Chapter 2:

Cell Number 510

The Gift That Keeps On Grieving


Twenty years… Twenty years, twenty years, twenty years… Merry kept repeating those two words in her mind as she once again thought back to the scene of the crime. For the third time that day, her eyes began to water. That asshole! He fled the scene and left me to take the fall for his actions! I wish he would die! I wish that every criminal would JUST DIE!

“…It’s not fair,” she whined, her voice muffled as she dug her face into the surprisingly soft pillow, “I shouldn’t even be here right now… I’m innocent…”

As she lay there crying, Merry hadn’t noticed that her new roommate had woken up. And Merry hadn’t noticed that said roommate was now looming menacingly over her body.

What do we have here? the older woman thought to herself as she reached forward, wrapping her hands around Merry’s throat. A new toy to play with…?


Merry jolted upright as she felt something tugging at her throat.

“Hey, what the Hell do you think you’re--”

“Oopsie! I didn’t mean to alarm you,” her cellmate smiled innocently. “I was just curious about your scarf. Where’d you get it?”

Merry looked down at the blue and white striped scarf that was draped around her neck.

“Oh, uh, my scarf,” Merry affirmed. “It was just a gift from my mother, no biggie.”

“It’s so cute,” her roommate giggled. “Plus it totally matches my panties! Wanna see‽”

“H-hey, w-wait a second,” Merry stammered. “You sh-shouldn’t get so chummy with me! You don’t even know my name!”

“Oh?” It’s Marisa, isn’t it?” the older woman asked. “That’s what the warden said when he told me that I’d be getting a new cellmate.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Merry huffed. “Nobody even told me that I’d have a cellmate in here…”

“Ah, then allow me to introduce myself,” the enigmatic girl exclaimed, removing her hands from Merry’s scarf and standing up straight, her large chest puffed out proudly. “The name’s Colleen McCabe, 36-years-old and still looking drop-dead gorgeous!”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you or whatever, but I’m really tired,” Merry sighed. “As you can imagine, I’ve had a long day. Let’s get to know each other better tomorrow, OK?”

And with that, Merry lay back down and slowly drifted off to sleep.

“I hope you have a good night’s sleep,” Colleen muttered under her breath. “After all, it’ll be your last…”


***


Chapter 2: Cell Number 510


December 2nd, first full day at Aluminum Pigeon Penitentiary

BANG! BANG!

Merry’s slumber came to an end as she heard the sound of a baton striking the metal door of her cell. A voice called out to her and Colleen from outside their cell.

“Get up, you maggots! It’s breakfast time!”

Merry rubbed her dreary eyes. As she tried to sit up, she felt something heavy pressed against her body. Opening her eyes, Merry blushed at the sight of her cellmate pinning her down to the bed.

“C-Colleen, what the heck are you doing‽”

“Gooooood morning, Marisa,” Colleen cooed in a singsong voice. “Ready to start the day?”

“I would be if you weren’t on top of me…”

“Oopsie,” Colleen shrugged nonchalantly, leaping up from the bed and proceeding to do an impromptu sean-nós dance on the marble floor.

“Man, why is she so freakin’ weird?” Merry muttered to herself as she too stood up.


As Merry walked over to the door, she felt Colleen tug on her scarf.

“Hey, Marisa. Can I, like, ask ya something for shits and giggles?”

“I suppose so.”

Colleen leaned in close as she placed a hand on Merry’s shoulder. Merry was almost expecting the other girl to steal her first kiss like some vile Victorian vampire, but instead Colleen playfully nibbled her detached earlobe and whispered into her orifice.

“What are you in for, Marisa?”

“Murder,” Merry stated bluntly, trying not to blush. “I’m innocent though.”

“Hardly,” Colleen gasped, placing a hand on her pale cheek. “My roomie is innocent‽ Oh man, the other prisoners are gonna eat you alive!”

“Haha, very funny,” Merry groaned, rolling her eyes. “So, what are you in for?”

Colleen’s playful expression immediately changed to that of a stern grimace. Merry felt the atmosphere around her grow colder and she instantly realized she had asked something that she shouldn’t have.

“…You don’t want to be late for breakfast, do you?” her cellmate asked through gritted teeth as she pushed Merry out through the cell door.

“Ah? Wh-what about you?” Merry asked as Colleen closed the door behind her.

“You go on ahead, roomie! I’ll catch up with you later!”


***


Merry sat in the prison canteen as she stared at the slop that lay on her plate. Do they really expect me to eat this crap? As she tried to stomach her breakfast, Merry found herself staring out the nearby window. How many of them are innocent, and how many of them are guilty? she wondered as she watched the various prisoners running around the courtyard.

At the center of the courtyard, a lone tree stood erect and covered from top to bottom in Christmas decorations. Underneath lay a solitary present, covered in blue and white striped wrapping paper and topped neatly with a pink ribbon.

“The color matches my scarf,” Merry thought aloud, “and also Colleen’s underwear, I guess.”


…Colleen? Where was she? Surely she should have left their cell by now? Merry sighed as she ejected herself from the canteen seat.

“I guess I’ll bring her some of my leftover food? It’s not like I was going to eat all of this garbage anyway…”


***


Merry stood outside cell number 510. She could hear the excited moaning of a woman coming from behind the cell door.

“Please, Colleen,” Merry begged under her breath as she opened the metallic door. “Please don’t be doing anything weird…”

CREAK!

“Hey, uh, Colleen. I brought you some--” Merry stopped mid-sentence as she stared at her cellmate in disbelief and confusion. “Are you… wearing my old clothes?”

It was quite the sight to behold, but not in a good way. Before her very eyes, a complete stranger was wearing Merry’s clothes. The top was too tight and the shorts too loose on the other woman’s body, making Merry feel rather uncomfortable.

“Hey there, roomie,” Colleen jeered, her mouth turning into a contorted grimace. “How do I look, Marisa?”