Main >> Hobbies & Interests >> My First Home Page

 
Satanic Badges
Satanic Badges
 By:  Bradley D. Chapline
Page 3
Suddenly, much to my relief, Sweet said, "Okay boss, you got it.  I'll make sure no one fucks with you.  Is that okay boss"?  Arrogantly, and aggressively I said, "No it isn't.  Don't call me boss again.  I hate the Klu Klux Klan, Aryan's, rednecks, and all those devil worshipping satanic bastards".  Sweet gave me a stunned look.  I then said, "My name is Officer Crossley".  I had now toned down my voice to a civil level.  I extended my arm out in an offering to shake his hand.  We both smiled at each other and shook hands.  I thought, "My God, this guy has the grip of a vice".  It took all I had to keep from showing the pain that my hand was in.  I then told Sweet, "I know your television and boom box don't work anymore.  I got no problems with you taking another inmates television and music box.  I won't say anything.  I guarantee you that you'll be covered.  Just make sure you take it from one of those racist bitch mother fuckers".  Sweet smiled and then said, "Mr. Crossley, just give me a minute to walk out on the tier before you come out of my cell".  
     When I walked out to the tier the east cell block was all but cleared.  There was just normal inmate traffic.  The entire unit looked as though nothing had happened.  I then proceeded down to my control center.  Approximately 15 minutes later Sweet came to my side door of control.  He asked if he could come inside.  I warmly greeted and invited him inside.  Sweet advised me to the normal daily operation of the unit and the institution as a whole.  It was quite fair to say that Sweet trained me in detail.  It was the best training I would ever receive for many a year as a corrections officer.
     It had been a draining first day on the job.  It was now time for me to be relieved of duty.  I had made it!!!  This day from hell was over.  I was now heading northbound back on the highway heading for home.  At about 4:30PM I drove in to the parking lot of my apartment complex.  I was certainly glad to be home in the slums.  When I walked inside of my apartment, my wife asked me to take the rent check to the manager's office.  She said she would meet me at her parents place thereafter.  I knew my son was playing at his grandfathers.  I didn't say anything.  But, I was angered.  I didn't want that bastard Nick anywhere around my son.  I walked proudly in my uniform in to the manager's office.  This complex was managed by a husband and wife team.  The husband was named Bart.  He was in his 50's and and was extremely fat.  He was 5'6" and a good 375 lbs. of motionless lard.  His function at this complex was to handle all maintenance requirements.  His wife was named Gina.  An outright slut who was in her mid to late 40's.  For her age, she had a decent body.  But, she had a face and mouth like a public toilet that hadn't been cleaned in years.  Gina handled all the administrative duties.  It was a typical sight in their office.  Bart's fat body poured in to an old worn out lounge chair.  Gina was on the telephone talking her normal sexual trash.  Gina then looks up and sees me standing in front of her.  Her eyes start glowing.  She hangs up the phone immediately.
     Gina says in a soft sexual tone, "Hi Dean, I heard you work as a guard for the prison"?  Gina had a low cut top on.  She now leans forward making sure I can see her sagging tits.  I thought, "Christ sake, I wouldn't fuck this with somebody elses pecker".  Gina now realizes that I'm not interested.  "Paying your rent today", she says in a business like manner.  "By the way Dean, did you know my son is in prison"?  I thought, "Gee this is a fuckin' surprise".  Gina then asked me where I worked in this facility.  I told her unit 3.  Gina becomes excited, "Wow, that is where my son Luis is.  Do you know him?  You two will probably become friends".  I now have cause to believe that this greasy, old worn out Italian slut is going to try to compromise me.  But, I well realize I have to keep my cool.  I live in her complex.  My in-laws also live here.  Most importantly,  I am on a one year probation.    
     Gina then asks, "Would you take some mail to my son for me when you go to work in the morning?  Don't worry honey, I definitely won't tell anybody".  I politely told Gina, "I'm sorry, I can't do that.  I would get in to a lot of trouble".  I was relieved to be out of that office.  I then proceeded several doors down to my my in-laws place.  It was the same scene as usual.  The living room was smoke filled with no ventilation.  Nick's fat ass lying in his lounge chair watching his precious fucking cable television.  Vera standing by, waiting to adhere to Nick's next command.  My son was on the floor playing with his blocks.  He is covered from head to toe in cat hair.  I thought, "God what a disgusting fucking place".  
     The next two weeks were relatively quiet.  Nick's health was declining quickly.  Suddenly, on a Saturday night, I get a call from Vera.  She is frantic.  "Nick is in really bad shape.  He must go to the hospital immediately".  I drove my wife, son and mother-in-law to the hospital.  Upon our arrival we discover that Nick is in intensive care.  The prognosis is not good.  Nick had been given his last rites.  Only one person was allowed in Nick's room at a time to say goodbye.  I decided I would go in last.  I really didn't want to see him at all.  I had nothing fruitful or comforting to say.  I reflected for a couple of hours of why I had hated this man so much.  It was now my turn to go in and say goodbye to Nick.  The session was short and sour.  Nick had that scared look in his eyes.  I had been accustomed to seeing this type of look right before a person dies.
     Nick slowly reached over and took my hand.  "Dean, take care of my family".  I gently said to Nick, "I think I'll do better then you have".  I then pulled my hand away from his.  I spent the next 30 or so seconds staring coldly in to his eyes.  I then walked out.  Approximately five minutes later I saw a group of nurses running in to Nick's room.  It was too late.  Nick had passed away.
     For the next week I was on family death leave.  When my leave expired I was actually glad to be back at work.  I got back to unit 3 and discovered that Sweet was no longer there.  He had been transferred to the maximum security institution named Running Springs Correctional Center.  It was located approximately 112 miles north of the Stateline Correctional Center.  Sweet fell behind in taking his psych medications.  He had gone off on another inmate.  It took a group of seven officers and five inmates to get Sweet restrained.  I sensed a lot of tension amongst the inmate population.  While I was on leave a young black female officer worked my housing unit.  We became good friends as we got to know each other.  Her name was Paula Washington.  On a Thursday morning Paula was again assigned to work unit 3.  I was reassigned to work roving the yard.  There was three of us assigned to this position.  We were all in the sergeant's office being subjected to Buelton's boring fucking stories.  When suddenly, a cry for help comes over the radio.  It was Paula.  I recognized her voice.  Sgt. Buelton said, "Alright, you guys get down there to that unit quickly".  I was the first officer out the door.  I went on a full blast run towards the entry door of unit 3.  I turned around to see where my backup was before I entered the unit.    

 

page created with Easy Designer