"Get up!" The morning guard walked past all the cells as he had done every other morning with his baton in his hand, slamming it across every bar as he walked nosily down the hall. "Oh-six-hundred! Wakey wakey rise and shine princesses! Everyone up and at 'em!" He stopped and banged his baton against the bars a few extra times as he reached Elizabeth's cell. "Hey killer, six hours and transport will be here to ship you on off to Alcatraz all right. Get up! Now!"

Elizabeth rolled over onto her side and opened her green and slightly puffy eyes just enough to see the guard. "I've got six hours left to live you bastard and there ain't nothing that says I have to be up for all of them. Go on and fuck off for four and a half of them will you?"

"You little bitch, if you don't get up right now, I'll come in there and get you up!"

Something deep within the strict tone of his angry scream told Elizabeth that he meant it and she really should get out of the bed.

"Fine," Elizabeth sat up in her small bed and pulled the blankets up with her, "I'm up, are you happy now?"

The large and rather unattractive guard smiled a terrible smile of malice at her baring yellow, ugly teeth as she looked at him through one eye with indignation at the early wake up call on this day, of all fateful days in the world. The guard continued his noise making escapade, walking down the rest of the cells, and dragging his baton along the bars.

Elizabeth lay back down on her thin and uncomfortable mattress and somehow managed to fall back asleep and dream some very sweet things for a couple of hours.

* * * * *

"HEY!" It was the morning guard slamming his baton against the bars of Elizabeth's cell again and he still wasn't happy. "I said get up! You've got a visitor killer."

"What?" Elizabeth rolled over on her bed again and looked blurrily through her puffy eyes at the bars. Standing alongside the large guard was a small scrawny figure wearing a very nice dark coloured suit and a shockingly ugly tie with an incredibly overwhelming scent of cologne, which could have only belonged one person.

"Hello Elizabeth."

"Fuck off Nigel, and it's Mrs. Oldin to you these days thank you very much." She rolled back over onto her side so her back was facing the attorney and closed her tired eyes.

"I know you're upset and probably very angry with me Elizabeth, and I completely understand, I really do, I would be upset and angry at me too if I were you. But believe me I am going to file appeals, and go over all the little bits of evidence I can get my hands on and I'll do everything I possibly can to change things. We could even go for early parole if you're well behaved and I swear to you Elizabeth that I will find the evidence we need to have you acquitted of all charges. I know you didn't do it."

Elizabeth threw the blankets back and was out of the little bed and onto her bare feet in a split second, advancing upon Nigel. "You just don't get it do you! I have no hope Nigel! No one's going to believe my story! You argued my poor little case better than I could have ever hoped and I'm still going away for life! There's no way I will ever win! Save your breath for someone who's worth saving you idiot!"

"I believe you are Elizabeth," the now frustrated lawyer replied in a voice filled deeply with passion and conviction. He stood pressed up against the bars and looking deeply into her amazing green eyes.

Walking right up to the bars in both an intimidating and almost a seducing manner, Elizabeth stood so close to him that their faces were only inches apart. "Better watch what you say around here Nigel," Elizabeth whispered in her sweet and sultry voice, "there are some people around that might just start talking about us." She moved forward, closer to the bars and closer to Nigel so her lips were only a few centimeters away from his as she said the word 'talking' and she felt the warmth of her breath bounce back at her off his lips. "They might think that you're falling for 'The Dark Angel,' and what will the damning press make of that. Oh, it could put such a dampener on your oh so promising career."

Nigel stood there with his body pressed against the bars as still as a boulder, blushing a deeper and deeper shade of red by the second, but the look of conviction not once leaving his eyes.

"Why Mr. Summons," Elizabeth whispered so very seductively, her lips still so close to his. "Are you blushing?"

Nigel took a step back and broke eye contact with Elizabeth, the deep conviction instantly slipping, giving way to embarrassment. "I...I...ah..." he stuttered not able to find any words to say.

