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The chow hall was filled with echoes of people, the orange prisoner uniforms scattered across the busy hall. Beatrice exhaled as she felt the stuffy air, grimacing to herself as she gazed across bench on bench across the place. Beatrice grimaced to herself as she walked down the middle, scanning the faces of the crowd.
The jail hall seemed empty without her bunkmates, Beatrice keeping her eyes to the floor. "Oi, Tonteri-Young, where's your bunkmates?" A taunting voice came from the side. Beatrice scoffed as she gripped the tray in her hands harder, snapping her head to the man.
A sting came from inside her. "They're gone. Free, with liberty or some shit." Beatrice spoke, turning her head away. She wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Since the latest bastards had arrived, they'd been less than courteous; ravaging her shit, breaking every rule in the prison. Why couldn't she get decent bunkmates?
"Ah, too bad. You wanna sit with us? Could use a tough lady like ya." The man chuckled. Beatrice raised an eyebrow- narrowing her eyes on the men at the table, they hadn't been taunting her perse. What was their motive? She knew they weren't associated with any chomos… they were all on assault charges.
Beatrice lit up with recognition. She was a tough face in the prison; they needed the manpower. Her bunkmates and her had been one hell of a team. She took one final gaze around the chow hall, seeing the eyes around. Beatrice quickly stopped looking, though, not wanting to attract attention; lying her eyes on the men.
How long did she want to wander around the chow hall?
"Yeah, sure." Beatrice said casually, despite the mental breakdown happening internally. Being in prison for years, everyone learned to internalise feelings; there weren't any times for sadness. Not when you needed to put on a tough face. She kept her head high as she shifted, sitting between two dudes.
"Just another day, eh? I'm Terence." The man chuckled with a small smile. Beatrice looked at the hand that he offered, a handshake. She took it, looking at the other men. They seemed respectable.
"Yeah, just another day. You got any coffee, man?" Beatrice asked, leaning forward with a huff- "I got a few things if you're willin'." She looked at the food on the tray, the vegetarian meal on the tray. She hadn't eaten real meat in ages- having lied about being a vegetarian, she'd had to keep up a person's to avoid the guards feeding her the mystery meat.
"Yeah, we'll talk during free time, yeah!" Terence said, motioning next to him- "This is Jason, my best bastard." Jason punched Terence's arm, but nodded, remaining stoic as ever. Beatrice heard the loud chatter from around her, feeling herself relax slightly. Yeah, she had heard good things about this group; she'd be fine.
God only knew what was in that mystery meat. Beatrice shuddered at the thought, seeing the said mystery meat on the trays around her. She bit into the egg sandwich, smiling to herself as she looked around the table, paying attention to introductions.
"Yeah, alright." Beatrice acknowledged, not saying a word as Terence talked. She found it better to let people talk, even if she wasn't interested in the subject matter. Terence continued to talk as she zoned out.
For a long few moments, Beatrice continued to eat. She wondered what she'd do today; probably work out, she needed to begin to trade with the commissary she had. Beatrice gulped as she realised she didn't have coffee available for the next week without trading.
"Tonteri-Young, move it!" A voice yelled across the chow hall. Beatrice barely flinched- snapping her head to the guard. She shifted in her seat, sending an exasperated glance- Terence had an expression of sympathy. She sighed as she got up, leaving she tray there, knowing damn well it'd be ravaged if she wasn't back soon.
"Yeah, boss? What's happening?" Beatrice asked, raising an eyebrow. The guard was Johnson; dark beard, white. A bastard to deal with when he was angry- but right now, he seemed pretty okay. Phew.
"You're a free woman, Tonteri-Young." Johnson spoke, smiling. Beatrice blinked. Was he mistaken? She raised her eyebrows further, crossing her arms. Now this was curious.
"Sure you didn't read the print incorrectly?" Beatrice asked, tilting her head. There was no way in hell she was being freed; looking around her, she saw that the group with Terence was now listening in.
"I just read the memos, Tonteri. You have five minutes to gather your shit." Johnson said, shaking his head with a grimace. Beatrice's eyes widened, realising he was dead serious- this wasn't a joke- "Seriously, I'm not sure how you got it either. Got a rich associate?" Johnson spoke.
