[Central District Detention Center - Cell Block 3]
Alex sat in the corner.
Concrete floor. Cold. Damp.
Walls gray. Stained.
Single dim bulb overhead.
Flickering.
The air smelled wrong.
Mold. Rust. Something metallic.
Blood, maybe.
He leaned back.
Head against wall.
Closed his eyes.
This is fine.
Totally fine.
Just a little detention.
Nothing bad will happen.
Then—
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Getting closer.
CLANG.
Metal door opened.
Light flooded in.
Two figures appeared.
Rex walked in first.
Face twisted.
Vicious smile.
Behind him—
Ethan.
Wheelchair rolling.
Bandages still wrapped around his lower half.
Face pale.
But eyes burning.
Hatred.
Pure hatred.
They stopped at the cell bars.
Behind them—
Two guards carried boxes.
Set them down.
Opened lids.
Alex's stomach dropped.
Tools.
Interrogation tools.
Whips.
Batons.
Electroshock devices.
Pliers.
Metal rods.
All lined up.
Gleaming under dim light.
Oh.
Shit.
Alex's mind raced.