"Quiet," the dark angel whispered almost silently, not moving from where she was standing but gently entwining her fingers around the thick metal bars. "Come closer to the bars, Nigel, please."

Nigel cautiously stepped up to the bars once again, not quite so close this time though and raised his head to once again look Elizabeth in her beautiful green eyes.

Elizabeth licked her lips and leant in just slightly closer to her lawyer that she had nonetheless become rather fond of. "I ah, I know you worked hard for me over the last few weeks Nigel, no matter what the outcome, and I just want to know one little thing."

"S...sure, any, ah, anything, Mrs. Oldin," he stuttered in front of this suddenly sexy and seductive woman. He felt as though he were all of a sudden a little schoolboy once again and asking his crush to go to the dance with him.

"Is the guard watching?" Elizabeth asked in the slightest of hushed whispers with an innocent flick of her eyes towards the watch post.

Nigel turned his head slightly and looked for the guard who was standing watch over the cells. "N...no."

"Good," reaching through the bars Elizabeth touched her small soft hand to her newest of friends' clothed chest.

"Mrs. Oldin," Nigel whispered as a shiver instantly ran down his spine at her soft touch. "This is very inappropriate." Amazingly enough he didn't stutter a single word this time.

"Oh no, it's not Nigel," Elizabeth snaked her hand down his chest then wrenched her hand forward as quickly as possible and grabbed a tight hold of his wrist. "What's the time? I really need some more sleep."

"It, ah," Nigel stepped back a few paces from the bars and out of Elizabeth's grip, embarrassed with flaming red cheeks. "It's just past ten."

"Oh Nigel," the dark angel spoke in a soft voice so quiet he almost couldn't hear her. "You didn't think I actually liked you that way did you darling?" Elizabeth shook her head with a smile almost of pity and then her voice turned icy-cold again and the smile faded away as though it was never there. "Fuck off and I never want to see you or hear the name Nigel Summons again," after she spat those venomous words at him she walked over to her bed and laid down with her back to the bars once more.

"Elizabeth please-"

"Get the fuck out of here would you Nigel," Elizabeth's voice was once again wounded and helpless, she was a broken spirit that just wanted to be left in her dark pit of rot. "Just go. I'm nothing but one of those no-hope cases Nigel. If you were any good at what you do you'd see that as clear as the daylight outside. Go and find someone who isn't going to spend the rest of their life rotting in a jail cell."

Nigel stood on the other side of the bars and looked at her sadly. "I'm not going to give up on you Liz, not for a second. You wait and see, I will get you out of there before you know it. I'll write to you soon."

Elizabeth rolled over onto her back and looked through the bars to where Nigel stood but he was already gone, nothing was there where he was standing only moments ago but his strong scent of cologne hanging thickly in the air behind him. "It's Mrs. Oldin to you," she whispered only half-heartedly and only to herself.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" It was the large and ugly morning guard harassing her yet again much to no one's surprise. "Time for a shower killer, come on you know the routine, hands through the bars."

With a grunt of exhaustion Elizabeth dragged herself from her small bed and put her now even skinnier hands through the bars.

The guard handcuffed her wrists tightly on the outside of the bars before unlocking the door and 'accidentally' slamming her head into the thick metal bars as he took her by the shoulder.

"Come on missy," with an almighty wrench of his large muscular arm, he violently dragged Elizabeth out of the small cell and pulled her step by stumbling step down to the end of the hall towards the poor excuse they had for bathrooms.

"Get off me." Elizabeth shoved her shoulder forward as hard as she could, trying to free herself of the man's tight grip.

"Listen here now missy, I know exactly what you did to our other two officers that were escorting you to court that day, yeah you know exactly what I'm talking about. Bradley was a good friend of mine and he got fired because of you and your little stunt that day. Don't even think you can pull that shit with me sweetheart." After unlocking her cuffs the officer pushed Elizabeth's small body brutally towards a shower cubicle.