Beatrice stood there, disbelieving. How was this possible? Her eyes scanned around the chow hall as she turned around, shock clear on her face. She squinted at her tray- it hadn't been touched. Huh. Beatrice gazed at the crowd of men watching her.
"You boys want my commissary? All free." Beatrice said, motioning in the direction of her cell. Voices came from the table as the men jumped up, excitement in their faces. Beatrice laughed as she turned around, motioning for them to follow. Of course they'd want it for free!
Beatrice still wasn't sure how or even if this was real, but who cared? She sighed as a grin took her face.
—----
The car engine softly rumbled ahead of her, Beatrice feeling the vibrations as she leaned against the window; the night sky shone down on her as the breeze ran through the car. She was quiet as she gripped the duffel bag on her lap
The night sky looked down on the steep hills, Beatrice looking over the silent, moonlit fields. The car engine softly rumbled ahead of her, the vibrations going through her as she gripped the duffel bag in her lap. She sighed as she leaned against the open window, enjoying the breeze running through.
Ahead of her, someone drove. Beatrice wasn't quite sure who, but apparently it was a police officer from Cruciform. Typical, they'd always need a statement from her. Beatrice pursed her lips as she took in the night air, taking in that she was finally free. She was safe. Away from harm.
"So, I'm new to the department. What's up with this 2012 case?" The woman curiously asked. Beatrice scoffed as she looked at the woman in the overhead visor mirror, their eyes meeting. None of them said a word as Beatrice leaned back, grimacing.
"Premeditated murder of… 102 people, according to my former." Beatrice answered, her voice echoing through the car. A palpable silence filled the air as Beatrice continued to look out the window, fiddling at the handles of the bag. Despite being supposedly free, she was on guard.
The officer ahead of her seemed nice enough. A rookie, by the looks of it. Poor woman, being sent ten hours away from the main town. Beatrice raised an eyebrow to herself as she remained quiet, keeping her head down. She was used to that, anyway; may as well keep the pattern.
"Oh." The woman said quietly, her demeanour deflating. Beatrice smiled at the eagerness of the cop. She seriously seemed nice, maybe needed a boost- "What's your name?" Beatrice asked, breaking the ice. The woman blinked, Beatrice could see it through the visor mirror.
"Camilla, ma'am." Camilla said. Beatrice took in her body language; nervous, but excited. Probably had been told to do an errand. Beatrice leaned back as she looked at the front seat, seeing the stuff scattered across it; chip bags, coffee cups- "S-Sorry for the mess."
Beatrice leaned forward, shaking her head- "No worries, girl. When I had a car, I was just like that." Beatrice chuckled, smiling comfortingly- "How long have you been 9n the force? You're new."
"...a month on full duty." Camilla answered tentatively. Beatrice clicked her tongue as she watched Camilla continue to drive. God, Beatrice had once wanted to be a cop- now? There was no way in hell she was even trying, "...how'd you know?" Camilla spoke.
"Your nervous energy." Beatrice said, nodding to Camilla- "That shake of the hand is telltale. You need to improve it if you wanna impress anyone." Camilla nodded at the advice. Beatrice watched the officer, still, leaning on the back of the seat. The road was silent ahead of them, the headlights on.
"You seem nice. Why did they assume you murdered people?" Camilla said slowly. Beatrice blinked at the question, raising an eyebrow. The woman at the front had no malicious intent; somehow, Beatrice knew it- she had the makings of an angel. Good will, innocence. Well, not for too much longer- police reality would hit soon.
"I met a serial killer in prison, who thought she was like me…" Beatrice answered, shrugging as she tapped her finger against the car seat, "...was a tiny thing, even smaller than me. She killed two hundred via mustard gas." Camilla's eyes widened, stuck on the road ahead of them.
"Whoa." Camilla said, her eyes widening, "So, the devil comes in many forms?" Beatrice nodded in agreement, keeping her distance. The woman still seemed
"You're right on point, rookie. Never let that catch your guard down." Beatrice leaned back, grimacing as she pulled up the window.
—----
Moonlight shone down on the open street, a breeze brushing past her as the small crowd rushed into the diner ahead of her. The parking lot was packed with cars ahead of her, chatter coming from every direction. Beatrice grimaced to herself as she adjusted the shirt around her, looking inside the wallet she held. 30$ remained inside it.
