Monster

I kicked Danny under his groin and the crowd suddenly surged forward, shouting, "Injustice!"

I was in no position to pay attention. As soon as Danny leaned forward, I blocked him with both hands and struck him on the head with a single blow. He collapsed to the ground just as I had before. The crowd grew even louder. I climbed on top of Danny and sat down.

"This is injustice! We have to wait until he gets up!" someone shouted.

I ignored them and kept punching him wherever I could. He writhed in pain. The cruelty that had been in his eyes before was now gone. This time, I forced him onto his back and landed four punches to his face. He was completely unconscious.

I knew that if I hesitated, I would lose my dominance over him. Taking advantage of the moment, I moved to his lower body and delivered four brutal kicks to his thighs. Then, biting down hard, I tore into his flesh and spit it out. The entire crowd recoiled in shock at the pain I inflicted.

It felt as if the whole marketplace had gathered to witness the fight. The man taking bets stared at me in disbelief. But I didn't notice anything—I just kept tearing into Danny's body.

If I gave him another chance, he would have killed me. So before that could happen, the announcer tried to intervene. "Ladies and gentlemen, this boy is the winner of today's bet! I'm awarding him all the money!"

No one paid attention to his words. Some people left, while others cut the ropes around the ring and rushed toward me, forming a circle, watching in stunned silence as I continued my relentless assault. I kept pounding on Danny, unaware of when he lost consciousness.

Rules and regulations are dictated by those willing to do whatever it takes to win. Many people don't realize that you can break the rules and still come out victorious, until someone proves it. The people surrounding me now, watching as I destroyed Danny, were proof of that.

Danny had won every fight by his own rules. I beat him by breaking them. Whether it was fair or not didn't matter to me. What mattered was whether the crowd accepted my victory. Following the rules is important, but so is breaking them at the right time. Only those who dare to challenge the system can become leaders.

******

"Judge Nathaniel Sharpe has come to see you, Martin."

The voice of the prison guard snapped me out of my thoughts, dragging me back from the past to the present.

I had no idea why a judge would want to speak to a man set to be executed tomorrow. I had no interest in wasting my final hours talking to anyone, especially someone who might try to sympathize with me.

"I don't need to meet anyone. I hate people who pity me. Tell him to leave," I replied without looking up.

"No, sir, no one ignores the judge. He also said this is important, given the international discussions surrounding your case. You must meet him," the guard said impatiently.

"Then why are you telling me? He can come talk to me himself."

The guard sighed in frustration. "I don't know. I just do my job. If you have questions, ask him." Then he left.

The prison where I am currently incarcerated is massive. Housing over two thousand inmates, it was spread across four floors. Towering iron bars surrounded the entire complex, each at least a foot thick.

Inside were hardened criminals—those who had committed international crimes, white-collar fraudsters, political assassins, and even scientists who had used their knowledge to unleash destruction. Among them were political leaders who had fallen from grace. I had overheard some of their conversations from my cell, but I never paid much attention.

It had been over four months since I arrived here, awaiting my execution. Oddly enough, I found this prison better than the places I had spent my childhood.

Each floor had twenty-five cells. Inmates cooked their own food and handled other essential chores. The entire structure was electrified to prevent escapes. A guesthouse for officers stood about a hundred meters from the main prison, and guards patrolled the facility every hour. Five officers remained stationed at the entrance at all times.

I never considered escaping. I had surrendered myself.

As my thoughts wandered, I saw Kieran Phoenix approaching with an older man. Even from a distance, I recognized him. No, I wasn't mistaken.

The moment they reached my cell, Kieran flung something at me—a hard object that struck my arm, leaving a small cut. Blood trickled down. Now, I could see the old man clearly. It was Judge Nathaniel Sharpe, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the man who had sentenced me.

"Look at you, you misguided fool," Kieran sneered. "Those four men are going down with you. Your execution is set, and frankly, hanging is too small a punishment for what you've done. You deserve to be erased from history, forgotten by the world."

Among all the people who had visited me after my arrest, Kieran Phoenix stood out. The Director of CIA, he had immense influence and had climbed the ranks at an unusually young age.

Judge Sharpe tried to calm him down. After a while, Kieran stepped back, his rage still visible.

I still didn't understand why they had come. I was growing impatient. The more time passed, the more restless I became. I had no intention of waiting long to die.

Judge Sharpe stepped forward. "Look, Martin! You should know that you've been sentenced to a public execution, and I authorized it. I saw you in court many times. You never once showed emotion. Not even when the case turned against you." He paused. "What's worse you never revealed anything about the missing four billions of dollars. Have you thought about what will happen to it after you die? I don't understand your motives."

His words irritated me. "I don't believe you came all this way just to ask me that. So say what you really want. If you take too long, your sentence will be carried out before you get what you need from me." My voice was calm, but firm.

Kieran glared at me as if I were a ticking bomb about to explode.

Judge Sharpe's expression darkened as he took a step closer to the bars. "I'm not here to lecture you. I know that, in your eyes, we're all insignificant. But because of you, four more people are going to die. The Supreme Court has ruled that all four will be hanged alongside you for their involvement in the Abby's case. Martin, these men whether guilty or not are paying the price for standing beside you. The world sees you as a monster, but I've watched you in that courtroom for months. Not once did you flinch, not once did you show regret. But tell me… do you truly feel nothing? Not even for them?"

I held his gaze, my silence stretching between us like a taut wire. The judge searched my face, waiting for something anything. A confession, maybe. A flicker of humanity. But I gave him nothing.

Then, I spoke. "You're wrong about one thing, Judge."

He froze.

I leaned forward, gripping the cold steel bars. "I do feel something."

His eyes narrowed. "And what is that?"

A slow, knowing smile crept across my lips. "That it's not over yet."