Elizabeth slipped a little on the wet tiles and grabbed a hold of a cubicle wall just before she would have fallen over onto the floor. "Just stand over there and watch could you?" she asked with a glare and nodding her head at the farthest chair in the room.

The officer took his seat in one of the closer chairs and folded him arms, a smug look on his face.

Much more comfortably than the first time she was forced to do it within the walls of this prison, Elizabeth undressed from the prison garb she wore and stripped down to nothing. She looked uneasily over at the officer who was giving her an ugly tooth-baring grin much like the way Bradley used to. "Pervert," she whispered to herself, glaring at him.

"I heard that killer."

"Well at least read a magazine or newspaper or something and give me a little privacy will you?" Elizabeth stepped into a cubicle and remembered what Nigel had said to her about the media calling her the 'dark angel.' "Why don't you tell me what they're saying about me in today's paper."

"Hey, I let you fall back asleep when you should have been up, don't push it with me missy. Alcatraz won't be this nice I can promise you that, especially with that attitude of yours."

"I'll take your word for it," she stepped carefully around in the wet floored cubicle and turned what was left of the hot water on. Fortunately the cubicle shielded her from the chest down to her thighs from the guards gaze.

The officer watched intently with a growing grin on his ugly face as Elizabeth washed herself in the hot water, no longer caring about how much of her was covered up and how much he could see. The feel of the hot water rushing over her body was calming.

Elizabeth scoffed with a shake of her head at the look on the guards face and turned around with a quick and disgusted look down at her once again fuzzy legs.

"Can I have a razor?" she asked almost impatiently, not wanting to see her legs again unless they were smooth.

"What's the magic word?" the guard asked in a singsong voice with his yellow toothy grin spread across his face again.

Exhaling a grand sigh of exasperation Elizabeth rolled her pretty green eyes so far and hard into the back of her head she thought they would never return. Getting a razor was never an easy task around the prison she had so far spent five weeks in and she knew full well that it would be an even harder task once in Alcatraz. "Okay please can I have a razor?"

"Only 'cause it's your last day." The seat creaked as the large officer stood up from it and brought her over a small safety razor.

"Only 'cause you enjoy watching me shave," Elizabeth commented to his back as he walked away back to his seat and again she whispered under her breath with a glare of her eyes, "pervert."

Sitting in a small holder on the side of the shower cubicle was a small bar of grainy brown coloured soap that smelled like it would have been made at least a thousand years ago. A mini plastic bottle of third grade shampoo and conditioner premix that was about the same colour as the soap sat beside it and seemed to be from about the same era if not even just a bit older.

Elizabeth had learned rather quickly not to ask for some privacy from these male officers too many times while having a shower, but seeing as today was no doubt her last day in this lock-up, she thought there was no harm in pushing just a little more.

"Can I have some privacy?"

"No," was the grunt she received in response. The guard sat patiently in his chair with his arms once again crossed tightly over his chest as he enjoyed the morning show.

"Okay, well then will you please give me some privacy?"

"What is it with you women and having your privacy?"

Again rolling her bright green eyes in growing frustration Elizabeth rubbed her temples with her fingertips, searching her brain for a good excuse to make him leave the room. "Because we women have these things called issues and when we are in the shower we like to talk about them, and if someone is close enough to listen, they usually catch all the crap."

"Okay" he said nodding his head and standing up off his chair once again. "You can have ten minutes to yourself and nothing more, but I'll be watching the camera closely missy."

"Fine, don't trust the convicted murderer," Elizabeth muttered quietly to herself as the burly guard walked out of the shower room and closed the door behind him. "Don't worry though," she said to herself with a nod of her head and a bleak attempt at a smile to bring about some optimism in her increasingly darkening life. "It's not like I'm going to be around all that much longer. Oh the poor bastards around here won't have anything to ogle at anymore."

