Post by Metal Matt on Mar 31, 2015 12:37:01 GMT -6
So, a couple weeks ago, smngry approached me with an idea for a spinoff of his fanfic, The Ballad Of Tiffany Valentine. He told me a potential story idea, and asked me if I would be interested in writing it. I, of course, was thrilled, so I accepted. So what this is is a spinoff entitled, Tiffany Valentine: The Prison Years. This will basically revolve around Tiffany's time in prison. This time was touched upon in the original story, but in this, we're going to take a more up close look.
Tiffany Valentine: The Prison Years
Chapter 1:
Chapter 1:
September 13, 1991
"Alright ladies! It's lunch time! Meet in the cafeteria and don't be late!"
That was the cue for the prisoners' lunch break. Not that it was much of a break. What exactly was it a break from? A blonde woman, decked in an ugly orange jumpsuit and bound by shackles around her ankles and handcuffs around her hands exited her cell as she headed to the prison cafeteria. The woman was none other than Tiffany Valentine. She had been trapped for nearly a year or so. In a hell hole called Logan Correctional Centre. The exterior was as gray as can be, which contrasted with Tiffany's brown eyes. Inside, it wasn't much different. 30 cells each spanned 10 hallways. The bars were rusted and grimy. Almost like touching sandpaper. Gray was the color Tiffany had grown to both love and hate in nearly the span of a year. It was practically all she could see. It had been the longest year of her life. She adjusted her black bandana as she went to go get her lunch. It was a long, cold walk from her cell to the lunch room. They just had to put her in the farthest cell from the lunch room. It was practically the longest walk of her life. It seemed to be a thousand miles away. She finally arrived at the lunchroom. It was not the most roomy space in the world. It was a rather small space. There were 15 tables across the room, right across from the food serving counter, where 3 to 5 of the inmates would work. Not that they had the most important job in the world. It's not like the food that was served was fresh. It was goddamn prison food. It was the same as always: a slab of meat, green beans, a piece of bread, and chocolate pudding. Not to mention a flat glass of Coca-Cola. It was the worst thing Tiffany had ever eaten in her life. No variety at all. Yet, somehow she was surviving. Exactly how? Not even Tiffany knew. She always felt she had all the answers to life. Now, life didn't make much sense anymore.
"Hey, Tiff!" A familiar voice said across the lunch board. It was Amy Kroeger. Her few blackened teeth greeted Tiffany.
"Hey, Amy." Tiffany said dryly. She wasn't very fond of Amy, but then again, who was? Tiffany thought of the girl as a crystal meth addicted slut. Because that's what she was. And that was Tiffany being nice. Tiffany hated having to look at Amy's blackened and discombobulated teeth every time Amy smiled. For someone who was hooked on meth since a early age, and abused, she was pretty happy. Tiffany sometimes thought Amy was TOO happy. There was most definitely something off about her. But that was obvious. Amy's pale skin, almost like a classic vampire's, was not inviting or intriguing in the least. There were so many things wrong with her. She was simply a disgusting and repulsive person to look at, let alone talk to. She was a dentist's dream and nightmare at the same time. With brunette hair that was greying and falling out simultaneously, and body odor that smelled like piss in a New Jersey rest stop, it made Tiffany wonder exactly what God was thinking to create a girl like Amy Kroeger. If Tiffany believed in God, anyway. Amy was working kitchen duty. Absolutely disgusting. Tiffany wasn't sure why anybody would volunteer to work in the prison cafeteria. Who in the right mind would do that? But then again, Amy didn't have much of a mind. Her moral compass was practically non-existent when she really thought about it. Tiffany figured that Amy is playing along, doing everything she can to not get bored, and to get out of Logan as quickly as possible. If that was true, then Tiffany couldn't really blame her. Tiffany would probably do the same thing. Tiffany hated this place. She hated it with a burning passion. There was nothing more she wanted than to be back in Chicago, in her trailer park home. Or with Chucky at any one of his hideouts. She wanted to be out of Logan so badly. Tiffany wasn't going to do anything crazy to try and get out of here, but sometimes she thought about how she could escape this god forsaken place. Amy served Tiffany her food. It looked disgusting. As it always did. It wasn't appitizing in the very least. Not that Tiffany expected gourmet food, it was prison food. There was nothing to expect. The meat tasted like a rock, the green beans were watery, and the bread was stale. The food even smelled like Amy. No prisoner enjoyed the food. But the lunch hour at least served as a break from staring at the rusted gray ceiling or sleeping, or doing manual labor.
"Yo, Tiff, I'll meet you at your table!" Amy shouted from across the room.