The familiar neon sign hung above the doorway, with multiple letters gone, spelling out: MTRON'S DNER. Beatrice was glad this place hadn't changed; casting a glance to the beach directly ahead of the building, she sighed, grimacing to herself. Damn- maybe she missed too much. The cold night air was cold as ever.
Beatrice peeked through the windows of the diner, something making her hesitate. The diner was packed with people, Beatrice tightening her grip around the strap of her bag. Was she really ready for this? Letting out a shaky breath, she forced herself to step forward.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she was forced to keep going out of politeness. She just had to act like she belonged there, right? Beatrice gulped as she gripped the door handle, a ringing filling the diner as she stepped inside, the massacre of noise coming from around her.
The jukebox played the local radio in the background, the booths packed with people. The next generation of teenage waiters patrolled the zone, holding trays of food and drinks. Laughter came from the booth next to her. Beatrice saw a group of girls; eerily familiar ones.
Some of mean girls she used to hang out with years back. They reeked of cigarettes, and two looked way out of shape. Beatrice shook her head in disbelief, seeing Crimson at the centre- "Girl, no! I slapped that bitch, sent her to the next world!" Crimson cackle.
She quickly turned away before crimson or anyone noticed her, continuing to walk. Now, that wasn't what she expected. Half of the mean girls were gone. Beatrice kept her head up as she walked down the line of booths, looking away as she passed Crimson's.
She had no intention to sit at a booth. Beatrice instead headed straight for the bar, where a group of older men were laughing, clearly intoxicated. Superion stood behind the counter, appearing to glare at them, her only free hand with a coffee pot as she held her signature cane.
"Be quiet, boys. You are grown adults." Superion insulted, Beatrice smiled with a chuckle. She sat at the spare seat at the bar, her head high as she picked up the menus. Beatrice had half-expected them to be sticky- but they weren't. Huh. Maybe Superion had improved her game.
Beatrice raised her head to see on the right of her, a group of her old schoolmates were there. She vaguely recognised Shannon and Mary, who were holding hands. Although, she didn't recognise the other three- a brunette woman, blonde man and a brown-haired man bartender.
"Beatrice Tonteri-Young. Loaded omelette, triple shot coffee and orange juice. Be damned if I forget you." Sueprion gruffly spoke from the side. Beatrice rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, leaning against the bar. Superion stood there in all her glory, the yells of the kitchen coming from behind her- "First meal out of prison?"
"Yeah, I'll take that." Beatrice answered, exhaling as she looked at the beverages on offer. God, she had missed alcohol; at least in her teenagehood, she could drink away her problems. She gripped the menu- "I'll take an order of pancakes, too. Why's it so busy now?"
"I'd recommend the pancakes tomorrow. Outside food will destroy you." Superion answered, staring at her. Beatrice huffed, nodding, grimacing. She had heard stories, but had never heard confirmation. Beatrice held her tongue as she spoke- "Fine. Just the omelette. How do you know about this?"
"Ex-con myself, only served three years though." Superion answered, turning around- "Oi, loaded omelette! Now!" The yells from the kitchen just increased. Beatrice clicked her tongue as she smiled, recognising some voices; one was new, though. She tilted her head.
Sueprion turned back to Beatrice- "So, which prison did you go to?" Superion asked. Beatrice exhaled as she looked in surprise. Oh.
"Ah, East Central Maximum Security. In with the worst of 'em." Beatrice answered with a grin- "My crime earned me a lotta cred there, though. You know how it is." "You bet I do, Beatrice. Anyone looking out for ya?" Superion said.
"The old lady who runs the storage unit a bit away kept sending me commissary for nine years. Saved my life, if I'm honest." Beatrice admitted, quieter. Superion was silent as she nodded, pouring a mug of coffee.
Beatrice took the coffee, cradling it close to her. She looked at the mug, clicking her tongue. She recognised this old thing; here since the dawn of time- "Never changed your mugs, eh?"
"Never needed to. No accidents in years, we're that good." Superion remarked. A voice came from behind Superion, one of her classmates calling for something- "Mother, mother- can we get some desert pancakes?" An excited voice came. The brunette woman.
Superion glared at the woman, "It's a little late. You need to sleep." The woman scoffed, crossing her arms. Superion turned to the kitchen after a long moment of staring- "Loaded dessert pancakes!"
