Curse of the Asuune

Chapter 7

Mark woke in a strange bed, staring at the ceiling. He was afraid to look around because by the look of the ceiling, he was in jail. The stiffness of the bed under him suggested the same thing. Mark struggled for an explanation of what had happened to his life. Yesterday, at least he thought it was yesterday, his biggest concern was that he might get caught touching his daughter's cell phone. Today his wife was dead, and he was in jail for her murder. How had this happened? Who would want to hurt Jen and blame him for it? And why did they think the real estate agent was Jen's boyfriend? Jen would never cheat on him, not that she didn't have men interested in her, she was gorgeous. It was just that she was as very married as he was, at least that's what he thought yesterday.

What's more, this house was so she could have a second child, be the stay at home mother that she dreamed of being. Spend time with Katie before she went off to college. Why would Jen cheat on him and then invite him to the house? No, this didn't make sense at all. Someone must have set this up.

Mark reluctantly sat up and looked around the cell. Yep, he was in jail. Across from him was a rather rough looking man with a scraggly beard and a bald head. The man must have been three hundred pounds and six foot five by Mark's estimate, and he did not look kind.

Mark heard the officers at the desk whispering.

"He killed his wife and her lover? That scrawny dude? You've got to be kidding," one officer said.

Good, at least there was doubt in someone. Surely, no one would believe this idiotic tale. What's more, he could get people to testify that they were very much in love, and Jen wasn't cheating. Mark felt better, people would surely believe him when the facts started coming out. Then he heard the other officer.

"He had an accomplice. We think he or she drugged them so that this Mark guy could torture them. We're looking into this guy's friend Sarah, no last name on file; we think she might have helped him plan it out. Might have even been the one that drugged them, either that or they hired someone to do it." The second officer was sure that Mark had done it, and Sarah was somehow involved as well.

Mark's stomach sank. Sarah had nothing to do with this, and what about Katie? Mark and Jen had papers written up, leaving Katie in Sarah's custody if anything ever happened to them. If they thought that Sarah had helped kill Jen, then what would happen to Katie?

"Damnit!" Mark yelled. He was getting angry now, this all seemed like some sick joke. Whoever planned this out must be laughing their ass off about now.

The large man across from Mark sat up and stared uncaringly at him.

"So you're alive, good. Don't want another dead body across from me. Now shut the hell up so I can get some sleep! And don't touch nothin," the large man snarled before laying back down.

"Sorry," Mark replied quietly.

Then he realized, he hadn't made his phone call. Who could he call? If they were investigating Sarah, a call from him might make her look more guilty. A lawyer! He needed a lawyer!

"Officer!" Mark shouted as he walked to the bars of his cell. "I'm ready for my phone call!"

"I said, SHUT THE HELL UP!" the large man shouted, sitting up again.

"Sorry again, but I need to get a lawyer," Mark apologized.

The large man stood up and towered over Mark. The man reached out his hand and grabbed Mark's arm, spinning him around. Then the enormous man grabbed Mark's other arm and lifted him a few inches off the ground.

"When I say shut the hell up, I mean, don't even breathe loudly. I don't care about your old lady, don't care about your lawyer. I killed my old lady and don't give a s**t about your whiney ass." The man tossed Mark back on top of his bed and laughed.

Mark lost it, this was one thing too many. Mark stood up, he didn't care if this man would snap his neck. Maybe if this man killed him, then they would leave Sarah alone, and Katie could go live with her. At least the pain of losing Jen would be gone.

Mark was not an experienced fighter, in fact, he had never gotten in a fight before. Using what little he had gleaned from watching TV, he pulled his fist back and thrust it forward at the man's chest. The large man stood there with a smile on his face and watched Mark's feeble attempt at a punch, until it hit him. The sound of cracking bones was unmistakable, and the large man fell backward on his bunk, holding his chest.

"f**k! What the hell are you! I think my ribs are broke! Guards! Medic! Someone! Get this freak away from me!" the large man screamed.

Just then, Mark realized what he had done. He had given them evidence against him. If he could beat up this man, twice his size, he could have easily subdued Jen and the real estate agent.

The officers came rushing to the cell door and fumbled with the keys trying to open it.

"What the f**k!" one officer yelled. "Call the doctor!"

The large man continued to yell and hold his chest.

"Against the wall!" the other officer yelled at him, and Mark put his hands against the opposite wall.

"I want my phone call, I have the right to an attorney," Mark said forcefully as he stood against the wall.

Just then, Mark looked at his arm as it stretched out before him. He had muscles on his forearms. He looked down his outstretched arm until he saw his biceps and there were muscles there too. What was going on? His new muscles were not large like a bodybuilder, more like a professional athlete, a fighter maybe. Muscles that were trained for strength.

"You'll get your phone call, just don't move until we get Claud to the medic," the officer said with his Taser pointed at Marks back.

"Yes, sir. It was an accident. I didn't mean to hurt him," Mark said then immediately regretted it. An accident was even worse than trying to break someone's ribs. An accident meant that he was more dangerous than they originally thought. He was digging himself in deeper by the second.

"You keep your accidents against that wall, or I'll taze you," the officer said nervously.

"Yes, sir," Mark said, then stood in silence against the wall.