Part Three

"Hey! Piece of shit, hey!" The guard was screaming.

"Fuck you!" I yelled back.

The guard politely replied, "I've got a gift for you from one of your dirtbag buddies."

He handed me a damn noose with a note that said: HERE'S YOUR ONLY WAY OUT OF THE SHOE. God dammit! Must be from one of my good friends from the past.

I threw the noose back at the hole where the guards glaring eyes were watching me with delight. I am sure he was hoping to see a hanging this morning or whatever time of day it is.

I have been down here for four days but it is already getting hard to keep track of the time. With glorious wake-up calls like this one, you think I would be able to track them a little easier. Unfortunately, my wake up calls happen whenever they feel the need to wake me. Most likely, whenever one of my friends tells them to. Seems they run the place. Anyways, I get a wakeup call at least every two or three hours. I have not slept much in the last several days.

It is funny; I thought I would be safer down here. I also thought I would finally get my meals. The first day no one showed up with food. The second day I got a slice of toast topped with a roach and some jam or someone's blood; I am not sure which but I did eat it. The third day was actual food. They must have been having fun so they decided to keep me alive by feeding me; it's no fun if I've starved to death. I got three full meals that day. Although, the last meal of the day did have a special treat under the entrée; several whole fingernails with some of the skin still attached. Oh well, at least I was full.

Now today I get a noose. I have not gotten any food yet. I am not sure what time of day it is since windows are nonexistent in the shoe. I can hear the crazies on the floor howling and catcalling the guards so it must be daytime.

The guard who tossed me the noose slowly opens the rusty-hinged door. As it's squeaking open, another guard lunges through the partially open door screaming at me to stay back. I did until his club cracked me in the back of the head and I fell forward.

"What the fuck! I was as far back as I could get." I yelled at the overly aggressive guard.

"Shut up inmate scum! You're coming with us. There's a place worse than the shoe for trash like you." The burly guard was yelling.

They're suddenly dragging me down the rough concrete hallway. I can hear my prison clothes ripping; I feel cuts on my legs tearing open as they're pulling me along. I also fell a little blood dripping from an apparent gash on the back of my head.

We finally get to a solid black, heavy metal door. One of the guards is pulling the door open. I can hear scratching along the concrete as he does. Suddenly they toss me in the room. The door slams shut.

"What the hell!" I'm screaming as someone grabs my hair, pulls me up and slams my ass down in a chair. "Hey, I mean it, what the fuck's going on?"

Someone savagely slams my hands down on the arm of the chair. They're strapping them down tight I guess so there is no wiggle room. I look up to see Brock and Big Jim sitting in a viewing room. I'm in the electric chair.

"Hey fuck you guys! You can't kill me here. The prison won't allow it. You might be able to torture me and trash me but you ain't getting away with killing me here." I'm screaming frantically, almost desperately now.

In his ever-so-smooth, know-it-all voice Brock says "Now, now Jackie you should know by now we can do as we please here. Isn't that right warden?"

"Sure as shit!" Says the warden.

"We don't want you dead yet Jackie boy. Don't worry, when we do, you will be. We just want to show you our gratitude for the other day." Says Brock as he lifts up his legs so I can see the bandages wrapped around his wounded knees.

"Get it over with then! Quit fucking around and cut me, rape me, beat me to hell and back just get it done and quit being a pussy!" I yelled.

"Oh, you'd like that. Something that would be easy to move on from. That's you always taking the easy way out. No...no this is going to be memorable for...haha...well all of us." Big Jim was speaking this time in his deep, baritone voice.

I started thrashing violently hoping to break a strap or tip the chair, but it was to no avail because the chair is bolted to the ground. I think this is my Waterloo. I'm probably going to wish I'd used that noose earlier today.

With a jolt, my already sore head was slammed into the back of the chair. That hurt. The guys behind me are strapping my head in now. Not the eyes, not the eyes. My eyes have been taped open as well. I hope this isn't some CIA strobe-light type shit.

"Well Jackie, now you get to see the whole show." Said Brock from behind the glass.

He disappeared for a moment. Now he's limping through the big black door. It looks like he's going to do some of the dirty work too.

He kneels down beside me staring at my feet like a rabid dog. He's nearly foaming at the mouth. He calmly grabs my right foot, strangely caresses it, holds his hand out behind him and a pair of needle nose pliers is dropped into his hand.

"This little piggy went to market, this little piggy was a bad little piggy...." Brock chanted.

"Aahhhh...you fucking psycho!" I screamed as he pulled the nail off of my big toe. The pain hits instantly and it is excruciating. Tears are running down my face since I can't shut my eyes. The worst part is having my head angled so I have to watch it. I can't look away. I see him looking at my hand now. He flips the pliers up, grips my pinky nail and tears. Blood squirts out hitting Brock in the face. He just smiles and wipes it away; he's done this a few times.

I'm starting to feel pretty woozy. He's got all my toenails off and I only have two fingernails left. I'm bleeding pretty good. Why am I still awake, oh that's right the adrenaline shot they gave me. They really did want me to see the whole show.

"I...I...I fucking get it, Brock. You gotta stop." I was pleading barely audible.

"But we're having so much fun. We haven't even got to reminisce about the old days yet." Said Brock, as he ripped one of my last two nails off.

Luckily my vision is getting really blurry so I can't see as much anymore. The shock is numbing the pain a bit. It still feels like a nail gun being shot in my fingertips but better then it felt earlier.

"DAMMIT!" there went the last nail.

"Well now wasn't that fun," said Brock, "I think we're almost done here, boys. But Jackie one more thing."

He took the pile of toe and fingernails and shoved them in my mouth. I tried spitting them out but he clamped my mouth shut I just don't have the strength to fight him. I refused to swallow them. He finally moved his hand, only because he's got vomit on it but at least he moved it.

"Shit Jackie now you've made a mess." He said. Everyone's chuckling behind him. "I guess you can go back to your room now. They got an execution soon."

"Third one this week," said the warden "I love roasting you dirtbags."

They finally unstrapped me. I closed my eyes for the first time in I don't even know how long. Whoever was behind me the whole time shoved me onto the floor. The pain is unbearable. I think I'm going to take that nap now.