Chapter 3 - THE BLOOD RITES
The sound of thirty steel doors sliding open at once was a sound of pure terror.
In Blackwood, open doors without guards present meant only one thing: a riot. But this was no ordinary riot. This was an execution of authority.
Roxie, the substitute leader of the Iron Sirens, gripped her sharpened toothbrush shank until her knuckles turned white. Beside her, three massive women armed with heavy metal pipes taken from the plumbing lines stepped forward. They were desperate. They knew that if they didn't kill Maya right now, their reign of terror was officially over.
"Get her!" Roxie screamed, lunging forward with a deadly thrust toward Maya’s throat.
Maya didn't even step back. She sidestepped the blade by a fraction of an inch, her movements so precise it looked staged. She grabbed Roxie's wrist, twisted it outward until the bone popped out of its socket, and slammed the shattered blade directly into the shoulder of the second attacker charging behind her.
Screams of pain erupted through the block.
The third attacker swung a heavy iron pipe aimed at Maya’s temple. Maya caught the pipe with her bare left hand. The impact cracked the skin on her palm, blood trickling down her wrist, but her face remained entirely emotionless. She pulled the pipe toward herself, using the attacker's own momentum to drive a brutal knee into the woman's face.
The woman collapsed, unconscious before she hit the floor.
Within forty-five seconds, four of the prison’s most dangerous enforcers were writhing on the ground, broken and defeated.
The rest of Cell Block C watched in absolute horror. Inmates locked inside their open cells backed away as far as the concrete walls would allow, holding their breath, terrified that making eye contact with Maya would draw her deadly wrath upon them.
Maya wiped the blood off her palm onto her orange pants. She walked slowly over to Roxie, who was hyperventilating on the floor, clutching her dislocated wrist.
Maya knelt down, pulling Roxie up by her collar until their faces were inches apart.
"Look at me," Maya whispered softly.
Roxie sobbed, her eyes wide with unadulterated terror. "Please... please don't kill me... please..."
"I don't kill trash unless I'm paid to," Maya said, her voice dripping with ice. "From this second onward, no one touches Tina. No one steals food. No one enforces 'rent' in this block. If I hear so much as a whisper of bullying, I won't just break your wrists, Roxie. I will tear this entire facility down brick by brick. Do you understand me?"
"Yes! YES! I promise! I swear!" Roxie choked out, tears running down her bruised cheeks.
Maya dropped her like a ragdoll.
She turned around and walked over to young Tina, who was shivering in the corner of her cell. Maya reached out a hand. Tina flinched violently at first, but when she looked into Maya’s eyes, she saw something that wasn't present when Maya looked at the bullies.
She saw protection. She saw a guardian.
Tina timidly reached out and took Maya's hand. Maya pulled her up gently. "You're safe now," Maya said softly. "Come with me."
As Maya led Tina down the center hallway, the inmates on both sides did something unprecedented in the history of Blackwood Penitentiary.
They didn't cheer. They didn't shout.
They slowly bowed their heads as Maya passed by.
In less than twenty-four hours, the mysterious tattooed girl had completely dismantled the prison hierarchy. She wasn't an inmate anymore; she was the undisputed sovereign of Block C.
However, high above the cell block, behind the tinted one-way glass of the control room, Warden Sterling was watching the whole thing on the security monitors.
Beside him stood a man dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, holding a silver briefcase. The man had a cold, sterile aura—a representative from the shadowy syndicate known as The Apex Group.
"She's out of control, Sterling," the man in the suit said, his voice flat. "She reached the block in less than six hours. She's hunting for the server room."
Sterling gritted his teeth, his hand trembling on his glass of scotch. "She's just one woman! I have fifty armed guards!"
"She isn't just a woman, you idiot," the suited man snapped. "She is Agent Maya Vance. She was engineered by Black Ops Alpha. She has taken down entire military garrisons in Eastern Europe. If she gets her hands on that drive, every single one of us—including senators and generals—will swing from a gallows."
"Then what do we do?" Sterling asked, sweat pouring down his forehead.
The man in the suit set his briefcase on the table and popped the latches. Inside was a sleek, black biometric radio detonator and a file marked OPERATION CLEAN SWEEP.
"Activate Block D," the man ordered coldly.
May you like
Sterling’s eyes widened in horror. "Block D?! That's where we keep the violent psychopaths! The mercenaries! The death row inmates!"
"Release them into Block C," the man commanded, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Offer them total freedom and ten million dollars cash to whoever brings me Maya Vance's head. Let's see if your ghost agent can survive a bloodbath of fifty professional killers."
