Reservoir Dogs chapter 15

Zhou Ge

Because of the incident in the laundry room, Xiao Zhou made enemies in prison. He had been a lone wolf before, but now that he was involved, he was on everyone’s bad side and became an outcast. Outcasts naturally attracted collective aggression, and if it were just isolation, he wouldn’t mind; he was used to being alone. But these people sought revenge, so every corner was a trap, every moment a threat.

After several ambushes, neither side gained the upper hand.

Although Xiao Zhou was skilled in fighting, he wasn’t foolish. Knowing he had no advantage, he changed his tactics. After several clashes, they barely ended in a draw. While he didn’t aim to kill, he showed no mercy in fighting fiercely.

The incidents caused such a stir that it alarmed the higher-ups. The ones involved were reprimanded and then confined to a solitary cell for reflection.

This time was different. For five consecutive days, Xiao Zhou had only a bit of water and no food.

When he was dragged out, he could barely stand and had to be supported by others to walk. His lips were cracked, his stomach empty, and he felt dizzy and weak. The guards threw him back into the cell.

He lay on the bed, barely conscious, his lips bitten until they bled, and he had sucked the blood dry. His stomach had felt like it was being twisted into knots and as if his organs were devouring themselves. Once hunger reached its peak, he felt numb and didn’t even feel hungry anymore, just cold and shivering, his vision blackening, and his mind in a daze.

If he went out tomorrow and was cornered, he wouldn’t have the strength to fight back. Five days of solitary confinement had drained the last bit of his strength and spirit. For the first time, he felt so close to death. Initially terrified, he then felt a sense of resignation. A life for a life—he had debts to pay, and dying seemed fair and just, sparing him from further torment.

He still hadn’t forgotten the expression on Li Xin’s mother’s face during the first trial. Her look was vicious, as if she wanted to grind her teeth on his bones and suck his blood, crying, “A life for a life! Why should he only be locked up for a few years while my son has to die?”

The cries were shrill and blood-curdling, making him shiver with a chill that ran up his spine when he closed his eyes.

Slowly, he drifted into unconsciousness. In a daze, he heard a commotion from the adjacent cell. The sound insulation was poor, but the noises reached his ears without entering his brain to process. It just felt noisy, like a swarm of buzzing bees.

He frowned slightly, seemed to wake up a bit, but soon his thoughts sank deeper and darker.

He didn’t know how long he had slept when the iron bed under him shook, followed by his body being pushed. He felt someone continuously pushing him, calling his name.

His lips touched something that, once dissolved by saliva, had a maltose-like sweetness, sliding down his throat into his stomach smoothly. Instinctively, he began to chew ravenously. He was so hungry that the sweet taste was addictive, like opium. Seeing him eat so eagerly, the person feeding him slowed down.

With something in his stomach, his mind became clearer. Xiao Zhou slowly woke up and saw Stutterer sitting on his bed, holding a small bowl of water, soaking bread to soften it and feeding it to him.

Seeing him awake, Stutterer sighed in relief and stammered, “Zhou, Zhou-ge.” The voice was almost unintelligible.

The cell was very dark; there was no moon that night, only a thick, heavy fog. Xiao Zhou couldn’t see Stutterer’s face clearly, only his eyes, which initially seemed sly but now were filled with joy.

Xiao Zhou chewed the bread slowly, his throat no longer as dry thanks to the water. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Stutterer smiled shyly.

After eating the bread and drinking some water, Xiao Zhou felt satisfied, his stomach full and warm. He was tired and soon fell asleep again. Before dozing off, he felt something warm beside him, as if Stutterer hadn’t left and was sleeping beside him.

Xiao Zhou found it odd but was too exhausted to think about it and fell asleep.

It was the most restful sleep he had had in a long time, relaxed and comfortable, with no dreams, until morning.

But upon waking, he felt something was wrong. His body was sticky and heavy, and his prison uniform was soaked with a strong, pungent smell of blood. When he touched the bed, his hand was covered in cold, thick liquid.

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up halfway to see Stutterer’s cold, stiff body lying beside him.

A sharpened toothbrush was lodged in Stutterer’s throat, his eyes bulging, unable to rest in peace even in death.

Blood flowed continuously from the wound in Stutterer’s throat, soaking Xiao Zhou’s bed and clothes. He had slept in the blood that drained from Stutterer’s body.

Xiao Zhou felt an initial chill, then started to shake. He wanted to scream but couldn’t make a sound.

The night had been too dark to see clearly. Now he noticed Stutterer’s body was bruised all over, his face swollen, with hardly a patch of intact skin, and his mouth corners were grazed.

He looked at the sharpened toothbrush handle, sticky with coagulated blood, and suddenly remembered seeing Stutterer sharpening something. It must have been this toothbrush.

Such a sharp weapon might have been intended for self-defense but ended up taking Stutterer’s life.

Soon, the other cellmates woke up, and their screams echoed through the dormitory at the horrific sight.

The guards came, sealed the scene, removed the body, and took everyone for questioning.