Beatrice took a sip of her coffee. She smiled to herself as she remembered the memories of the diner, gazing around. She stayed quiet as she listened to the drunken conversations of the men next to her, who were packing up. Thank god, honestly.
"Ah, finally!" Crimson's voice rang out. Beatrice watched as the group sat at the bar t her left, replacing the men. The women chatted loudly, causing her and Shannon to exchange a glance- Shannon's eyes widened at Beatrice- "Did you hear, that bitch Beatrice is getting released?" Crimson chuckled.
"Seriously?" Hannah said- "We all know she did it. Why's she getting released? Did daddy step in?" Beatrice snorted, holding back laughter. "No, apparently someone came forward with video evidence she wasn't there. It has to be solid if she's a free woman." A hushed voice came.
"Damn. What's happening there, eh?" Another woman spoke, "Hey, Superion- what's the whole procedure of getting released?" Superion raised an eyebrow as she poured coffee into the women's mugs.
"It's not usually a fast thing, but…" Superion shrugged, "...the police must want her to not sue. So, they're trying to get her out before she gets angrier than she already is." A murmur went through the women.
Beatrice smiled. She wasn't angry. Since the car ride, she'd gotten the chance to realise how much the police could be paying her. She just had to stay quiet, and she got what? A hundred? A thousand? The limits were endless. She gritted her teeth when she remembered her families ties, wondering if she could pull on them-
Her family wasn't going to help. Since abandoning her, not one of them had contacted her. Commissary? Nah, not even a cent. Beatrice scoffed to herself as she realised they hadn't even come to her release. Now she was innocent, why weren't they talking to her? Made her wonder if she should try to reach out at all…
Beatrice sipped the coffee. Not today. She would make that decision when she had her life together, when she had confirmation everything was safe in her storage locker. She grunted as she stood up, stretching slightly, standing up behind the stool.
She never had liked sitting down for a long time- it was why she took so many sports in high school. Soccer? American football? Hockey? Sign her up to everything. Beatrice sat back down with a huff, turning around to face the coffee.
"If Beatrice isn't guilty, who is?" A woman asked.
"Someone in the Tonteri-Young's, no doubt. They were involved in shady business in the first place." Another said, even quieter. They were hushed with the subject, yet Beatrice could hear them perfectly. How ironic that was… "Yeah, once she gets in contact with her family…" "It's gonna be a game of who's the killer."
Beatrice gulped, bitterness rising inside her. Spoiler: there wasn't. The damn useless fucks weren't even going to apologise for whatever they caused her suffering for. Even in the early stages of her suspecting, her brothers stopped talking to her following her parents, alienation began…
It was a whole saga. She chugged down the coffee, pursing her lips. There was no point dwelling on the past now. What could she do? Walk up to their front door? Hi dad, do you wanna confess to murder? Why weren't you there to pick me up? She scoffed at the dialogue that could happen.
"Tonteri-Young, loaded omelette?" A voice rang out from the kitchen, eyes snapping to her. Beatrice sighed as she raised an eyebrow to Superion, who was smirking. Beatrice watched as she was passed the omelette, along with a knife and fork.
"That's me. Thanks." Beatrice said warily, turning to the women. She smiled politely at them- "For one, I am innocent. Two, my life was fucking ruined and I want it back. Questions?" She pointed her fork at them, hovering it between the women.
"People aren't gonna like this." Crimson remarked, smiling politely in return. Beatrice shrugged, taking a bite- gasping at the taste. By god, it was beyond prison food. She blinked out of her astonishment, just enough to respond- "Well, if they'd like to combat the law with proper evidence, go right ahead. Both me and the big men know I'm innocent."
The bar had gone silent as she ate.
"Nice one, girl. How's the omelette taste?" Shannon asked.
"You ever had an omelette that somehow has the texture of rubber, Shannon?" Beatrice remarked. Shannon was surprised- "No way that's possible." Mary laughed at Shannon's response, patting her shoulder.
"You've changed, girl." Mary said, shifting as she moved to a different seat. Beatrice grinned as she watched Mary sit down next to her- "I went to prison for five years. Now, what are you doing back here?"
