East Branch Correctional Facility, Nevada

"Welcome home, Jones." The guard said before smashing him in the gut with a rifle and collapsing Jones on the ground. Two more guards hauled the handcuffed gang leader and hauled him out of the prison bus to prison building alongside the other incoming inmates, tasers and clubs in hand.

"We all look forward to having you as a permanent guest in Satan's asshole."

East Branch Correctional Facility was the toughest prison in Las Vegas and quite possibly all of Nevada. The cells all had bulletproof doors that locked without keys and could only be accessed from the master control room. There were no windows. The beds were all bolted down. There were no blankets or pillows allowed. First time prisoners were not allowed anything except sanitary items- not even books. Guards carried out surprise inspections at any given time of the day anytime they wished and were far more prone to deadly force than at other state prisons.

But most notoriously, the senior members of the Aryan Brotherhood, the Mexican Mafia, the United Black Nation, and the Dragonheads all resided in the prison. All 4 gangs commanded more power over the prison than even the warden and they got a cut of everything.

"Oh shit!" A Filipino inmate yelled when he saw Jones. His cellmates gathered at the door to get a peek.

"The fuck!? Is that who I think it is?" A Chinese inmate at another cell. shouted as the guards escorted Jones across the hallway.

"Jonesy boy! How's it poppin' cracka bitch!?" A Black inmate yelled as he and his friends flashed gang signs at him.

Prisoners inside their cells noticed the latest newcomer. Hollers and jeering laughter boomed through the prison building. Many of them were in the prison because of Jones and his crew. Many of them flashed obscene sexual gestures at Jones. He hadn't even stepped into the building and they all knew who he was from the get-go and more importantly, why he was here. Every gang in prison, even his own White brothers, had a price on his head. There wouldn't be enough zeroes to pay every inmate to get a stab at the prison's newest, most hated prisoner. Truly, it was better for sex offenders to simply shoot themselves dead than to be spend a day in the state's worst prison.

The guards took Jones to the lower levels of the massive prison complex. the place started to resemble a top-secret military installation more than a prison. Three guards, armed with rifles packed with rubber bullets, silently approached them.

Jones said something in a muffled voice but the guard silenced him with a jab from the baton. There was no talking in the dark, sunless depths of the prison. It was where Jones would spend the rest of his hopefully short life.

The 3 new guards took over and put a black bag over Jones's face so he couldn't see where he was being led. to take Jones down to the prison's 3rd and lowest level. All prisoners in the cells at the bottom of the prison were the most dangerous inmates of the prison. The heads of the 4 major gangs were all there. The most dangerous men of the prison were all isolated- all but one.

The guards and Jones passed through another checkpoint where four more guards, now fully armed with rifles with live rounds, as well as a guard dog took over.

They got to a final door, which was isolated, even by the standards of the East Branch Prison's lowest floor.

Two guard trained their weapon at the door while the other guards inserted two keys and turned simultaneously to open the door.

Jones was then forced to the ground as the guards unlocked his cuffs. The dog snarled above him. Then one of them removed his blindfold.

"Get in." The guard pointed the rifle down at Jones.

Jones slowly stood and stared into the huge dark room. The room was poorly lit and half of the cell was pitch black. The guard dog barked and the guard prodded Jones with the rifle tip.

"GET IN." The guard said, louder this time. Jones stepped inside the room when the guard gave him a strong kick that knocked him off his feet before the door locked and the keys turned. Jones sprang to his feet and looked around the room. There was no one in there. For a few seconds, Jones couldn't hear anything in the cell except his own breathing. Then he heard something, a great weight shifting on the other end of the cell and a deep groan.

"Shit!" He whirled around in fight position, sticking close to the light and waiting for his attacker to step into the light.

"Who the fuck is there?" He said.

Jones didn't understand it. Inmates residing lowest level of the prison were all in solitary confinement. Why had he alone been placed with a cellmate?

"Who the fuck is it!?" Jones yelled, trying to keep his voice steady.

No answer. Then there was a deep, chilling laugh as the figure stood up and approached the light. Jones's wide eyes traveled up the huge figure as his mouth fell open in shock.

Easily 7 feet tall and over 400 pounds, a gargantuan Samoan inmate leered down at Jones. His sheer mass made even guys as big as Vinnie and Ortega look like schoolboys. It took only a moment for Jones to recognize him.