The conclusion was quick: Stutterer had committed suicide. The toothbrush had only his fingerprints, and the position and angle of the stab could only be self-inflicted.

But even a sharpened toothbrush was still plastic. To pierce someone’s throat required tremendous force and multiple attempts. How desperate must one be to endure such pain and repeated efforts to end their own life?

From the fragmented conversations, Xiao Zhou pieced together the reason for Stutterer’s suicide.

After he was put in solitary confinement, Stutterer became the target of beatings and bullying. But that was nothing; he endured it all.

When Xiao Zhou was released, he was on the verge of death due to starvation. To get bread and water, Stutterer went to beg from the neighboring cell and was gang-raped. He was used like an Omega, and it was said that the cell was particularly lively that night because he was obedient, so everyone enjoyed it. They tormented him for a long time before letting him drag his bruised and battered body back with the food.

That was why Xiao Zhou heard the noise that night.

Just a wall away, hellish events were happening, and he heard but didn’t pay attention.

He sat in the cafeteria, listening to some people talking as if they were speaking directly to him. The words invaded his ears and traveled along his nerves. His hanging fingertips began to tremble, clutching the coarse fabric of his pants.

He held a steel spoon, unconsciously scraping the bottom of the plate, making a piercing noise, and the spoon’s handle gradually bent in his hand.

“Did you know, that dead Stutterer could swallow three at once like a whore, born for it.”

A burst of lewd, filthy laughter.

“He wasted his life not being an Omega. Too bad he’s dead now; we can’t play with him anymore.”

“Just for a piece of bread, he’d go to such lengths. How low can he get?”

“If you gave him a cigarette, he’d probably play with a dog.”

Xiao Zhou suddenly stood up, crossed a few steps from his chair, and grabbed the speaker’s head, slamming it hard against the table, flipping it over in one blow.

The crowd scattered, and a fist came at him from behind.

Xiao Zhou turned, grabbing the fist with one hand, and the handle of the steel spoon in his other hand plunged into the person’s eye.

A horrific scream echoed as the person clutched their eye, wailing in terror, groping for help on the ground. The remaining people were terrified by the bloody scene and quickly retreated.

Someone else grabbed an iron tray from the table and smashed it towards Xiao Zhou. He didn’t dodge, just slightly turned his body, maintaining his forward stance, and accurately punched. The tray hit Xiao Zhou’s shoulder heavily, then fell to the ground.

His fist struck the person’s jaw, sending a tooth flying.

Everyone was stunned by this life-or-death, pain-ignoring fighting style.

Xiao Zhou seemed to see red, each move ruthless, the sound of joints breaking was deafening.

His fist came down, blood splattered like raindrops, with a few drops landing in his eye sockets, staining his retinas blood-red.

He grabbed the person’s hair, forcing him to lift his head. The person was already as weak as a ragdoll.

“Remember, his name wasn’t Stutterer. The person you killed was Luo Hao!”

The shrill alarm sounded continuously as a large number of prison guards rushed in. Red and blue lights flashed.

“Stop immediately! Cease resisting!”

Xiao Zhou was forcibly pulled away, his arms twisted behind his back painfully, his head pushed down, and his face pressed to the ground with a bang, scraping bloody marks on the rough cement.

He surrendered without resistance, accepting the arrest, but the blood-red in his eyes hadn’t faded. In a daze, he saw those seemingly cunning yet pure eyes of Stutterer again.

The blood dripping from his fist was still hot.

He later thought repeatedly, why did Luo Hao choose such a way to die, why die on his bed, by his side, in such a brutal, bloody manner.

Perhaps he just wanted to find some warmth before death, to sleep in a comforting place.

Or maybe he just wanted Xiao Zhou to remember him, to remember his sacrifice.

Luo Hao succeeded. Xiao Zhou could no longer sleep with anyone else, waking at the slightest noise, like a startled bird, having countless nightmares, drowning in blood.

Li Xin’s death didn’t shock him as strongly, it was too far away, but Luo Hao died beside him, making him truly feel what death meant.

Along with guilt for Li Xin resurfacing.

No one died in the final fight, but someone lost an eye, and someone was seriously injured.

Xiao Zhou got an additional three-year sentence.

Violence begets violence, and he had to bear the cost. Sitting in the visitation room, looking at his aging mother, he felt ashamed.

After that, his younger brother never visited him again.

Besides nightmares, Xiao Zhou would dream of things that seemed never to have happened in reality.

Like Luo Hao before his death, in his dying moments, blood draining from his body, he once grabbed Xiao Zhou’s hand, his throat convulsing, asking Xiao Zhou to save him again. The first time he asked, Xiao Zhou did, but this time he didn’t.

Then, “save me” became different mutterings, telling Xiao Zhou to live well, to get out for him, to live for him, to be a man for him.

But those words were impossible; the toothbrush handle had pierced his throat, making him unable to utter a sound.

Except for the desperate gasps, blood bubbling up.

——

The recollection was unbearably bitter.

Xiao Zhou lowered his head, his eyelids trembling. He hesitated no longer, pouring out the pills and swallowing them with the hotel suite’s bottled water.