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When the judge left the room, the heavy silence filled the air, as if the air itself was weighed down by his verdict. The sound of the guards' footsteps scattered on the floor while I remained sitting in my place, lying back to the shock.
"Is there no way out of this?"
I wondered to myself, but I already knew the answer; there was no way out of this.
That wasn't really what scared me; what scared me more was the fact that this was just the beginning. It was impossible for Brian to stop here.
I felt strong hands grab me. I looked at the owner of the hands; it was one of the guards assigned to take me away after the trial.
"You have to come with us, sir."
Before I had a chance to speak, he forcefully pulled me from the chair and headed towards the exit.
"Thank you for helping me, Mr. Rick... although things didn't go well, I am truly grateful to you."
I looked at the lawyer, Rick, and thanked him with genuine gratitude.
Once we exited the room, journalists gathered and showered me with questions.
Luckily, the guards pushed them away, and upon seeing this, I sighed in relief. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I could hold myself together after what happened in court.
My expression turned grim as I looked at the car we stopped in front of, a small black truck.
"Judicial transport police."
The letters were written in white on its sides; once I entered the vehicle, the doors slammed shut behind me with a cold, harsh sound. I looked at the small windows, which were barred with iron rods, and the glass was completely opaque, preventing any view from the inside to the outside or vice versa.
'Where are we going now?'
I wondered to myself, but whether I knew the answer or not, it didn't change the reality that I was heading into a nightmare soon.
...........
[Brian POV]
"This is just the beginning, Michael..."
I spoke quietly as I watched Michael getting into the transport vehicle.
"Ring... Ring... Ring."
As soon as I saw the caller's name, a feeling of joy washed over me.
"Did you execute everything I told you?"
I spoke immediately after answering.
"I called you about this matter, young master."
"What is it?"
"Those men you mentioned before, they're demanding double the amount..."
"Just pay them, I don't care how much they want, as long as they do the work I asked them to, I have no problem with it."
I replied immediately without hesitation.
"Understood, young master."
I hung up the phone directly and walked toward the car, closing my eyes as I thought.
'My hatred for Michael was not without reason. I've always felt inferior whenever I was near him. How could Michael, a boy from a middle-class family, outperform me academically? How could he be more handsome than me, more loved than me, and have such a superior aura?'
That's when I started feeling envy, then jealousy; and then that jealousy turned into hatred, so I began bullying other students in hopes of gaining attention and some status in school.
Until the day I decided to directly target Michael, I gathered my gang members and cornered Michael in the school's back yard and tried to beat him up; the result? The result was us getting beaten by that bastard.
The next day, when I arrived at school, the news that we had been beaten by Michael spread all over the school, making us the laughing stock of the other students.
As a result, I tried to target Michael secretly by using his friend Sam, who sat with him on the same step, and ordered him to put itching powder in Michael's gym clothes before he wore them.
But I didn't expect that this shy rat would refuse to do what I told him; so, my gang and I took him to an alley to teach him a lesson, but who would have known that Michael would see us on the way and follow us?
After he broke my nose, I returned home and saw my father; when I told him what happened, he scolded me. But he said he would help me get rid of him.
The reason he was willing to help me was that he couldn't stand seeing someone poor like Michael outperforming his son.
But one of the reasons I hated him more than anything was that the girl I liked, the goddess of my dreams, was talking to him happily and excitedly. Her eyes were always filled with admiration whenever she looked at him.
But when she looked at me, her gaze changed from admiration to disgust, and she treated me coldly and indifferently, unlike Michael at all.
But when he beat me up for the second time and broke my nose, it was the last straw, which led me to ask my father for help. My father, who had great influence in the entire city, helped me.
With his help, I began planning; first, I caught that rat, Sam, and ordered some people to beat him until he was in critical condition and then sent him to the hospital. After he woke up, I went to him and told him that if he didn't do what I told him, I would turn his life into a nightmare.
I even threatened to ask my father to get his parents fired from the factory they worked in, since the factory was under our company. Upon hearing this, his face turned pale, and he agreed to do what I wanted.
'I wonder what his expression will be when he finds out what's waiting for him.'
A small smile formed on my face as I thought.
...........
[Michael POV]
I sat on the cold floor, leaning my back against the hard stone wall. The air in the cell was damp, with the smell of sweat and rust, and I looked at the gray walls that seemed to get narrower around me.
The shackles were still around my wrists, leaving red marks on my skin. I closed my eyes in an attempt to calm my breath, but all I could hear was the echo of the guards' footsteps in the distant hallways.
I reached out to the metal bed, but even trying to lie on it was uncomfortable. No blanket, no pillow, just the solid metal, which only intensified my sense of helplessness.
I looked at the steel bars in front of me. How many people had sat here before, feeling the same helplessness and weakness?
As I was lost in my thoughts, I heard the sound of a guard's footsteps approaching. I raised my head to find him standing in front of my cell.
"You have a visitor here to see you."
He spoke as he took the keys from his pocket. Before he opened the cell, I felt a little strange hearing what he said.
'Visitor? I wonder who has the time to see me.'
I wondered as I stepped outside the cell. It had been two days since I was locked up in this prison.
During the two days I spent here, I noticed that all the prisoners were between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. In general, all the prisoners in this correctional facility were teenagers.
I looked around for a second before following the guard to the visitation area, but as soon as I entered and saw the visitor, my body froze.
I gripped my hands tightly until my joints turned blue. My body trembled as I resisted the urge to run towards him and beat him with all my strength.
"Oh, Michael... we haven't met in a while. How did you find the feeling of living in a cage?!"
The visitor, Brian, spoke sarcastically with a big smile on his face.
I stared at him for a while before saying to the guard standing next to me:
"I don't want to talk to him."
Then I turned towards the exit.
"Tsk, you're really not interesting... anyway, I have a surprise for you. I don't think you'll forget it."
After saying these words, Brian stood up and left the room, leaving me lost in thought with his words.
'There's no point in thinking about this now.'
I shook my head and left with the guard. Once I returned to the cell, the guard left quickly.
I looked at the cell door, which the guard hadn't closed, and I felt a sense of determination. Before I could continue thinking, a group of prisoners entered the cell. They were a group of at least twenty individuals, ranging in age from sixteen to eighteen.
Without further delay, they rushed towards me. I tried to resist, but to no avail. They were older than me and outnumbered me.
"Fwo..."
A gasp escaped my lips after I felt a powerful punch to my chest, while another punch hit my face, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor. I tried to get up quickly, but a few of them pinned me to the ground while others climbed on top of me and began throwing random punches at my face.
I tried to scream in hopes that the guards would come, but no one responded.
After nearly an hour of beating, seeing that my breath was shallow and I was about to lose consciousness, the group stopped hitting me. Then they left the cell. Once they were gone, the guard who had previously escorted me came. He looked at me with a smirk before closing the cell as if nothing had happened here.
'Brian, you bastard... when I get out of here, I swear I'll make you regret it... no, I'll make you wish for death.'
I felt pain all over my body, to the point that I suspected I had some broken ribs. My cheeks were swollen. Blood was dripping from my nose and mouth. One of my eyes was shut and swollen. I couldn't see out of it.
I was left lying on the floor like a torn rag.
'You better have started praying, or I swear when I get out of here...'
With each ragged breath, I felt the anger burning inside me, consuming my fear, fueling my resolve... and when the darkness finally overtook me, it wasn't surrender, but a promise. A promise of revenge.