"Shit." Tiffany said to herself. Amy sitting with her was the last thing she wanted. As far as Tiffany was concerned, She could rot in hell. Why she was cellmates with her, Tiffany had no idea. Ever since she arrived at Logan, she seemed to have nothing but bad luck. Her cell had to be the most disgusting part of the entire prison. As hard as it was to believe, Amy was practically the cleanest part of her and Tiffany's cell. Tiffany certainly couldn't believe it. Rats and spiders would often crawl in and out of holes in the wall. Tiffany nearly was bitten by a black widow just a month ago. Maggots would often appear on the corpses of the various animals that would up and die in this place. After just a few minutes, it would be nothing but blood, ants, and bones. The second night of Tiffany's stay a bird had somehow gotten in. It ended up flying into a wall and dying on impact. The bird slowly slid down the blackened, charred, cold wall. It finally landed on the grimy, and equally as cold floor. It was eaten by rats and maggots instantly. As soon as they were done, the bloody, bony corpse was unveiled. It was so damn disgusting to see. No person, no matter how bad they've been, no matter how heinous the crimes they committed were, nobody should ever have to see a retch inducing sight like that. Tiffany vomited in her mouth just from the sight of it. It was more than even she could bear. There were no trash cans in her cell, and she wasn't even going to think about dumping it in that dirty, disgusting, foul smelling toilet. She wasn't going to bend down and take a whiff of something like that. She had to choice but to swallow it. It's not like there was that much to begin with. But it was little things like that. Little things that were slowly, but surely, driving Tiffany insane. What a hellhole this place was. Even Satan himself would be repulsed at this place. He would certainly be repulsed at Amy. But still, Amy was one of the few friends Tiffany has in Logan, and it was better than nothing, she guessed. How she was friends with Amy, she didn't even know. Perhaps it was out of loneliness. Perhaps it was out of desperation. Or maybe, just maybe, Tiffany could relate and sympathize with Amy. No, no, that couldn't be true... Could it?
Tiffany went over to her table, which consisted of two other women, Angelina Monet and Lisa Crowley. Two tough but good looking women. Angelina had long black hair with small, pouty lips, along with a buxom body. Lisa had short-ish brown hair. Her body was petite, with mismatched eye colors and nail polish to boot. Angelina Monet was arrested for murdering both a young girl and her fraternal twin brother, Jamie and Jason Holcomb. Angelina was a teacher over at Westbrook Elementary School. She was considered one of the best teachers in both the school and the state of New Jersey. Every student, whether they knew it or not had a crush on her. Even a few of the teachers tried to get with her, but she always shot them down. She was destined to be alone, at least as far as everybody knew. Why, nobody knew. With a Playboy-ish body, she could have has and man- or even woman- she desired. She was a gold digger, having married ruthless billionaire Eric Meiner for his reported net worth of $569,432,220,000. He was found dead in his bed at the age of 65. The autopsy said Meiner died of a heart attack, but everyone knew what really happened. One day, during detention, Angelina was watching the two, who had gotten in trouble for cheating on a pop quiz. A few words were said, and Angelina took out her gun and shot them point blank in the head. Angelina started out with Jamie's eye. She shot it first, leaving a bloody mess in her now empty eyehole. She licked the empty eyehole, leaving a pool of blood around Angelina's mouth. Then she went to work on Jason. She shot a hole through Jason's throat. Jason attempted to scream, but only a ugly gurgling sound was able to come out. Then Angelina put the gun in Jason's mouth and pulled the trigger. The back of Jason's head and the classroom's front board was covered with blood. Unfortunately for Angelina, despite quickly leaving the scene, she had left her gun on the desk. She was convicted for life.
Lisa Crowley, on the other hand, was an interesting subject. None of the greatest psychiatrists in the world could figure out this basket case, nor would anybody have wanted to, and nobody could blame them for not wanting to interact with this woman. Having crucified her husband, father, and mother on barbed wire, slit their throats with barbed wire, and set her own house on fire, and claiming to have no memory of it. She especially loved how the barbed wire tore through their flesh and their veins. The slicing of their throats. To Lisa, it made the sweetest sound. The sweet sound of her mother, father, and husband suffering, their throats gargling as they gasped for oxygen. Not to mention the gouging of their eyes with the wire. First the piercing of their corneas. Going right through the eye. Blood just spurting out from the wound. The stems of their eyes were then cut off by the barbed wire, with all of their eyes rolling down their cold faces as they bounced across the room. She was in total elation, absolute euphoria. It was very orgasmic for Lisa. It was her first taste of blood lust. And she was loving every minute of it. She had to have more. Several more innocent people her killed in Lisa's town, by Lisa, before Lisa was finally arrested by an undercover cop. Lisa, for better or worse, was completely insane. Convicted for life. Why she was in a normal correctional facility instead of a mental institution, nobody knew. There were rumors she was related to Governor McComb, but nobody knew for sure. Schizophrenic would be the perfect word to describe her. Absolutely insane.
