The next morning started quite turbulently. The canteen was very full - fuller than the night before. Several guards now stood with machine guns on the lower floor. The inmates were surrounded by weapons.

"What happened?" David asked, furtively looking around as he pushed his tray in front of him.

His neighbour, as always, did not leave his side. In the beginning, David was annoyed that he wasn't even allowed to pee alone, but in such uncomfortable situations he was happy to have someone by his side who could crush someone easily if he just fell over.

"Block C is here today," he whispered tensely, also looking around nervously. Everyone from block A seemed to be doing this. Only the new faces didn’t. At least that’s what David assumed. All faces were new to him after all.

"I thought we always had separate meal times?"

Tucker had some grey stodge, which looked like slush, put on the tray. "Probably hell was going on over there last night."

"Indeed," a smirking man interrupted. He had a brown full beard with a few grey streaks in it. No hair. Maybe in his mid or late forties. Like most of the people here. “Candy had someone killed again. The whole hall was full of blood.”

Tucker's face immediately turned pale. "Oh, shit."

The bearded man just shrugged. “It was time. The little Russian had annoyed him long enough.”

David just listened quietly and tried to decipher what exactly had happened. The man from block C, who knew about the situation so well, was still grinning happily, even though he was talking about really terrible things.

“I guess he cut his throat and let him bleed to death after they screwed. And because it wasn't enough for him, he pulled him screaming through the aisle while he was bleeding.”

Then Tucker fell silent. He and David stared at their food, which they just wanted to bring to a table.

“Some people say that he did some sick shit with him then. Wanking on the corpse or something.”

Tucker went to sit down without saying a word. David stopped by the bearded man for a moment, who was happily taking plastic cutlery.

“Where were the guards? Why didn't anyone intervene?” David asked tensely, staring at the man. The guy turned around and said nothing at first, just grinned.

"New here?"

David nodded slowly.

The bearded man nodded like an understanding father and took a step towards David to whisper something to him quietly. “Here in block A, they seem to care a little bit more about you. Like, you still have a future. When you're in block C, boy, forget it. They let you die. Doesn't matter to them. Before they get caught in the crossfire?”

David wondered why everybody called him boy in this facility when he was actually about the same age of most of the inmates. It probably had something to do with the newcomer status. In any case, the bearded man seemed to have a perfidious delight in frightening David.

"You don't mess with Candy," he whispered finally. “You eat. Or will be eaten.”

The man left eventually.

David scurried to Tucker, who was sitting on the edge of a distant table. He had his head between his shoulders and was literally shovelling the food into himself.

When David sat down, Tucker winced. "Are you crazy? Did you really talk to this guy?”

"Yes," he said calmly as he picked up the plastic cutlery. "I wanted to know why the guards didn't intervene."

"Well, because nobody intervenes when Candy is walking around," Tucker explained the story with the same words.

"Who's Candy?" Sounded like a woman's name.

His cellmate bit his lip and stopped shovelling for a moment. “Shawn Candy. Serial killer. Killed several girls in a really cruel way, they say.”

Men sitting next to them stole a glance over there. They caught snatches of the conversation and apparently felt uncomfortable. One of them even moved something away from David. As if they were summoning the devil.

“Shawn Candy? Never heard of him.” And David knew the criminal scene. He had to deal with it every day anyway.

"Yes, you did now," Tucker snorted, reaching for David's wrist over the table. His grip was a little too tight. David winced. “Stay away from Candy. Stay away from everyone who has anything to do with him. Antonio? He’s kindergarten compared to him. If you love your life, don't talk to the block C guys. Don't talk to anyone about Candy. Not even with the guards. You don't know who is corrupt enough to be in cahoots with him.”

David stayed silent and just blinked in Tucker's little eyes, which were exceptionally big enough so that you could actually see a brown iris. Tucker only let go slowly. His hand slid over the dirty table.

So Candy was a man that David should take a closer look at.

The men around them got up and fled. Antonio and his gang, however, came closer. David sighed inwardly when one of the guys hit his tray on the table.

"Good morning ladies," Antonio said to David and Tucker. “Have you heard? Candy ran amok again.”

For that a lot of people said nobody should talk about this Shawn Candy, pretty much everyone did anyway. Like a K-pop idol.

“It's just blatant that they let him do what he likes. I mean, the guy has been killing people here regularly for months, and yet guys keep getting involved with him.”

"Wasn't it his new whore he was killing off?" Asked one of Antonio's lackeys, shoving the greasy omelette into his mouth.

"Yeah, that's what I mean!" Antonio waved his hands in the air. "You know the guy is a killer and still you let him nail you? How hollow do you have to be?”

"Maybe you don't always have a choice," David said for the first time since the group of Antonio had arrived. He knew he shouldn't have said anything and put his head between his shoulders like Tucker. But that was probably what set David apart: he just had to get involved.

His roommate looked up, startled. Antonio and his colleagues also froze for a moment. Until one of them finally giggled.

“You think Candy made him become his whore? Well, someone seems to be well informed.”

"From what I’ve heard so far of him, it’s not that much of a stretch, do you think?" David said in a calm tone, even though his heart was pounding in his chest.

Antonio slid a little closer to him and leaned forward so that his nose almost touched David's cheek. "Be careful, otherwise Candy will make you his whore next."

