MEET AN UNEXPECTED PERSON IN PRISON

I sat on the floor for what felt like an eternity, shivering in pain, I drifted in and out of consciousness, seeing strange, disturbing visions in my sleep. I felt a pull on my soul, the anger from the pull so hot, it was burning me up.

A voice echoed in my mind: "I will destroy them all. They should have known better than to mess with my human."

"Hey, who are you? Calm down, you are burning me up!" I exclaimed, addressing the strong, dark energy that had surrounded me. Its heat burned deep into my skin, making me feel like I was being consumed by an inner fire.

"Here he is," I heard a voice say, and suddenly, the burning heat disappeared, and my vision cleared.

I looked up to see a familiar face hovering over me, it was the officer who had lent me his phone a month ago. His expression was a mix of concern and curiosity.

More officers rushed in, and a flurry of questions filled the air.

"Thank heavens he is still here! He didn't run away."

"What's he doing here?"

"Who beat him up?"

"Why is there a pole stuck in his knee?"

The chorus of voices grew louder, each different voice had a different question.

"Are there cameras around here? I want to know what exactly happened," a booming voice commanded, cutting through the chaos.

"Also carry this young man carefully and take him to the doctor, now!" the voice ordered, its authority unmistakable.

"I need to see the surveillance footage immediately. He is my prisoner, and he needs justice."

"The cameras are off," another commanding voice replied.

"Good day, Mr. Toven," the officer from before said, his tone firm. "Why are the courthouse cameras not working?"

"We have had a glitch," Mr. Toven responded.

"A glitch?" the officer repeated. "Really? My prisoner was kidnapped and almost killed in the courthouse toilets. I demand an explanation."

Mr. Toven let out a mocking laugh. "The always self-righteous, kind Officer Chris," he sneered. "Sadly, today is not the right time to show your heroism. There will be no surveillance footage, and there will be no hospital."

"What?" Officer Chris asked in surprise.

"Here is the order," Mr. Toven said, seemingly enjoying this. "Damen Clarke is a very dangerous prisoner, and there is a high risk of escape if he is taken to a private hospital. He will receive treatment in prison."

"But the prison hospital might not be equipped to handle an injury this severe," Officer Chris protested. "He might lose his leg."

"Don't you understand, Chris?" Mr Toven continued, his voice laced with urgency. "That's exactly what whoever gave this order is hoping for."

I heard a string of curses, then I felt myself being lifted off the ground, my injured body protesting the sudden movement.

"All the best with that one, Chris," Mr. Toven said. "When he wakes up, ask him who he offended, so I can make sure to keep my distance."

I was carried further, my mind was foggy but we were clearly in a vehicle, I drifted in and out of consciousness. Finally, we came to a stop, and I assumed we had arrived at our destination.

"Chris," a lady's voice called out. I imagined Officer Chris walking over to her, "Take him to Mr. Delgado's cell. He will be his roommate." He ordered.

"Really, boy!" One of the men carrying me whispered. "I wonder what this fellow did to deserve being roomed with Delgado."

"He is a brilliant herbal doctor." One of the men carrying me whispered. "But he never lets anyone in his cell. His last roommate slept in the bathroom for weeks until Officer Chris found out and got the poor guy transferred to another room."

"Hey, at least he will have one roommate," one of the men grumbled. "I am tired of my five roommates."

"Which roommate?" another one chuckled. "Didn't you hear us? That old man won't let him in."

They stopped in front of a door, knocked twice, and then unceremoniously dumped me onto the cold, hard floor.

"Delgado, your new roommate is here," one of them called out, before turning and walking away, leaving me lying there in pain.

The door creaked open, and I heard a sharp gasp and curses. Then, I was gently dragged inside. A cold, damp cloth was placed on my skin, then I was dumped into a tub of ice-cold water. The shock of the cold liquid enveloping me providing relief from the heat.

As I lay there, covered in the icy water, I finally felt my soul gradually return to my body. Before, I had felt like I was floating, watching, hearing and seeing everything but powerless to move even a finger.

Slowly I opened my eyes to find myself in a room that was so bright. A man who appeared to be younger than me was busily tidying up a corner of the room. It looked like he was preparing a bed. Meanwhile I sat in a large tub filled with ice, positioned in the center of the room.

In another corner, an elderly man sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in meditation. There was something oddly familiar about him, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

And his hair at first appeared grey, but on closer inspection, I realized it was actually white. "White hair! that's it" I froze, my eyes fixed on the elderly man's white hair once again.

"WHITE HAIR!" I shouted, my voice hoarse with emotion.

They both rushed to my side, their faces filled with concern. The elderly man began to examine me. After a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief, but I was more interested in his hair. With a trembling hand I traced the length of his white locks, he immediately stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Leave us, Manson," the elderly man ordered. "Okay, sir," the young man replied, before backing away and closing the door behind him.

I coughed, my throat still sore. "White hair," I whispered again, my eyes still fixed on his hair.

He chuckled. "You want water?"

"No." I replied, but instead he smiled and handed me a jar. The water was warm, I drank it in one greedy gulp.

"Another one," he asked and I nodded.

He handed me another jar, and another, and another. In a few minutes, I had downed around seven jugs.

"I knew you would be thirsty, but not this thirsty," the elderly man said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my glare intensifying.

The elderly man chuckled. "Young man, you accepted water from a stranger, and now you ask?"

I glared at him, I wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"My name is Arthur Delgado Black," he replied.

"Delgado," I repeated, my mind racing. "I have heard of that name before and why do you look so familiar, yet so strange?"

He laughed and waved a hand over his face. Immediately a veil of wrinkles and age spots seemed to lift, revealing the face of a handsome middle-aged man.

"Uncle Thor!" I exclaimed, my voice shaking with surprise. "What are you doing here? Everyone has been searching for you! And was that magic you just performed?" I was either going crazy or it was the fever.