Amy met Tiffany, Angelina, and Lisa at their table. Usually, there was no interesting conversations going on between the usually group of Tiffany, Angelina, and Lisa. The three didn't even like each other. But none of them wanted to eat alone. They were keeping each other company. But for some reason, today felt different. Like something big was going to happen. But for Tiffany, today felt like any other day. The three stared at one another before Angelina took a bite of her meat and opened her mouth to start the group's first conversation of the day.
"So, I heard that there's something going on between the Warden and one of the guards." said Angelina. Tiffany rolled her brown eyes at Angelina's words.
"Are we really gossiping now?" Tiffany asked. "What, are we back in high school or something? That's something I don't want to relive."
"I had a wonderful time back in high school." Amy said, smiling and exposing her rotten, cracked teeth. "I had so many dates."
"I'm sure you did." Lisa sarcastically replied. Like she cared about any of the girls at the prison, let alone Amy, that crack whore.
Angelina took a bite of her bread. Stale. As always. "So you know, I was wondering," she began. "How did you three get in here anyway?"
Tiffany, Amy, and Lisa looked uncomfortably at each other. Why did Angelina want to know this? They supposed it beat eating lunch in complete silence, as they often did. Not that there was much to talk about anyway. With the exception of them committing crimes, the women didn't seem to have much in common.
"Fine, you silent bitches, I'll start." Angelina said with a sexy smirk on her face. "So I was teaching at this school in Westbrook, right? I had to watch over these brats that had gotten detention. Brother and sister if I remember correctly. They wouldn't shut up, so I had to take care of them. I took out a gun, and-"
"Wait a second," Tiffany interrupted. Angelina stared a hole through her for interrupting her story. Not that Tiffany gave a shit. It wasn't that spectacular a story, and even if it was, Angelina wasn't that great of a storyteller to begin with. She was as monotone as a prostitute who just wanted her money for the night. Tiffany assumed she had some experience in this. She certainly knew Amy did.
"How the hell did you bring a gun into the school?" she asked.
"I snuck it in, obviously. You really are a blonde, Valentine." Angelina snarkily said. Tiffany stared a hole right through Angelina. She could take her out without making a sound. But killing Angelina would get her an extended sentence, and that was the last thing she needed. Tiffany didn't like Angelina and Angelina didn't like Tiffany. What was so great about Angelina? Her drop dead gorgeous looks? As hot as she looked, she held no candle to Tiffany. At the very least, her story was mildly entertaining. The last time she was truly entertained was during her previous one night stand with notorious serial killer Charles Lee Ray, or as Tiffany affectionately called her, "Chucky". It was certainly a lot catchier than simply "Charles". Nights like that were the best nights of Tiffany's life. She never wanted them to end. Those nights were when she truly felt alive. The tantric sex they would have electrified Tiffany and filled her with elation. No man had ever satisfied her the way Chucky did. But she was far away from those love filled nights.
"Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted," Angelina continued while staring at Tiffany. "I ended up wasting both those brats. It was no big deal, really. Once you get used to firing a gun, you become great at it real quick. The only regret I have was not doing more to them. I mean, there were so many options, so many different routes I could have gone. But I suppose shooting them was good enough."
"That's pretty sick, Angelina." Amy said. She was impressed by Angelina's actions. Tiffany, on the other hand, was not impressed. She's done more impressive things than what Angelina had done to those kids. Angelina would be put to shame if she knew all the murders and crimes that Tiffany had committed. Not to mention how many times she succeeded. But then again, it's not like Angelina had any shame to begin with. The slut would show off her admittedly impressive cleavage in her yearbook photos. But with Tiffany, Angelina would have some competition in that department.
"So, Lisa," Angelina continued as she ate, "What are you in for?"
"Yeah, I'm curious too." Amy told the other three. "What did you do anyway? Cut out your lover's tongue? Slaughtered everybody in the grocery store?"
Angelina looked at Amy like she was crazy. Didn't help that she probably was. Angelina couldn't have cared less about anybody at the table. Why she desperately wanted to know the girls' crimes were anybody's guess.
"No, no, nothing crazy like that." Lisa answered.
"Then what did you do then?" Angelina asked.
"Well, I don't really remember." Lisa admitted. "They tell me that I killed my family by wrapping them up in barbed wire. They said I set my house on fire. I don't remember doing any of that. Besides, I'd never do anything like that. I loved my mom and my dad and my husband. I was shocked that something like that had happened."
The other three just looked at each other very strangely. This woman needed help. Tiffany didn't believe a word that just came out of Lisa's mouth. She hoped that Death Row would be able to finally help her once and for all. But no one really knew if she would be on Death Row or not. All Tiffany knew is that she knows that would be the one thing that could help her. And help other people as well.