"Rehabilitation program. My only option, really…" Beatrice said with a grimace, "...I'm skipping town as soon as I'm out of that unit. Gonna go on a road trip with some new buddies. Friends from prison."
Mary nodded. "Yeah, I was about to recommend you skedaddle. It's gonna get messy with all the witnesses combatting your release, be careful."
"I can handle myself, rest assured." Beatrice said. Mary looked at Bea's prison tats- "Oh, I have no doubt. Don't get arrested again, though- violence is your last action, alright?"
"I just got out. I'm not going back in." Beatrice assured her- "What's changed around here?"
"Not a lot. Crimson's still a bitch, Reya's still head of HOA and uh, Adriel's still mayor." Mary answered, patting Beatrice's shoulder- "You'll be fine, girl. Promise.”
—----
(Storage Unit)
Beatrice walked down the hallways, looking at the bottom-rolling red doors lining the hallway. It was dimly lit, with little more than her company- Miss Hanna, walking ahead of her. A breeze rushed through as she hummed to herself, her eyes following the various numbers leading her down the hallway. At least this was one place that hadn't changed a bit.
Miss Hanna walked slowly ahead of her, Beatrice matching her pace. She was more than happy to go slow; Beatrice wasn't sure she was ready to face what was left of her past.
With the location of the storage unit, it wasn't used often by… anyone. Too inconvenient to get to and back with massive cargo, not much of a choice. Luckily for her? Beatrice had found the perfect location for secretive storage. The old lady running it, Miss Hanna- sworn to secrecy for every client.
Especially Beatrice. Beatrice looked to see Miss Hanna had slowed down, and slowed down with her. They were approaching the door. Beatrice sighed as she kept her head up, tapping her foot- "Miss Hanna?" Beatrice asked, tilting her head.
"Y-Yes, dear?" Miss Hanna asked with the same, familiar quiver in her voice. Beatrice watched as she took out a key, her hand shaking. "Ah, dear, could you unlock it for me? I'm afraid my hands…" The woman motioned to the shakiness. Beatrice nodded, gently taking the key.
"Yeah, I have a question." Beatrice spoke, motioning to Miss Hanna- "You sent me nine years of commissary. Why?" Beatrice asked, handing back the keys. Miss Hanna looked like a deer in spotlights as she stared at Beatrice, who crouched down to open the door.
"Kindness goes a long way. I'd like to believe I'll get it back someday, by the time I die…" Miss Hanna said, smiling to Beatrice, "...besides, I always knew you never did it. Even if it took me twelve years to work out how to prove it."
"Is there any way I can repay you, Miss Hanna?" Beatrice asked, raising her head- "Name your price. I don't know how to… help you."
"I don't need anything." Miss Hanna said, waving her hand. Beatrice rolled her eyes. She barely even struggled as she easily lifted the door, a contrast as to the last time she was here. She sighed as she saw the lights flicker on ahead of her, realising Miss Hanna turned on the lights.
Inside, there were countless boxes taped up, folders of paperwork on top of one of them. Beatrice sighed as she gulped, staring at the boxes. There were over ten, meaning a lot of trips to her car… shit. She would have to organise this all.
"Do you need a trolley, dear?" Miss Hanna asked gently from behind. Beatrice snapped out of it at her words, raising her head to look back. Beatrice nodded- "Y-Yeah, yes please." Miss Hanna nodded, her footsteps fading. Her eyes lingered on the spot the old woman was at just a second before.
Beatrice looked back to the stuff, counting it up again in her head. God, she couldn't believe she had this much stuff. As compared to what she had days before? It was more than she could dream of- although, her clothes likely wouldn't fit her.
Looking at the gate, she recognised the design. Secure, perfect to contain people. Hey, whoever created the place was smart. Beatrice gulped, hesitating to walk inside; what if it locked behind her?
A screech of wheels came. Beatrice sighed as she walked forward, her heart beating as she took a box with shaky hands. Turning around, she saw Miss Hanna standing behind the trolley. Beatrice began loading her stuff on, filing the bottom up.
It didn't take long to put all the boxes on. Beatrice found the folder and wallet, holding it as she took ahold of the trolley.
"Okay, I'll be fine on my own. Thank you." Beatrice said politely. The old woman nodded, walking away with a wave. Beatrice looked to the stuff on the trolley, sighing. It was all she had left.