It was quiet in prison, wing C. Most inmates were asleep. Some of them were awake, lying in their uncomfortable beds.
The door to wing C opened and a correctional officer entered. He was there for the nightly checkup. They wouldn’t want any convicts get funny ideas.
“Wake up, bitches!” he barked.
Slowly, mais to piss off the co than anything else, the inmates stepped out of their beds and walked to the front side of their cell.
The co walked por each and every cell, giving each inmate a disgusted look.
He stopped at Dean’s cell.
“Get your bunda out of bed, Winchester” he snapped. Dean lay still. “Come on, beauty sleep’s over. Get up now” Still no movement. The co brought his walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Open cell 15”
The cell opened and the co walked inside. Using his baton he removed the sheets and pressed hard on Dean’s shoulder.
When Dean still gave no sign of life, the co leaned progressivo, para a frente and put a finger on his neck.
“Damn it” he cursed. He turned back to the walkie-talkie. “I’ve got a dead one in cell 15”