Angelina already knew Amy's story. Everybody knew Amy's story. She was arguably the most notorious prisoner in Logan. Though Angelina liked to consider herself the toughest and most notorious inmate in Logan. So she turned her attention to Tiffany.
Considering recent events, she was very intrigued to hear Tiffany's story. She truly wanted to know what made that woman tick.
"I don't think you want to hear that." Tiffany said as she turned her head to Angelina. "And to you of all people? You are of no importance to me or anybody else here for that matter."
"What's the matter, you blonde bitch? Are you afraid or something?" Angelina taunted Tiffany. Angelina's trademark smirk returned to her face as she antagonized Tiffany. She was going for the jugular now, so to speak. The other women stared with curious intentions now. They were wondering why Tiffany declined to tell her story. The rest of them were willing to tell their stories, why not Tiffany? Was she scared? Was she intimidated by Angelina? Was she embarrassed by what she did? There were so many questions that needed to be answered. The fans in the top corners of the facility continued to blow their cool breeze. But it didn't affect the table with Tiffany, Angelina, Amy, and Lisa, which was filled with heat and intensity. Beads of sweat rolled down Tiffany's forehead. She wiped her head with her lunch napkin as she stared at Angelina. Neither one was going to blink. Neither one was going to flinch.
"You know what?" Tiffany finally said after what seemed to be a lifetime, even though in reality it was most likely two minutes. "I'll go ahead and tell my story, if that's what you truly want to hear." Tiffany had a very condescending tone, but considering who she was talking to, she found herself 100% justified by her words and her tone of voice.
"I ought to kick your ass for talking to me like that. But go ahead. Enlighten me." Angelina coldly said.
"Well, anyway," Tiffany began, "I was attempting to kill this guy called Evan Carter, but I ended up getting arrested. But it was all in self-defense. Not to mention, the guy had marijuana in his system and the guy had a history of violence. In the end, I got a limited sentence, but that judge said it my case was "too extreme". My final 18 months are probation."
Angelina interrupted to chime in with her two cents.
"Wait just a minute. 'attempted'? What the hell does that mean?" Angelina rhetorically asked.
"Yes, attempted." Tiffany responded.
"Wow, Valentine, you're even more pathetic than I thought. You call yourself a killer, yet you can't get the job done?" Angelina coldly said. This Angelina woman was really starting to piss Tiffany off.
"Believe me, you fake plastic bitch, I've killed more people than you could ever dream of." Tiffany began as she looked into the eyes of Angelina. "I've done things that would keep you up at night, wondering if this chick is for real. Yeah, I wasn't able to get the job done that particular time, and yeah, I ended up getting arrested, but what the hell have you done? What have you ever achieved in your life? Just kill a couple of little kids, just for kicks? That's mere child's play compared to me. Until you feel your knife piercing the heart of any man or woman, and feeling their pain, feeling them suffer, that's the best feeling of all, and something you could never hope to achieve.Your two little kills were a fluke? Who are you to call yourself a killer? What gives you that right? You might be considered the baddest bitch in this place for killing a couple of snot nosed kids, but quite frankly, Miss Angelina, you haven't done jack shit to impress me."
Angelina was pissed at what she just heard. She could not believe anybody would try and talk down to her, not even Tiffany Valentine. Who does this woman think she is? Angelina clenched her fists, which were hiding underneath the lunchroom table as she planned to do some damage to Tiffany. Tiffany was thinking the same thing as Angelina. Tiffany wished she had her switchblade knife with her. It would help her out a lot. Not that Tiffany really needed it, she could take out Angelina with her bare hands. What could Tiffany possibly do to Angelina? Strangle her to death. Beat her with the cafeteria trays? Smash her head into the prison cells until there was nothing left of her skull? All these options seemed so enticing to Tiffany. But yet, at the same time, they were too good for Angelina. She needed something a lot worse. Tiffany wasn't sure exactly what would be the perfect comeuppance for her, but Tiffany felt there had to be something. She hoped and prayed for the day that someone, anyone in this prison would teach Angelina a lesson that she would never forget. Perhaps they weren't so different. Before anything could happen, a guard came by their table.
"Afternoon, ladies, am I interrupting anything?" The guard asked.
"No, you're not, sir." Angelina said, smiling as she did so. Tiffany knew she was right when she said how plastic and fake she truly was. The saddest thing about this was that the guards couldn't see past this pathetic facade.
"Well, that's good. We certainly don't want any problems like we had with Jansen." The guard told the girls.
"What happened to her?" Amy asked the guard.
"Solitary confinement. Got a room all to herself now. Don't worry about her. She'll be fine. And everyone will be fine." The guard said.
"Exactly what someone crazy like her deserves." Lisa observed. Talk about pot calling the kettle black.
"Well, anyway, which one of you is Valentine?" The guard asked the girls.
