The Huntsville, not a place where anyone would like to be. Voluntarily, or otherwise. Located in the penitentiary system of Texas, a shuttle brings in a new set of inmates to be processed and brought to their cells to start their sentences. After being given the orders to strip, they were given a jumpsuit, pillow and blanket and were lead to a main corridor. Cells were recessed into the sides of this main hall, with stairs every hundred meters or so leading up to a second level. One prisoner was lead to a cell on the second floor by a Correctional Officer. When they arrived, a nod was given to a nearby camera and the cell doors beep and slide open. The officer smacks the back of the prisoner with their baton.
"Agh! Easy there, lad! I'm moving!"
The force of the baton pushes Burton into the cell, with the door shutting behind him. He turns around to see the officer smirk and walk away, onto the next cells. Burton puts on his jumpsuit and notices the inmate number sewn into the front in big bold characters: IN-4455. As he looks around to see what his cell provides him, a toilet is the first thing that catches his eye, alongside a small table with two chairs and a shelf protruding from the wall adjacent to the bed. A figure was sitting on the bottom bunk of the bed. Slowly making his way forward to put his bedding on the top, Burton gets a good look at his cellmate.
"Hey, lad. Guess I'm your cellmate."
The inmate looks towards Burton with a glance of sorrow. He is rather unpleased to see a new inmate in his cell already. Just after the last one left.
The letters on his chest read: 'IN-4341-T' indicating that he has arrived here before his cellmate. His body was in good shape but his posture was crooked and tired. The prisoner appears to be in his late twenties, a large black and gray beard adorns his face, long wavy hair run down across his neck. With a deep, hoarse voice he speaks to his new fellow resident, proudly parading his Texan accent.
"G'day to you too."
After a brief silence he could feel the tension in the air was so thick that he could cut with a knife.
"The name's James... James Hollywood. And yes. It all seems like you're my cellmate now."
As he speaks those words he pushes his hand towards Burton; signaling a greeting but not bothering to stand up. He glances at his own hand sticking out towards Burton's chest slightly, thinking to himself that sight of such worn-out and destroyed piece of the human body might concern the 'new blood'. He smirks at him in a friendly way, almost looking happy to see a new face.
He was hoping Burton wouldn't notice the condition of the cell as it was disgusting, to say the least. The toilet was a little bloody but that should be the least of their concerns. They were in a confinement after all.
"So what happens now, lad? The clock outside said it was nearing twenty-one hundred."
Burton takes a seat next to the table, noticing it's crudely made and built well enough to hold his above-average weight. The legs bend slightly as he eases into the chair.
"I kinda just got here. That officer wasn't playing around."