruly state of laughter. All the goons eye one of their own, and a man with a buzz cut shakes his head.

“I don’t even have long hair anymore!” he says, his obvious resentment only fueling the fire.

The boss guffaws in amusement at Princess before looking back at me.

“Well?”

“The name’s Mateo. Yours?”

The table hushes down, and the boss doesn’t lose his smirk, “Boss. Call me boss.”

I shake my head, “Not happening.”

The boss looks out at his goons, eyes wide.

Is it genuine shock or an act? Screw trying to play it safe, I’m not calling anyone “boss” anymore. And there’s no chance I will do anything for this guy and his crew.

His gaze falls back on me, and the smirk is gone as he asks, “Come again?”

Standing up, I loudly ask, “What makes you the boss here?”

The lively mess hall starts to die down as people take notice of my question.

The woman with a table to herself watches on, wondering what will happen next. A pair of guys a few tables down also seem particularly interested, and out of the corner of her eye, my cellmate observes from afar. A direct challenge to the goons was uncommon, especially toward the boss, and my direct confrontation grabbed everybody’s attention.

Satisfied with myself, I turn and begin to leave, but a hand grabs the back of my shirt. I’m spun back around, now face to face with the boss.

Or… not so. I stand a few inches taller than him, and if he is embarrassed by that, he is hiding it well.

As for myself, I don’t try to hide what I’ve noticed, and my grin stretches from ear to ear.

Chuckling to himself, perhaps to douse his internal embarrassment, the boss mutters, “What makes me the boss?”

He puts his hands to his chest, “I’m the boss because I’m the strongest guy around.”

Licking his lips as he turns away from me, the boss voices to the crowd, his arms wide, “Who here would like to see a special duel tonight?!”

A duel?

The goons cheer, and whether the rest of the room feels threatened or just wants to see where this is going, they start cheering, too. Before long, the hall is roaring like an arena. Even some of the guards look like they are adding to the uproar.

“Luckily for you all, my next match is booked for today!” yells the boss. Another wave of roars thunders off the walls as the goons start drumming the table. Strutting around the mess hall, the boss taps a finger to his head, closes his eyes, and shakes his finger in the air.

“You know, I was wondering all night who my opponent might be today! All night! I didn’t want to pick one of you! Because I love you all!”

Yeah, right.

The boss turns back around and walks over to me, “But today, we have ourselves a volunteer! Ain’t that right, Mateo?!”

So, he can choose his opponent...

The boss faces the crowd, “This fish is fresh outta water, but he has the balls to take me on! Commend him! Come on! I want to hear it! He should hear it! It’s an honor!”

He begins pumping his fist in the air, “Mateo! Mateo! Mateo!”

As the mess hall chants my name, my confidence starts to dwindle. The sullen feeling that I’ve made a grave mistake sinks in.

This is Soulbell, the prison for our most dangerous criminals, and I’ve just become the most popular guy in less than a day.

The boss comes back over and puts his hand on my shoulder, still addressing the crowd, “You’re all invited tonight! Mateo, let’s have ourselves a proper duel!”

The crowd cheers and chants my name even louder. As they chant, the boss leans over and whispers in my ear, “Don’t look so stressed. This is going to be your first and last duel. This attention, the people, the… honor to fight me. You should enjoy today, because you won’t be here tomorrow.”

Leaning away, the boss yells as he pats me on the shoulder, “Let me hear it for Mateo! You guys know the time and place. I’ll see you all there!”