"I am, sir." Tiffany said, as she raised her hand.
"So you're Valentine." The guard said, looking somewhat surprised. He didn't expect someone with the rap sheet that Tiffany had to look like she did. The guard continued on.
"After the lunch hour is over, the Warden wants to see you in her office. She's got a very interesting proposition for you."
"Alright ladies! It's lunch time! Meet in the cafeteria and don't be late!"
That was the cue for the prisoners' lunch break. Not that it was much of a break. What exactly was it a break from? A blonde woman, decked in an ugly orange jumpsuit and bound by shackles around her ankles and handcuffs around her hands exited her cell as she headed to the prison cafeteria. The woman was none other than Tiffany Valentine. She had been trapped for nearly a year or so. In a hell hole called Logan Correctional Centre. The exterior was as gray as can be, which contrasted with Tiffany's brown eyes. Inside, it wasn't much different. 30 cells each spanned 10 hallways. The bars were rusted and grimy. Almost like touching sandpaper. Gray was the color Tiffany had grown to both love and hate in nearly the span of a year. It was practically all she could see. It had been the longest year of her life. She adjusted her black bandana as she went to go get her lunch. It was a long, cold walk from her cell to the lunch room. They just had to put her in the farthest cell from the lunch room. It was practically the longest walk of her life. It seemed to be a thousand miles away. She finally arrived at the lunchroom. It was not the most roomy space in the world. It was a rather small space. There were 15 tables across the room, right across from the food serving counter, where 3 to 5 of the inmates would work. Not that they had the most important job in the world. It's not like the food that was served was fresh. It was goddamn prison food. It was the same as always: a slab of meat, green beans, a piece of bread, and chocolate pudding. Not to mention a flat glass of Coca-Cola. It was the worst thing Tiffany had ever eaten in her life. No variety at all. Yet, somehow she was surviving. Exactly how? Not even Tiffany knew. She always felt she had all the answers to life. Now, life didn't make much sense anymore.
"Hey, Tiff!" A familiar voice said across the lunch board. It was Amy Kroeger. Her few blackened teeth greeted Tiffany.
"Hey, Amy." Tiffany said dryly. She wasn't very fond of Amy, but then again, who was? Tiffany thought of the girl as a crystal meth addicted slut. Because that's what she was. And that was Tiffany being nice. Tiffany hated having to look at Amy's blackened and discombobulated teeth every time Amy smiled. For someone who was hooked on meth since a early age, and abused, she was pretty happy. Tiffany sometimes thought Amy was TOO happy. There was most definitely something off about her. But that was obvious. Amy's pale skin, almost like a classic vampire's, was not inviting or intriguing in the least. There were so many things wrong with her. She was simply a disgusting and repulsive person to look at, let alone talk to. She was a dentist's dream and nightmare at the same time. With brunette hair that was greying and falling out simultaneously, and body odor that smelled like piss in a New Jersey rest stop, it made Tiffany wonder exactly what God was thinking to create a girl like Amy Kroeger. If Tiffany believed in God, anyway. Amy was working kitchen duty. Absolutely disgusting. Tiffany wasn't sure why anybody would volunteer to work in the prison cafeteria. Who in the right mind would do that? But then again, Amy didn't have much of a mind. Her moral compass was practically non-existent when she really thought about it. Tiffany figured that Amy is playing along, doing everything she can to not get bored, and to get out of Logan as quickly as possible. If that was true, then Tiffany couldn't really blame her. Tiffany would probably do the same thing. Tiffany hated this place. She hated it with a burning passion. There was nothing more she wanted than to be back in Chicago, in her trailer park home. Or with Chucky at any one of his hideouts. She wanted to be out of Logan so badly. Tiffany wasn't going to do anything crazy to try and get out of here, but sometimes she thought about how she could escape this god forsaken place. Amy served Tiffany her food. It looked disgusting. As it always did. It wasn't appitizing in the very least. Not that Tiffany expected gourmet food, it was prison food. There was nothing to expect. The meat tasted like a rock, the green beans were watery, and the bread was stale. The food even smelled like Amy. No prisoner enjoyed the food. But the lunch hour at least served as a break from staring at the rusted gray ceiling or sleeping, or doing manual labor.
"Yo, Tiff, I'll meet you at your table!" Amy shouted from across the room.
