What's The Catch

Emma had been in the private institution of correction – or so they called it, for two weeks now.

Her roommate has introduced himself to her two nights ago as they were headed to their room after the days activities. It was rather a monosyllabic conversation.

"Daniel " Emma heard him say. Shocked, she went a little closer to him. She had become a little comfortable with him, if she could say so herself.

"What?"

"My name. Daniel." And that was it, he said nothing more no matter how much she tried to get him to talk.

She had yet to be touched even when she was not directly with her roommate. She was on sanitary duty, or as they called it, shit duty, for the first week. The following week, she was sent to the kitchen to work.

But even though she had not been touched or even harassed, she could tell that the men were becoming increasingly antsy, angst and potentially restless. Lust was thick in the air and in their countenances and under their trousers wherever she went. With each passing day, she became more and more self-conscious. She did her best to stick close to the crazy roommate of hers that did not seem to even notice her anymore.

It gave her a weird feeling. She ought to be happy that her roommate did not react the same way as the other hardened animals in the prison, but it made her feel inadequate. Bad as it might be, the reaction from those men was a reminder that she was a woman and a beautiful one at that – not that the men would care that much about her looks anyway. But then, there is her mad roommate that did not give her a second look. He made her feel like she was just below average and not worth his time.

Eventually, a group of men that made up of one of the many gangs in the penitentiary, finally decided to take action, willing to dare to stand up to Emma's mad and incredibly feared roommate. The Bull Horns, as they called themselves, gathered together during the day, while her roommate was out-back doing shit duty and Emma was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes that were used for breakfast.

The Bull Horns entered the kitchen and signaled every worker in there outside. They immediately scurried out, without daring to question.

Their leader, a brown, spanish man with toned, muscular physique and a large tattoo of an angry, charging bull on his back, stepped out. Unlike his seven other men that were practically drooling and had bulging trousers, he had a little more self-control.

"Emma, right?" He asked, extending his hand to her for a shake.

Emma did not take it. Instead she nodded and replied, keeping an eye out for any opportunity to run away from them. Possibly lock them in the kitchen as well, so that she would have more time to find her roommate and hide under his wings like a chick to its mother hen in the presence of hawks. Until then, she had to find ways to stall and keep this conversation going.

"Yes, Emma it is." She said as calmly as she could. She had to ensure that even though her heart was pounding in her chest so hard, fast and painfully, she did not let it show. It would only excite these animals even more.

"I am sure you have heard of me and my boys already, but I would like to introduce myself…" He paused and looked at his boys behind him that all had their eyes on Emma, ogling her and were already losing themselves in their own dirty fantasies. He sneered, and chuckled. "I mean, I would like to introduce us officially to you."

"Okay." Emma urged on, not knowing what to say. In the end, she was not one for conversations and was more skilled at ending them than she was at starting or keeping them going.

"I am Redbull, that bozo by my far right is Gore, then Steven,…." He introduced each one of them.

"Hi!" Emma greeted with a wave of her hands and introduced herself. "I am Emma and I am the mad man's roommate."

Redbull nodded with a short laugh.

"Of course we know. We are here to strike a deal with you."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"What is the deal about?"

"You see, Emma. Your arrival in this noble dwelling of ours has caused a great stir. So great a stir, that rival gangs have stopped paying attention to one another. There's barely any fights anymore. You know why? Because their minds are filled with only one thought. A singular focus. One word. One sentence…" He leaned forward and whispered. "One name. 'Emma'."

Emma gave a short, dry, phlegmy laugh. She had wanted it to be light and innocent-like but had failed at it. The laugh sounded like gravel against pavement.

"I am flattered." She said with a forced smile.

"Oh! I am sure you are. Who would not be? Which lady does not want to be the center of all attention? Only those who wish to deceive themselves. And I know of a certainty that you are not one who deceives herself, are you?" Redbull asked, taking a step forward to close the distance between him and Emma.

Emma was conscious enough to notice that cunning move and took a step back as well, in sync with him, successfully maintaining the distance between them.

"The only issue here now, is that all that attention in a fine establishment as this is never a good thing. It means you have a lot of people you will have to deal with. And once you encounter one, you are going to start encountering the others as well. And seeing as you are a lady of such decent background, I am sure, we, the Bull Horns decided to meet with you first before any others made a move to offer you our sincerest help and stretch forth a hand of friendship and comradeship."

He stretched forth his hand for another handshake.

Emma looked at it and at his face.

"What is the catch?" She asked briefly looking behind him at his men that had begun to encircle her in a half-circle.

Redbull laughed. He was amused.