Prequel: A "normal" day in prison.
"Ugh!" I yelled, banging my head against the grey cell wall "Why Is the universe out to get me!?" It was five weeks into my prison sentence, after my latest bank robbing, and today has been terrible. Not the regular old prison terrible either, no this was the worst day of my life. I would prefer going through the cupcake incident rather than this bullshit. Just-
"ALL INMATES. CURFEW IN TEN MINUTES. START RETURNING TO YOUR CELLS." a static filled voice recording plays over the intercom.
"I'm already here damnit!" I scream. Did I mention that my cell is really close to one of the intercoms? Or that they get fucking loud? As I said before, my day has been shit.
~EARLIER THAT DAY~
I was out in the cafeteria. With my tray of sloparoni and faintly tastes like cheese, with slop to the side, and an even blander than usual (if that is even possible) glob of unidentifiable goop for dessert. "My favorite." I mutter sarcastically, as I sat down on one of the identical benches where everyone eats.
"WE HAVE A NEW INMATE: NUMBER 1257 JACK CHALICE."
The intercom screeches right above my head. "Shit! it hurts!" I scream. trying to deal with the now constant ringing in my ear. "Dude, are you okay?" Bill Zander, one of the few people here that doesn't try to make my life living hell. said from the other side of the table.
"Yeah, I just shouldn't have chosen a seat so close to the intercom" I answer, after the torturous ringing in my ears dies down enough for me to concentrate on the suddenly much more difficult task of communication. "Wait, who did they say the new inmate was?"
"I think they said Jack Talisk? No, that wasn't it. Calisk? No, I don't think that was right. Damn I am a dumbass if I can't even remember something said a minute ago."
"It was Jack Chalice. Damn, I was hoping I was just hearing things."
"You know him?" Bill asked, intrigued.
"Yes, I know him, he was the guy who hired me to do the bank job that got me in here"
"So, what is the problem?"
"He is a real hard ass, and likes to rule those who work for him with an Iron fist. No doubt will he be furious when he sees me, not finishing the job and all." I told him.
"Really? Why couldn't you finish the job?"
"Getting caught kinda does that to you. Otherwise I wouldn't be here, don't you think?"
"I really am a dumbass, should have been able to figure that out." Bill replied, before we fell to silence for the rest of the lunch.
I didn't meet Jack until after lunch, walking back to my cell to look at the porno magazines I hid away for my free time. I was walking down the hall, when I crashed into something, or more like, someone crashed into me.
"Well, well, well, look who it is." a familiar voice said as I was getting back up
"Leave me the fuck alone, Jack." I reply, trying to get out of here so I can get to my regular masturbation.
"Is that any way to treat an old friend?"
"Fuck you."
"Oh, I don't like your attitude, mister, but you know what I don't like even more?" He asked, but cut me off before I could curse at him again "I hate it when someone fails at a task I payed them to do." Right at that moment, a fist slams into my face with the force of a freight train. If a freight train was shaped like a fist, and attatched to an angry ex-boss of mine. I try to block his next punch, but it ends up pushing me to the ground. I barely escape by kicking at his legs to get him off balance, before getting up, and running towards my cell.
When I got there, I locked any inmate out and just pulled out my porn mags so I could masturbate away my worries, pain, and stress. Five hours pass, each one marked with the screeching voice of the intercom telling us all that an hour has gone by. Each one increasing my migraine, and each one having me worry that Jack will find my cell and somehow break in and kill me... or worse. The porn barely helps, and eventually, I just put it away, and start screaming at the wall. I can barely handle this shit, and it has been only one day with him here. Multiply that by however long it takes for one of our sentences to run out. I just can't handle the stress, being beat up by random guys is one thing, but him. I know him, I know to what extents he will beat me. I know he has a grudge against me and will try to fight me every single day. I just know. It is just bullshit. That is what happened earlier today and-
SCREEECH "ALL INMATES. GET IN YOUR CELLS. WE HAVE JUST PASSED CURFEW."
Well, I got to sleep. I just hope I can get away soon. I would take anything to not be in the same prison as him. Even if I go to a prison that is ten times worse. I just need... I need out.
