"It was a pretty good fight.", the enforcer who led you back to your cell was young, maybe too young to be left alone with a predator like you.

Unlike most others in his profession, he didn't have a gas mask yet and the goggles with the mirrored lenses hung from a much too long strap around his neck.

Sceptically, you eyed him over your shoulder. Like all the other prison guards, he was armed with a simple pistol, a baton and a lightly armoured uniform.

White, blue and gold were the colours of Piltover's enforcers, the protectors of law and order of the golden city. Where you came from, men were spat on for showing these colours.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned round again and trudged along the long corridor. Walls of endless concrete loomed over your head, threatening to crush your skull like an insect.

If there was one thing the Stillwater Hold prison could do, it was make one feel smaller and more insignificant than a worm. It was built to break the spirit and mind of anyone trapped in this place.

Many got in but no one got out. At least not if as a prisoner.

"I'm in the mood for lemonade today.", you said casually as you walked around a corner.

Cold, dirty light flickered in the small lanterns on the walls. There were no windows on the lower levels, only heavily secured air shafts that did not do their job.

Everything else would have been too much a risk. Even though Stillwater Hold Prison was one like any other it had something quite unique about it.

While the upper levels hosted the common scum, thieves, rebels and other kinds of criminals, the levels below ground were reserved for far worse.

Simple assault didn't earn someone a spot in these cells. No, it had to be far worse and far more brutal than that. Lost in thoughts you eyed every single one of your metallic fingernails.

You knew.

"Also, I need new sheets.", you said over your shoulder and rounded another corner.

The place was constructed like a maze to confuse possible fugitives. Even the prison guards didn't seem to know how things exactly worked so most carried a small blueprint of the corridors.

You had never tried to remember any routs. A breakout was useless anyways and up until now life down here could have been a whole lot worse.

Yes you were a prisoner.

And yes, you had to fight in illegal arena fights to keep the enforcers entertained.

But at the same time you enjoyed three warm meals a day, had a bed of your own with clean sheets and a mattress and were dry and warm for the most part.

All of these things were something you hadn't been used to before. It was a hard pill to swallow but life outside prison was a whole lot worse.

At least for you.

Without a word you stopped in front of one of the many empty cells of the block and waited for the newbie enforcer to grab his set of keys.

Metall tingled. Small beads of water dripped from a leaking pipe not far. It was an even rhythm, so even that it almost made you want to scratch your ears out.

Since only the very bad guys were thrown down here there weren't a lot of people around to make conversation with. Life could get quite lonely.

And thoughts grew loud sometimes.

Creaking, the heavy metal door swung open. The enforcer didn't even have to tell you to get in, you just did with a huff.

Picking fights was something childish and stupid. You already had enough scars to show off and were not fond of the feeling of sore flesh and a black eye in the morning.

With a nod, you acknowledged that the enforcer had done his job as the door fell shut again. A clicking sound indicated that it locked.

"Lemonade.", you repeated your request. "And clean sheets."

A little confused he remained standing in front of the bars. There was that kind of excitement shimmering in the brown of his eyes.

Almost like a kid who had just met his idol.

Annoyed, you frowned and let out a low sound of mockery.

"You're not very bright, are ya, kid..?", you asked under your breath and turned away towards the shadows of the cell.

But within two steps a strange feeling overcame you. Something was off and it wasn't just the fact that this clearly wasn't the cell you had woken up in this morning.

A strange vibe was in the air. Almost like this place wasn't just meant for you. Wrapped in silence you let your gaze wander through the dark.

Like every cell there wasn't a lot to look at besides a simple bed mounted to the wall, a chair with a table that barely fit one and a place to wash and relief oneself.

As per usual the space was meant to fit two prisoners. However you hadn't shared a cell with anyone anymore ever since you had sliced a cell mates hand off for taking your favourite book.

After that incident the prison management had decided to deem you unfit for sharing a cell. Although you were pretty sure that hadn't been the only reason.

After all other prisoners would get suspicious if their cell mates left in the morning and returned completely covered in blood and bruises.

Of if they didn't come back at all.

Even though this was a prison and everyone down here was a criminal who'd never see the light of day again there were strict rules.

And the arena was a secret better kept than the history of how the Kiramman Family made it to the position of council member.

With narrowed eyes you turned back to face the enforcer. Tiling your head, one eyebrow lifted you asked a silent question that he didn't seem to catch.

"What is this?", you asked and look around once more only to catch the glimpse of something velvet in the corner of your eyes.

He shrugged.

"Ordered by the Piltover sheriff.", he just said.

You frowned.

"What order?"

All of a sudden an arm came to rest around your neck.

"Surprise!", a snarky voice exclaimed. "Congrats on your new bunkie!"