"Shit." Tiffany said to herself. Amy sitting with her was the last thing she wanted. As far as Tiffany was concerned, She could rot in hell. Why she was cellmates with her, Tiffany had no idea. Ever since she arrived at Logan, she seemed to have nothing but bad luck. Her cell had to be the most disgusting part of the entire prison. As hard as it was to believe, Amy was practically the cleanest part of her and Tiffany's cell. Tiffany certainly couldn't believe it. Rats and spiders would often crawl in and out of holes in the wall. Tiffany nearly was bitten by a black widow just a month ago. Maggots would often appear on the corpses of the various animals that would up and die in this place. After just a few minutes, it would be nothing but blood, ants, and bones. The second night of Tiffany's stay a bird had somehow gotten in. It ended up flying into a wall and dying on impact. The bird slowly slid down the blackened, charred, cold wall. It finally landed on the grimy, and equally as cold floor. It was eaten by rats and maggots instantly. As soon as they were done, the bloody, bony corpse was unveiled. It was so damn disgusting to see. No person, no matter how bad they've been, no matter how heinous the crimes they committed were, nobody should ever have to see a retch inducing sight like that. Tiffany vomited in her mouth just from the sight of it. It was more than even she could bear. There were no trash cans in her cell, and she wasn't even going to think about dumping it in that dirty, disgusting, foul smelling toilet. She wasn't going to bend down and take a whiff of something like that. She had to choice but to swallow it. It's not like there was that much to begin with. But it was little things like that. Little things that were slowly, but surely, driving Tiffany insane. What a hellhole this place was. Even Satan himself would be repulsed at this place. He would certainly be repulsed at Amy. But still, Amy was one of the few friends Tiffany has in Logan, and it was better than nothing, she guessed. How she was friends with Amy, she didn't even know. Perhaps it was out of loneliness. Perhaps it was out of desperation. Or maybe, just maybe, Tiffany could relate and sympathize with Amy. No, no, that couldn't be true... Could it?
Tiffany went over to her table, which consisted of two other women, Angelina Monet and Lisa Crowley. Two tough but good looking women. Angelina had long black hair with small, pouty lips, along with a buxom body. Lisa had short-ish brown hair. Her body was petite, with mismatched eye colors and nail polish to boot. Angelina Monet was arrested for murdering both a young girl and her fraternal twin brother, Jamie and Jason Holcomb. Angelina was a teacher over at Westbrook Elementary School. She was considered one of the best teachers in both the school and the state of New Jersey. Every student, whether they knew it or not had a crush on her. Even a few of the teachers tried to get with her, but she always shot them down. She was destined to be alone, at least as far as everybody knew. Why, nobody knew. With a Playboy-ish body, she could have has and man- or even woman- she desired. She was a gold digger, having married ruthless billionaire Eric Meiner for his reported net worth of $569,432,220,000. He was found dead in his bed at the age of 65. The autopsy said Meiner died of a heart attack, but everyone knew what really happened. One day, during detention, Angelina was watching the two, who had gotten in trouble for cheating on a pop quiz. A few words were said, and Angelina took out her gun and shot them point blank in the head. Angelina started out with Jamie's eye. She shot it first, leaving a bloody mess in her now empty eyehole. She licked the empty eyehole, leaving a pool of blood around Angelina's mouth. Then she went to work on Jason. She shot a hole through Jason's throat. Jason attempted to scream, but only a ugly gurgling sound was able to come out. Then Angelina put the gun in Jason's mouth and pulled the trigger. The back of Jason's head and the classroom's front board was covered with blood. Unfortunately for Angelina, despite quickly leaving the scene, she had left her gun on the desk. She was convicted for life.
Lisa Crowley, on the other hand, was an interesting subject. None of the greatest psychiatrists in the world could figure out this basket case, nor would anybody have wanted to, and nobody could blame them for not wanting to interact with this woman. Having crucified her husband, father, and mother on barbed wire, slit their throats with barbed wire, and set her own house on fire, and claiming to have no memory of it. She especially loved how the barbed wire tore through their flesh and their veins. The slicing of their throats. To Lisa, it made the sweetest sound. The sweet sound of her mother, father, and husband suffering, their throats gargling as they gasped for oxygen. Not to mention the gouging of their eyes with the wire. First the piercing of their corneas. Going right through the eye. Blood just spurting out from the wound. The stems of their eyes were then cut off by the barbed wire, with all of their eyes rolling down their cold faces as they bounced across the room. She was in total elation, absolute euphoria. It was very orgasmic for Lisa. It was her first taste of blood lust. And she was loving every minute of it. She had to have more. Several more innocent people her killed in Lisa's town, by Lisa, before Lisa was finally arrested by an undercover cop. Lisa, for better or worse, was completely insane. Convicted for life. Why she was in a normal correctional facility instead of a mental institution, nobody knew. There were rumors she was related to Governor McComb, but nobody knew for sure. Schizophrenic would be the perfect word to describe her. Absolutely insane.
Amy met Tiffany, Angelina, and Lisa at their table. Usually, there was no interesting conversations going on between the usually group of Tiffany, Angelina, and Lisa. The three didn't even like each other. But none of them wanted to eat alone. They were keeping each other company. But for some reason, today felt different. Like something big was going to happen. But for Tiffany, today felt like any other day. The three stared at one another before Angelina took a bite of her meat and opened her mouth to start the group's first conversation of the day.
