Chapter 17 - The Final Sentence Of Carter Davis
Deep within the suffocating,
impenetrable concrete walls of the federal penitentiary,
Carter Davis paced furiously back and forth in his tiny,
damp cell.
He had been waiting in agonizing,
breathless anticipation for three days,
staring at the small,
barred window,
expecting to hear the news of Arthur Sterling's absolute destruction,
and anticipating his own miraculous,
triumphant release.
Julian Vance had promised him freedom,
Vance had promised him a massive fortune,
and most importantly,
Vance had promised him the sweet,
intoxicating taste of brutal revenge against the woman who had ruined his life.
Carter rubbed his bruised,
blistered hands together,
a twisted,
insane smile playing on his chapped,
bleeding lips,
imagining the look of absolute terror on my face when he finally ripped my son away from me.
Suddenly,
the heavy,
metal door at the end of the cellblock groaned loudly,
followed by the terrifying,
synchronized sound of heavy boots marching aggressively down the long,
fluorescent-lit corridor.
Carter rushed to the bars of his cell,
gripping the cold steel tightly,
his heart pounding with a sudden,
wild excitement,
assuming that Vance's highly paid lawyers had finally arrived with a federal release order.
But as the footsteps drew closer,
stopping directly in front of his dim,
miserable cell,
Carter's arrogant smile completely vanished,
replaced instantly by a cold,
paralyzing dread that froze the blood in his veins.
Standing on the other side of the thick iron bars,
flanked by the prison warden and four heavily armed tactical guards,
was Arthur Sterling,
looking like an avenging,
unstoppable god of absolute destruction.
My father was dressed in a pristine,
tailored black suit,
a stark,
jarring contrast to the filthy,
despairing environment of the maximum-security prison,
his presence alone dominating the entire,
suffocating space.
Carter stumbled backward,
his legs instantly turning to jelly,
his breath catching painfully in his throat,
as he stared into the cold,
deadly eyes of the man he had foolishly tried to betray again.
"Sterling,"
Carter gasped out,
his voice barely a weak,
trembling whisper,
"what are you doing here?"
"How did you get in here?"
My father did not answer immediately,
he simply stood there in absolute silence,
analyzing the pathetic,
broken creature cowering in the shadows,
savoring the overwhelming,
delicious taste of absolute victory.
The warden,
a large,
intimidating man who usually terrorized the inmates,
looked at my father with the utmost,
groveling respect,
nodding his head submissively.
"Open the cell,"
my father commanded quietly,
his voice echoing down the silent,
terrified cellblock,
where every other inmate held their breath,
sensing the arrival of a true apex predator.
The heavy lock clicked loudly,
and the iron door swung open with a harsh,
grinding screech,
allowing my father to step slowly,
methodically into the cramped,
foul-smelling space.
Carter pressed his back against the cold,
damp cinderblock wall,
his entire body shaking uncontrollably,
urine staining the front of his faded orange jumpsuit as absolute terror overwhelmed his fragile mind.
"Please,"
Carter begged,
tears streaming down his hollow,
gaunt cheeks,
"I didn't do anything,"
"I have been locked in this cage for five years,"
"I swear I didn't do anything!"
My father stepped closer,
invading Carter's personal space,
the overwhelming aura of raw,
unfiltered power suffocating Carter,
making it entirely impossible for him to draw a full breath.
"Julian Vance is currently watching his entire empire burn to the ground,"
my father stated calmly,
his voice a low,
lethal rumble that vibrated through the cold floorboards.
"His mercenaries are dead,"
"his accounts have been permanently seized by the federal government,"
"and his desperate,
pathetic attempt to harm my grandson has failed entirely."
Carter choked on a sob,
his eyes widening in absolute horror as the realization finally crashed down upon him,
shattering his final,
delusional hope of ever seeing the sun again.
"And your mother,"
my father continued,
a dark,
cruel smile touching the corners of his lips,
"is currently being heavily medicated in a secure psychiatric facility,"
"where she will spend the rest of her miserable days talking to the padded walls."
Carter sank to his knees,
burying his face in his trembling hands,
weeping loudly,
a pathetic,
broken sound that echoed off the cold walls of the prison.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Carter wailed,
"Just kill me,"
"just put a bullet in my head and get it over with!"
My father laughed,
a cold,
barren sound that held absolutely no humor,
only infinite,
unforgiving malice.
"Death is a gift, Carter,"
my father whispered harshly,
leaning down so his voice was directly in Carter's ear,
"and you do not deserve a single ounce of mercy."
"I arranged a special transfer for you today,"
my father explained,
standing back up,
adjusting his immaculate silk tie with perfectly calm,
steady hands.
"You are being permanently moved to a black site facility,"
"a subterranean prison located in the absolute middle of nowhere,"
"where the guards do not speak your language,"
"and the inmates are violent,
insane monsters who will ensure you suffer every single second of every single day."
Carter screamed,
a horrific,
gut-wrenching sound of absolute despair,
reaching out to grab my father's polished shoes,
begging wildly for a shred of mercy.
But the tactical guards instantly stepped in,
driving their heavy batons into Carter's ribs,
beating him brutally until he collapsed into a crying,
bloody heap on the dirty concrete floor.
My father turned his back on the pathetic scene,
walking calmly out of the cell,
the heavy iron door slamming shut behind him with a final,
resounding clang of absolute doom.
Carter Davis was finally,
permanently erased,
May you like
buried alive in a nightmare from which he would absolutely never,
ever wake up.