"Evans." He gasped.

"Earthquake" Evans was the reigning champion of the King of Titans Wrestling circuit. The man was a legend in the ring and even Ortega was afraid of facing in his prime. Right before their upcoming match 10 years ago, Evans was convicted of murder and sentenced- at the same prison in the same cell that Keith Jones would be in for the rest of his life.

"So, this is the legendary Keith Jones." Evans said. "We finally meet."

Jones swung at his cellmate. His fist sank into the man's chest as if it was silly putty. The man showed no reaction: it was as if Jones kicked a mattress. Keith punched the man several more times. The man still showed no response.

He threw a kick at the man's groin, but the man sidestepped with shocking quickness for such a huge figure, caught his leg, lifted Keith clear off the ground and slammed him to the ground. Then he fell on top of Keith and grabbed him in a chokehold. Keith wheezed and gasped, flailing about helplessly, on the verge of passing out from lack of air. The man let him go and stood up. Keith waited to catch his breath then swung his foot at the man's legs, trying to kick them out from under him. His foot bounced off the man's fat legs as if he kicked a sandbag. He threw several more punches and kicks, but they bounced harmlessly off the behemoth. Nothing Jones did seemed to faze him. Earthquake Evans again slammed him to the ground and got him in a chokehold. It was like a child fighting a grown man.

"I knew I'd have a cellmate. Had no idea it would be you of all people."

Evans let him go and threw him to the ground.

"So why the fuck am I here with you!?" Keith yelled. "In the max security level of the prison where every fucker gets a cell to himself!?" He wasn't going to stay inmates with this disgusting tub of pork for the rest of his prison sentence.

"You askin' me? Whoever was calling the shots did your White trash ass a favor." Evans sat back down at his bunk, chuckling. "Normally, sex offenders are released into gen pop like everyone else. But someone high up there gave you special treatment and asked you to be put in with me." Evans laughed again.

Keith's eyes darted about the room for a potential weapon he could use against Evans while the huge Samoan was asleep.

"So how long you gonna be here?" Evans sat back lazily like a tiger eyeing a trapped deer.

Keith faced him ready to fight. "Long enough to choke the life out of your 400- pound Samoan ass."

Evans sighed. "Seriously, my guy?" The huge Samoan wrestler sat back up, towering over Keith again. He held out his fat arms. "Do you know where you're at? Even if your redneck ass kills me, which you can't, where do you think the guards are gonna put you? Right the fuck back into gen pop. You ain't never gettin' shit to yourself, Jonesy boy. Everyone up there…" He pointed up at the ceiling with a sausage-sized finger wants a piece of your cracka ass. Even your own White brothas in the AB. The second you step into the sun, there's 200 homies eyeballin' every which way your ass turns."

Keith couldn't believe his situation. The guards had put him with the prison's most dangerous inmate for no other reason than to show leverage over him. But Evans wasn't finished.

"As for little old me," Evans pointed at himself with both hands. "I've been here close 20 years now. I got 3 years left. Maybe less depending on what the parole board says. But until then, I have to… relieve a little stress, you see. But until I get out…" He paused.

"You get to be my bitch."

Keith's blood turned cold. A strange, unfamiliar form of fear descended on him as he realized the true extent of his predicament.

Evans laughed as he began pacing back and forth in front of Keith. "So that is my proposal. The guards down in Block C all know me. If I say you good to stay, they ain't gonna move you. If I say no go, then your ass is goin' up to gen pop"

Evans sat back down, smiling. "You just need to say the word anytime. You don't like it down here with me, I give the guards the word and they move your ass right back up to gen pop."

Keith was paralyzed.

"Just 2-3 years, tough guy. Just need to tough it out for that long. You're gonna be in here long after I'm gone anyway."

"Think about it. I'll give you a day to decide." Evans rolled over in bed and fell asleep as Keith fought not to think about the choices that had been laid before him. The former army ranger was faced with either spend the next 2-3 years being a sex slave to this disgusting tub of pork or refuse and be placed back in general population where would likely be continuously sexually assaulted by the numerous other inmates baying for his blood. Such was the punishment of all sex offenders who entered East Branch Corrections Facility.

Keith slumped against the ground in defeat. Though the former special forces soldier said nothing, his choice was already made. His only hope was that Evans would have the courtesy to kill him once he got out.