Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Mal Meets the Rebel	By : Bloodylilcorpse Category: +S through Z > Total Drama Island Views: 3631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or anything related to or from the 'Total Drama' Franchise. All characters are owned by Tom McGillis and Jennifer Pertsch. I do not profit nor make any money from this.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: I don't own Total Drama or it's characters relating to the show. Nor do I profit or make money from writing this. Enjoy!
Roxanne's Pov:
Just as I left Mal, and that other guy called Duncan with the jet black hair, and a green mohawk, it dawned onto me that the sheet of paper Mrs. Woods gave me is now useless because Chris and Chef changed my living quarters. So now I had to go back, and get a new sheet or just as Mal...fat chance.
I strolled back to the office in little to ten minutes to spare. I told her my problem.
"I see. Give me a moment, and I'll have a new printout ready to go." She said with little to none enthusiasm. As soon as the copier spit out the sheet, she said, "Here. Enjoy your stay."
I nearly laughed out loud, whereas anyone else would probably be pissed or annoyed with that kind of response, but hey, what can I say, I'm the type that's easily amused. With that, I was off to find my cell or room or whatever you want to call it.
Reading the blueprints printout that gave me at the front desk, wasn't too tricky. I took the elevator which according to the sheet was on the third floor. I soon would easily find the cell/room I was supposedly sharing with Mal. It was located on the left hall. Cell/room no. 217. I started to get nervous when I remember Mrs. Woods telling me that only the more dangerous youths were placed on the third floor. Which cause me to stop, and think. I'm sharing a cell with Mal, and he's on the third floor?!
"Is Mal that dangerous?..." I nervously pondered to myself as I read off the cell/room numbers, looking for mine. "If he is, then just how dangerous are we talking here?... I mean do I need to go back, and sneak my pocket knife from the office, do I? Surely, I won't need it, right?" Hopefully not anytime soon.
Either way, I shook off my fears when I had finally arrived at my destination. I hadn't paid much attention up until now what kinda rooms this place provided. My thoughts had distracted me from taking in my surroundings. There was absolutely no privacy. Zip, zero nada. It literally looked like a jail cell like on tv, and in the movies. A barred iron door. Two bunk-beds with only a single pillow and blanket on each set. A few old beat-up looking lockers. A splintered-table and two chairs were the only other furniture in the there. An old rusty sink with a cracked mirror that looked look like it had never been cleaned since the place opened. A very gross-looking toilet that needed cleaning. And badly. How was a person suppose to pee in peace?!...
Out of the corner of my eye, something orange caught my attention. I walked into the cell towards the bunk-bed on the right and picked up the bright-colored fabric to discover that it was an orange prison jumper. It had a sheet of paper pinned to it with my name on it.
It read: Ms. Roxanne E. Davison, you are required to only wear this during your classes, and/or school-related activities. Place it in the hamper when cleaning is needed. The numbers on the left-hand side of the chest are your serial number which is your ID, which is also used during lunch. Be sure to either wear it during lunch or have the serial number memorized. Any questions, comments, and/or complaints come to the office. -Mrs. Gloria M. Woods
Just as I finished reading the note, I heard a squeaky noise coming from behind me. I slowly pivot around to the source of the sound and find Mal all sprawled out on the opposite bunk-bed with his arms folded behind his head to support himself, and his legs crossed. As soon as he saw that he had my attention he leaned over on his side using his arm to prop his head up, and then he just gazed at me with this strange-twisted smirk on his face.
"Well, find everything to your liking, princess?" He said with a smile that touched his sly lips.
"I told you not to call me that," I said with dissatisfaction.
He just looks at me and snorts an unpleasant laugh. I fold my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow at him.
"Cut it out chucklehead," I said trying to be more serious. "What's your deal anyway? You got a problem with me or something?"
He actually had the audacity to laugh even harder while holding onto his sides like it's for dear life. When he was done, he wiped the tears from eyes from his little laugh fest, and says, "For a girl, you have some balls talking to me that way."
Getting up from his bunk, and from the looks of it, starting to take the conversation more seriously, he states, "I don't think you realize just who the hell you're playing with here..."
Stopping just a foot away from me, and using his size to my disadvantage, he leers as he closing in on me. Craning down to my height with just inches away from my face, I frown as he says with sheer mirth, "This little funhouse is mine regardless of what Chris or Chef says, and anyone with a quarter of a brain knows that. But since your "fresh meat," I'll have to show you...your place. See the black sleeve..."
"Yeah, I already know about the sleeves smart-ass.", I reply with little interest.
Mal's left eye twitches, and I can clearly see that his feathers have been ruffled. Before I could say another word or even so much as bat an eyelash, he shoved me against the wall while slamming his other hand into it. I gasped because he startled me.
"Still think you're pretty tough now?... You're sharing a room with a guy." He paused to catch his breath as he continues to rage on. "If I wanted to...Right here and now...I could take advantage of you and no one...I mean no one would stop me. And you wanna know why? Because this floor is mine!"
As I try to calm my heavy breathing, my mind is scrambled, and for once I am without a witty retort, so I duck my head under his arm, and squeeze my way out of his grasp as I put some distance between us. "Touch me, and you die. Remember that."
He cocked his head to the side with a frown, as if he was considering whether or not what I just said was a jest. Before he could say another else, a bell rung, and a parole officer walked by giving Mal a stern look.
"Consider yourself lucky today, Red!" He smirked, as he pulled on his orange jumper over his clothes. He turns and looks at me. "What are you waiting for? He's not gonna leave until we put on the prison rags, and head to class."
I raised an eyebrow for a second and left out a sigh as I also picked up mine, and pulled it on over my clothes as well. "Hurry up. Since I am stuck with you, I have to show you to the damn classes." He grumbled.
Without putting up a fight since the parole officer was there, I silently followed Mal out of our shared cell. The parole officer led the way.
Mal's Pov:
I followed my parole officer to class all the while thinking of how I was gonna get Red under my thumb. She was a lot more spirited than most of the guys here, and girls I've seen outside of juvie. Just who the hell is she?...I guess I'll have to do some digging, but in the meantime, I can let her or anyone else for that matter see how much she's beginning to piss me off...
A class day in juvie should be fun, especially if Mal's gonna be there, huh?...Still wondering what Mal's little secret is? Well, I promise it will be revealed soon enough, just have patience.
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Mal Meets the Rebel