It was surely meant as a threat. But it went nowhere. "How does that work? He's in block C. We're in block A. I guess I'll never see him.”

Antonio grinned broadly and showed again his ugly teeth. “If Candy wants you to come to him, you'll come to him. That might happen faster than you'd like.”

David stared into Antonio's brown eyes and tried to decipher what his intention was. Intimidate him? To scare him? Or did he just want to provoke a reaction?

"So you really have no choice then," David concluded, eating the last spoon of his grey mush, which tasted just as grey.

Antonio moved away from David again and looked at him stunned. “You should have a little more respect for him. Otherwise you're dead faster than you'd like.”

"I'll give him the respect he deserves when I see him.” With that David got up and indicated to Tucker that they would leave.

When they left, David heard Spanish curses and excited laughter from the group. Tucker only found his language again when they were back in their room and the door was closed.

"Wow," was all he got out. David sat down at the small table and heard the guards lock the rooms. Usually it was day pass. Apparently not.

“I can’t believe you can stay so calm! Aren't you scared? What if Candy heard the conversation? What if he really gets you?”

As Tucker panicked, David opened a magazine about racing cars. "Yes, that would be rather ugly." Actually, it was almost exactly what he wanted to do - get to know the weird bird.

"You're ..." his roommate started, but hesitated because he probably couldn't think of anything. Finally, with his index finger, he indicated that David should be careful, but said nothing more.

The gates were opened again at noon. In the afternoon, free access was allowed again. David really wanted to take a shower. His hygiene shouldn't suffer just because he was in prison. Even if it would have made the other smells around him easier to bear.

"Don't go showering alone," Tucker said, grabbing his towel. "It's too dangerous."

"So you're accompanying me?" David was already ready to go by the door.

"It’s better this way."

Of course, Tucker's intentions hadn't been as selfless as they seemed at the beginning. He stared at David's penis all the time. It wasn't until David caught him staring that Tucker cleared his throat and gestured reluctantly at what David had between his legs.

“Pretty big. I have to admit,” he said as they stood in the shower. The warm water was pleasant on the skin. The guard with a machine gun at the entrance, however, spread a rather oppressive atmosphere. The other men just did what you did in a shower: washing yourself. It was far less wicked than the films always tried to make you believe.

"Thanks," was all David said.

After a really unspectacular shower, the two men sat back in the room. Tucker talked about his part-time job he did in prison: putting pieces of drugstore dye together. He packed everything you needed for a beautiful blonde, brown or black in a cardboard box, where a beautiful woman showed her great photoshopped hair.

At dinner, David overheard another conversation about Candy. That he was probably in solitary confinement again. It wasn't clear to David why one would let him out after all.

Tucker bent his ears like a blabbermouth, but David just let him talk. He ate his chewy bread in silence and drank the water that tasted of lead.

But of course, the day had to end the way it had started: in pure chaos. Antonio and his boys were going to have a good time throwing ketchup bags at David. Just as he was about to hand over the tray, the first ketchup bag flew into his neck. Followed by the second and third on his head. Of course, they were all open, so that the red, sticky mass spread all over him.

"Oh no," Antonio shouted amused, and threw a bag extra hard on his ass. “So much blood! Hopefully he will survive!”

Antonio’s colleagues laughed and skilfully acted their own death. David tried to stay calm and simply put the tray aside. Tucker stood next to him and looked at him in shock, then in panic. Several other men around them stared at them and watched the spectacle. Of course, no guards intervened. It was just ketchup and a silly prank.

"Who wounded you so much, princess?" a guy laughed from Antonio's gang. "Was it Candy and his huge cock?"

"Uh, was it too big for you, princess?"

"You're his whore now!"

The whole gang laughed. Nobody else. Tucker pulled a couple of napkins off the stand and tried to wipe the ketchup off David’s clothes. Ultimately, his clumsy hands only made things worse and he worked the red bump into the grey suit and his hair. David nodded politely and carefully pushed Tucker's hands aside. "Thank you, I think we'd rather do that in the room."

Antonio's group continued to laugh, even though David and Tucker were already out of the canteen. Their laughter was loud enough that you could still hear it in the hallway.

"That was really so unnecessary," sighed Tucker, trying to create a calm atmosphere. David was calm. He walked down the aisle silently. In fact, some oncoming inmates stared at the two with panicked looks. In the small bathroom mirror of their toilet, David saw that the ketchup had done a really good job. It looked like smeared blood. He had to take a shower again. The ketchup was in his entire hair.

"You're redder now than you were before," Tucker said. But when David's neutral gaze hit him, he fell silent. “So, I mean… you were rather brown-red before. Now you're red-red.”

"I got it, Tucker," David sighed and grabbed his still clammy towel. "I'm going to take a shower again."

"Are you crazy? At this time? Better go tomorrow. I'll go with you again.”

"It's okay." It wasn't that bad. In addition, there was always a guard in front of the shower room. If necessary, he or she could intervene.

However, before he went to the shower rooms, David got a new uniform from the laundry. The lady was very nice and smiled when David told her which kindergarten campaign had given him the ketchup on the back of his neck. In the corner of his eye David saw a car full of dirty clothes. Many of them with real blood. David could quickly make out the difference. He had seen enough blood in his life to know that the mountains of clothing in the car had not been stained by ketchup.