Chapter 1: Horse is the new black
"Uugh." I moaned, becoming conscious from my dreamless sleep from the sound of... birds chirping? Wait, what? Not the scratchy sound of the intercom, or the footsteps of fellow inmates or gaurds, but birds chirping? Uugh, maybe Jack hit me on the head worse than I thought, I'm probably hallucinating from the concussion it caused. Yeah, that is probably it. Still, I might as well wake up fully and get off this soft bed. Wait, how the hell could that plank they call a bed that is in my cell soft? Okay, there is definitely something wrong here. After laying down for a few more seconds, wondering what kind of weird prank someone is pulling, I open my left, eye which should not be as swolen as my right and-
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" How the hell did I get out here!? I am in a feild of grass, with a clear blue sky, and as far as I can tell, I can feel,the ground below me as if I were completely naked. "WHAT IN THE MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!?" I scream, starting to stand up to get a better veiw of my surroundings when- "OOMF!" I fell down to all fours and... not feeling hurt or jolted, or anything in the slightest, as if I haven't even fell in the first place.
In fact, I can't really feel the pain from the fight from yesterday. I raised my hand up to feel the bruises and- "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I scream, fearing the thing before me, "What! The! Fuck!? My fucking hand! What in the hell is WRONG with it!?"
My hand, It was a smooth, round, oarnge, cylindrical lump. And when I move my arm, it moves instead. I fear to look further down and- Oops! I just looked down, seeing an orange, furry arm attatched to an oarnge, furry body. My oarnge furry body. I did the best thing that any sane, calm, and rational, person would do: I panicked.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! HOW THE HELL AM I AN ANIMAL!? HOW THE HELL CAN I TALK!? what the fuck!? WHAT THE FUCK!? WHAT!? THE!? FUCK!?" I couldn't stop myself. It was too much. I just, I cried. I cried for the loss of my sanity, I cried for how I would probably end up as someone's weird, oarnge pet, or ending up being poked and prodded with needles in area fifty one. I cried for the endless losses, and the endless gains. I just cried and cried and cried.
After what may have been minutes, or what may have been hours. I got up, and tried to see if I couldn't walk, and get some answers. I first tried walking with my back legs, as would have come natural to a human, but I was not human at all anymore. Then I tried walking with my front "feet", scooting along on my ass.
Eventually I made it to a nearby puddle and looked at my reflection. I could not believe it, I looked like a horse. A miniature, huge-eyed, talking, horse. What's more, as a huge example of Irony, my fur "coat" was the same oarnge as my prison jumpsuit, while my hair, or should I say mane, was as black as the ink the displayed my ID. My eyes were as vivid of a green as they were before. Well, I'm no expert, but I am pretty sure I don't look like a normal horse, I have seen a picture or two of a horse before, even back in prison. Although they had a near naked woman riding on, or standing next to them, because they were in a pornography magazine. Still, I never seen a horse with eyes this big, or any animal with fur that was a vivid oarnge. So, if not a horse, then what am I?
Oh well, that is a question for another time, If I look like a horse, I might be able to walk like a horse. Getting off my oarnge ass, I started moving a leg forward, putting one "hoof" in front of the other, and I... tripped. falling face first into the ground. "Fuck, walking is harder than I thought it could be." I mutter while getting up. Trying to come up with a different method a sat down and- "do I smell something sweet?" I really did, it,smelled like pie. If pie weren't a bland husk that should have never been put on this earth, even as prison food. I walked over towards where the smell was coming from, my nose guiding the way and- Wait, what!? I was just, walking! I wasn't thinking about how, so much as where. Namely, towards the pie, and now that I am trying how to figure out exactly how I am walking, I tripped, and fell, again. Okay, don't think about how to walk, just do it. Don't think about how to walk JUST DO IT! IT'S WORKING! I am finally walking. I can just smell the pie on the windowsill, I just need to reach up and take it. Grabbing onto the pie, and transferring it onto my back I started walking back to the plain I came from. Laying it down, and now that I am done with that, wondering how the hell it was possible for a horse-like creature to grab onto a pie, put it on their back, and walk all the way to a clearing before setting it down, without dropping the pie throughout all this. I ate, burying my new muzzle in the pie like the animal I have become, and oh boy did it taste good! I don't know if it was because of my new horse tongue, or the weeks I have spent only eating bland slop, but I could have sworn that this pie, was the best pie I have ever tasted in my entire life.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!!!!!!!"
