Inmate 1577

32

MacNally had finally fallen asleep. He was dozing and dreaming of Henry when he felt a firm hand clamp down on his mouth. His eyes shot open-but before he could react, two arms swung him onto his stomach and his head was buried in the pillow. A heavy weight climbed on top of his legs.

A hand grasped the waistband of his pants and yanked hard, nearly ripping the fabric and pulling them down. His legs were pried apart.

MacNally tried to twist his neck, to free it, to call out, to bite-something defensive-but whoever had a grip on the back of his head had his face pressed so firmly into the pillow he had tremendous difficulty breathing. His attacker’s other hand was applying such a powerful downward force between his shoulders that fighting back was impossible. He was, essentially, locked down in place.

Voorhees’s words echoed in his mind, and he instantly knew what was coming. A second later, he felt something hard penetrate his anus. And it hurt, ripping pain as he tightened and tried to fight it-but with his legs splayed apart, he couldn’t muster any strength to keep the sphincter closed.

MacNally swung his elbows back, hoping to make contact with something, to just get him to stop, but he struck hard objects-muscle, he figured-and the attack continued. Finally, minutes later, the rapist shuddered and his body stiffened, and then all movement ceased. The man pulled out and the weight lifted from MacNally’s body.

He was able to lift his head-but a different set of hands immediately took over, shoving his face down into the pillow.

No air, can’t breathe-

And another body mounted him from behind.

This time the rape was more forceful. MacNally now had a sense as to whom had gone first-Carl-and now hard-bodied Kurt was taking his own ride.

MacNally was as Voorhees had predicted. A lop.

Carl and Kurt were predators. And he was locked in a cell, imprisoned in more ways than one, with no end in sight.

In fact, it was just beginning.