𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝐾𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠

𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒘 (𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒗)

13 years ago, after the case.

I was a powder keg, just waiting to ignite. The moment my girlfriend told me she was pregnant, it was as if something inside me snapped. A dark force, long hidden in the shadows, took control, silencing my emotions and unleashing a torrent of rage. I was consumed by a burning fury that turned my heart to stone. I could feel my eyes blazing with an unholy fire, transforming me into a monster I'd rather not be.

"John"... My brothers voice was faded but I could hear it, His voice laced with a desperation he couldn't hide. I was talking to my brother from the other side of the phone, trying to keep my emotions in check.

I was trapped, locked away in this hell forsaken place, a reality I never thought would come to pass and yet this was my own doing. Now, I was reduced to this: a flimsy phone, the walls closing in around me like a vice, talking to my brother through a damn glass.

"Yeah, sorry... I spaced out," I muttered, forcing myself to focus on the conversation. Travis's words were a lifeline, a reminder that there was still a world outside these cold, grey walls. He wanted to help me, to get me out of this place, and for a fleeting moment, I felt a glimmer of hope.

"I've got a plan," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Just hang in there, John. I'll get you out of this."

I shook my head, a weight of guilt crashing down on me. I didn't deserve to be free. I had taken a life, a life that was precious and dear. My girlfriend's face haunted my dreams, her eyes accusing me of the unspeakable crime I had committed.

As I hung up the phone, I felt a sense of dread wash over me. I had to go back to my cell, back to the reality of my situation. And when I got there, I was met with a challenge. A towering figure stood over me, his dark skin a stark contrast to the dingy atmosphere of the cell. He emanated an aura of strength, of power, and I sensed that in this place, he was a force to be reckoned with.

"Hey, I'm taking the bottom bunk," he said, his voice dripping with menace.

I looked up at him, my heart racing with anticipation. I had been in situations like this before, situations where I had to prove myself, to show that I wasn't to be messed with. And I had always come out on top.

I slid off the wall, my eyes locked on the stranger's, and met his glare with a cold, calculated stare. I kept my hands behind my back, implementing the same trick I'd learned years ago: the intense stare that hinted at a darkness lurking within.

The stranger recoiled, his eyes flicking away, and a faint flush crept up his cheeks.

"Uh, never mind. I'll Take the top bunk," he stuttered, and for a moment, I was the undisputed king of the cell.

I smiled to myself, a cold, mirthless smile. I had won this small battle, but I knew that there would be many more to come. And I was ready. I was a murderer, a monster, and I would do whatever it took to survive in this place.