"So, I heard that there's something going on between the Warden and one of the guards." said Angelina. Tiffany rolled her brown eyes at Angelina's words.
"Are we really gossiping now?" Tiffany asked. "What, are we back in high school or something? That's something I don't want to relive."
"I had a wonderful time back in high school." Amy said, smiling and exposing her rotten, cracked teeth. "I had so many dates."
"I'm sure you did." Lisa sarcastically replied. Like she cared about any of the girls at the prison, let alone Amy, that crack whore.
Angelina took a bite of her bread. Stale. As always. "So you know, I was wondering," she began. "How did you three get in here anyway?"
Tiffany, Amy, and Lisa looked uncomfortably at each other. Why did Angelina want to know this? They supposed it beat eating lunch in complete silence, as they often did. Not that there was much to talk about anyway. With the exception of them committing crimes, the women didn't seem to have much in common.
"Fine, you silent bitches, I'll start." Angelina said with a sexy smirk on her face. "So I was teaching at this school in Westbrook, right? I had to watch over these brats that had gotten detention. Brother and sister if I remember correctly. They wouldn't shut up, so I had to take care of them. I took out a gun, and-"
"Wait a second," Tiffany interrupted. Angelina stared a hole through her for interrupting her story. Not that Tiffany gave a shit. It wasn't that spectacular a story, and even if it was, Angelina wasn't that great of a storyteller to begin with. She was as monotone as a prostitute who just wanted her money for the night. Tiffany assumed she had some experience in this. She certainly knew Amy did.
"How the hell did you bring a gun into the school?" she asked.
"I snuck it in, obviously. You really are a blonde, Valentine." Angelina snarkily said. Tiffany stared a hole right through Angelina. She could take her out without making a sound. But killing Angelina would get her an extended sentence, and that was the last thing she needed. Tiffany didn't like Angelina and Angelina didn't like Tiffany. What was so great about Angelina? Her drop dead gorgeous looks? As hot as she looked, she held no candle to Tiffany. At the very least, her story was mildly entertaining. The last time she was truly entertained was during her previous one night stand with notorious serial killer Charles Lee Ray, or as Tiffany affectionately called her, "Chucky". It was certainly a lot catchier than simply "Charles". Nights like that were the best nights of Tiffany's life. She never wanted them to end. Those nights were when she truly felt alive. The tantric sex they would have electrified Tiffany and filled her with elation. No man had ever satisfied her the way Chucky did. But she was far away from those love filled nights.
"Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted," Angelina continued while staring at Tiffany. "I ended up wasting both those brats. It was no big deal, really. Once you get used to firing a gun, you become great at it real quick. The only regret I have was not doing more to them. I mean, there were so many options, so many different routes I could have gone. But I suppose shooting them was good enough."
"That's pretty sick, Angelina." Amy said. She was impressed by Angelina's actions. Tiffany, on the other hand, was not impressed. She's done more impressive things than what Angelina had done to those kids. Angelina would be put to shame if she knew all the murders and crimes that Tiffany had committed. Not to mention how many times she succeeded. But then again, it's not like Angelina had any shame to begin with. The slut would show off her admittedly impressive cleavage in her yearbook photos. But with Tiffany, Angelina would have some competition in that department.
"So, Lisa," Angelina continued as she ate, "What are you in for?"
"Yeah, I'm curious too." Amy told the other three. "What did you do anyway? Cut out your lover's tongue? Slaughtered everybody in the grocery store?"
Angelina looked at Amy like she was crazy. Didn't help that she probably was. Angelina couldn't have cared less about anybody at the table. Why she desperately wanted to know the girls' crimes were anybody's guess.
"No, no, nothing crazy like that." Lisa answered.
"Then what did you do then?" Angelina asked.
"Well, I don't really remember." Lisa admitted. "They tell me that I killed my family by wrapping them up in barbed wire. They said I set my house on fire. I don't remember doing any of that. Besides, I'd never do anything like that. I loved my mom and my dad and my husband. I was shocked that something like that had happened."
The other three just looked at each other very strangely. This woman needed help. Tiffany didn't believe a word that just came out of Lisa's mouth. She hoped that Death Row would be able to finally help her once and for all. But no one really knew if she would be on Death Row or not. All Tiffany knew is that she knows that would be the one thing that could help her. And help other people as well.
Angelina already knew Amy's story. Everybody knew Amy's story. She was arguably the most notorious prisoner in Logan. Though Angelina liked to consider herself the toughest and most notorious inmate in Logan. So she turned her attention to Tiffany.
Considering recent events, she was very intrigued to hear Tiffany's story. She truly wanted to know what made that woman tick.