Elizabeth bent down in the cramped little cubicle and pressed the razor blade down onto her leg to begin shaving when a dam of tears suddenly decided it was time to overflow and began rolling down her wet cheeks. She continually tried to brush them away with her shoulder and the back of her hand or wash them away with the hot water drizzling out of the shower head above her but wave after wave they just kept coming.

"Why me?" she whimpered quietly to herself as she continued grooming her legs with little sight through her blurry eyes. "Anywhere but Alcatraz, seriously, anywhere, just not Alcatraz."

Elizabeth's fingers loosened and she dropped the razor in a moment of overwhelming defeat and leant her shaking body helplessly against the cold wall of the shower cubicle. Her head fell into her hands and she broke down crying in great heaves and sighs, her breaths clutching almost violently at her lungs, but deep down Elizabeth knew the answer to why the good lord had condemned her to that prison.

* * * * *

"You done yet?" It was no more than fifteen minutes later and the gruff and unattractive morning officer had just got off the phone from an urgent call, his face red and flustered. Apparently the helicopter had already arrived for transportation and was awaiting her arrival on the roof.

"Yeah, yeah," Elizabeth snapped back at the man, irritation evident in her voice. Elizabeth toweled off with the thin white scrap of a rag they had given her and quickly dressed herself in the fresh orange prison garb that had been waiting for her on the table and looked towards the officer.

"Up against the wall, missy, you know the drill." In his chunky hands he held the various sets of chains and shackles needed for transportation.

"Not too tight," Elizabeth pleaded as she turned around to face the wall, she held her hands together against the wall high above her head leaning forward onto them. All inmates were ordered into this position when being chained in the bathroom because there were no bars to be placed behind. The position was meant to use most of the criminals muscles when they were standing against the wall and gave the guards an upper hand if they were to move to harass the officer. It also threw their balance off center while standing in the position so it took more than a good push off the wall for a criminal to attack a guard.

"Don't push it killer," he growled through the ugly yellow teeth. With the shackles he was holding in his left hand he first chained her small feet together. "If the boss finds out I let you shower by yourself for even a second he'll sack me for sure, let alone ten minutes." The guard stood up and snaked the thick metal chain around her waist. "You just be glad little missy that I let you do that much. Slowly bring your hands down and hold them behind your back then turn around," the guard ordered.

Elizabeth slowly dropped her hands down to behind her back as ordered and turned to face him, her gaunt face now showing no hint of emotion whatsoever.

"Good girl, now slowly! Hands around the front and on the belt." He looped the chain of the handcuffs through the waist chain and now tightened the cold metal manacles around her still red and chaffed wrists. The large morning guard had been doing this good cop/bad cop routine for the whole of Elizabeth's five week stay and she was now rather confused about whether he was playing the good cop or the bad cop today. Either way, she still did as he ordered without fuss just in case the bad cop suddenly popped out with a vengeance and she would have to suffer yet another severe bruise for days on end.

"Come on then killer." He clenched his large fingers around her upper arm and with a great yank of his own arm he started dragging Elizabeth out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

There were only six other prisoners staying in barred cells much like Elizabeth's down the hallway they walked along, all men of different ages and most Caucasian. As she quietly and obediently went with the guard who still had a tight hold of her arm, Elizabeth felt like she was being escorted to her death.

"On'ya killer!" one of them yelled in a thick southern accent.

"Have fun on the rock," said another who leant his arms on the bars of his cell and watched intently as Elizabeth was dragged past under the firm clutches of the morning guard.

"Be seeing you boys soon, no doubt," she retaliated in a blunt voice displaying no emotion at all.

This comment was greeted with all six of the men immediately running to the bars of their individual cells and yelling jeers at the dark angel as she was dragged past them.

Elizabeth smiled at the whoops and bangs on the bars and attempted to accept her fate, a life sentence in a maximum-security prison, beginning with 5 years on Alcatraz Island. A prison not only governed by men but also filled with men, for a terrible crime she did not commit. It was going to be a very long 25 years.

'Death would have been nicer,'  Elizabeth thought to herself.