Welcome to My Zone, Bitch
Cynthia lay stiffly on the empty bunk opposite Ashley's, as if even the slightest movement would trigger something dangerous. The thin, rough mattress felt nothing like comfort, and the chill in the underground prison fortress was already sinking into her skin. She curled up slightly, pulling her knees toward her chest, but kept her eyes locked on Ashley, who lay motionless on her own bed, facing the ceiling with a vacant expression.
Then, without warning, Ashley popped one eye open and turned her face toward Cynthia, catching her off guard.
"Bitch, I know you ain't just watching me." Ashley's voice was low but laced with pure threat. Her lips curled into a wicked smirk. "I'll gouge those pretty little eyes out if you don’t turn to the other side and face the damn wall."
Cynthia’s breath hitched. "Sorry, sorry," she stammered, scrambling to roll onto her side, facing the cold, damp wall of the cell. Her fingers clenched around the thin blanket as if it could offer some protection.
Ashley let out a scoff. "Keep it that way. I don’t want your beady little eyes on me. If you look at me again, I'll know. And if I catch you, well... let’s just say you don’t wanna find out what happens next."
Silence fell over the cell. Cynthia's heart pounded violently in her chest, but she remained still, focusing on taking slow, quiet breaths. She knew better than to test someone like Ashley.
At some point, exhaustion won. Cynthia fell into a restless sleep, her body betraying the fear still gripping her mind. The day’s events had drained her— being shoved around, screamed at, stripped of all dignity in the intake process. Now she was trapped in a cell with someone who had a history of sending roommates to the infirmary. Her body wanted rest, but her mind refused peace.
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'The Following Morning'
A sudden, violent scream yanked Cynthia back into reality.
"MOTHERFUCKER, WAKE THE FUCK UP!"
She jolted up with a sharp inhale, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest. A shadow loomed over her. Ashley was standing at the edge of her bunk, bent over, screaming directly into her face. Cynthia recoiled, pressing her back against the cold wall, her hands trembling as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Cynthia blurted, still panting from the shock. "Why are you in my face?!"
Ashley chuckled darkly, straightening up just a little. "It's morning already, dumbass," she said, eyes gleaming with amusement. "And let me tell you somethin’. If you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll break your fucking jaw."
The smile on her face didn’t match the steel in her voice. Cynthia swallowed hard and nodded slightly, her hands gripping the thin sheets beneath her.
Ashley crossed her arms and tilted her head. "Now, listen up. Breakfast is gonna be served soon. And I’ll be having half of your portion. That’s just how it is. You can see my size, right?" She patted her massive stomach. "I got a shape to maintain."
Cynthia's jaw tightened. "That won’t be possible."
The air between them thickened instantly. Ashley’s playful smirk faded, and something far more menacing took its place.
"Who the fuck is gonna stop me? Huh? You?" Ashley growled, stepping up onto Cynthia’s bed, the mattress groaning under her weight.
Cynthia’s back pressed harder against the wall as Ashley closed the space between them. The metal bedframe rattled as Ashley crouched slightly, towering over her like a predator ready to strike.
"You think you got a choice in this? You don't. " Ashley's breath was hot against Cynthia's face. "You should count yourself lucky I’m even feeling generous today. Usually, I take everything. First meal, second meal... sometimes, I don’t let my roomies eat for days. But you? I’m letting you keep half. That’s what you call mercy."
Cynthia’s stomach churned. The woman was enjoying this— her dominance, her control, the sheer terror she instilled. Cynthia could feel her own pulse hammering in her throat, her fists clenching around the blanket she still gripped.
Ashley leaned in even closer, her grin widening. "This is my room. My rules. And if you don’t like ‘em, well..." She cracked her knuckles deliberately. "You know what happens to girls who don’t follow the rules, right?"
Cynthia didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She just kept her eyes locked onto Ashley’s, refusing to look away this time. Refusing to cower any further.
Ashley smirked. "That’s what I thought."
Then, just as suddenly as she’d climbed up, Ashley pulled away. The bedframe creaked as she stepped off, her heavy boots hitting the floor with a thud. She walked back to her own bed and flopped down onto it, stretching like a lazy cat.
"Remember, sweetheart," she said with a yawn, "if you even think about testing me, I’ll make your life a living fucking nightmare. Welcome to my zone bitch."