"I don't think you want to hear that." Tiffany said as she turned her head to Angelina. "And to you of all people? You are of no importance to me or anybody else here for that matter."
"What's the matter, you blonde bitch? Are you afraid or something?" Angelina taunted Tiffany. Angelina's trademark smirk returned to her face as she antagonized Tiffany. She was going for the jugular now, so to speak. The other women stared with curious intentions now. They were wondering why Tiffany declined to tell her story. The rest of them were willing to tell their stories, why not Tiffany? Was she scared? Was she intimidated by Angelina? Was she embarrassed by what she did? There were so many questions that needed to be answered. The fans in the top corners of the facility continued to blow their cool breeze. But it didn't affect the table with Tiffany, Angelina, Amy, and Lisa, which was filled with heat and intensity. Beads of sweat rolled down Tiffany's forehead. She wiped her head with her lunch napkin as she stared at Angelina. Neither one was going to blink. Neither one was going to flinch.
"You know what?" Tiffany finally said after what seemed to be a lifetime, even though in reality it was most likely two minutes. "I'll go ahead and tell my story, if that's what you truly want to hear." Tiffany had a very condescending tone, but considering who she was talking to, she found herself 100% justified by her words and her tone of voice.
"I ought to kick your ass for talking to me like that. But go ahead. Enlighten me." Angelina coldly said.
"Well, anyway," Tiffany began, "I was attempting to kill this guy called Evan Carter, but I ended up getting arrested. But it was all in self-defense. Not to mention, the guy had marijuana in his system and the guy had a history of violence. In the end, I got a limited sentence, but that judge said it my case was "too extreme". My final 18 months are probation."
Angelina interrupted to chime in with her two cents.
"Wait just a minute. 'attempted'? What the hell does that mean?" Angelina rhetorically asked.
"Yes, attempted." Tiffany responded.
"Wow, Valentine, you're even more pathetic than I thought. You call yourself a killer, yet you can't get the job done?" Angelina coldly said. This Angelina woman was really starting to piss Tiffany off.
"Believe me, you fake plastic bitch, I've killed more people than you could ever dream of." Tiffany began as she looked into the eyes of Angelina. "I've done things that would keep you up at night, wondering if this chick is for real. Yeah, I wasn't able to get the job done that particular time, and yeah, I ended up getting arrested, but what the hell have you done? What have you ever achieved in your life? Just kill a couple of little kids, just for kicks? That's mere child's play compared to me. Until you feel your knife piercing the heart of any man or woman, and feeling their pain, feeling them suffer, that's the best feeling of all, and something you could never hope to achieve.Your two little kills were a fluke? Who are you to call yourself a killer? What gives you that right? You might be considered the baddest bitch in this place for killing a couple of snot nosed kids, but quite frankly, Miss Angelina, you haven't done jack shit to impress me."
Angelina was pissed at what she just heard. She could not believe anybody would try and talk down to her, not even Tiffany Valentine. Who does this woman think she is? Angelina clenched her fists, which were hiding underneath the lunchroom table as she planned to do some damage to Tiffany. Tiffany was thinking the same thing as Angelina. Tiffany wished she had her switchblade knife with her. It would help her out a lot. Not that Tiffany really needed it, she could take out Angelina with her bare hands. What could Tiffany possibly do to Angelina? Strangle her to death. Beat her with the cafeteria trays? Smash her head into the prison cells until there was nothing left of her skull? All these options seemed so enticing to Tiffany. But yet, at the same time, they were too good for Angelina. She needed something a lot worse. Tiffany wasn't sure exactly what would be the perfect comeuppance for her, but Tiffany felt there had to be something. She hoped and prayed for the day that someone, anyone in this prison would teach Angelina a lesson that she would never forget. Perhaps they weren't so different. Before anything could happen, a guard came by their table.
"Afternoon, ladies, am I interrupting anything?" The guard asked.
"No, you're not, sir." Angelina said, smiling as she did so. Tiffany knew she was right when she said how plastic and fake she truly was. The saddest thing about this was that the guards couldn't see past this pathetic facade.
"Well, that's good. We certainly don't want any problems like we had with Jansen." The guard told the girls.
"What happened to her?" Amy asked the guard.
"Solitary confinement. Got a room all to herself now. Don't worry about her. She'll be fine. And everyone will be fine." The guard said.
"Exactly what someone crazy like her deserves." Lisa observed. Talk about pot calling the kettle black.
"Well, anyway, which one of you is Valentine?" The guard asked the girls.
"I am, sir." Tiffany said, as she raised her hand.
"So you're Valentine." The guard said, looking somewhat surprised. He didn't expect someone with the rap sheet that Tiffany had to look like she did. The guard continued on.
"After the lunch hour is over, the Warden wants to see you in her office. She's got a very interesting proposition for you."
