It'd been a week since I had been dropped into the prison and this type of treatment had become a reoccurring theme after the first day.
At first, this one guy with gray hair purposely bumped into me with great force and knocked my body down easily
Then I randomly saw him hanging out with a group of other guys and low and behold now those same guys are also giving me a hard time, one after another, everytime there was lunch or free time they'd so happen to be near me and pick a fight.
They would always come up with the dumbest reason to hit me or push me onto the ground, no one came to help me...not like they had a reason to intervene in foreign affairs afterall.
The bullying didn't stop for the entirety of the next week until...
"Today we'll be letting you all off easy, Warden's orders, you'll be responsible for cooking a special dish that'll be eaten by yourself, for yourself."
The guard in the middle of the five guards infront of us said.
The number of prisons was around 70 and we were all being led by a group of guards numbering 112 that monitored our every movement and completely surrounded us as we moved through the courtyard of the Prison into the massive dining area and past that the massive cooking space.
As we moved my mind could only think of when I was going to be suddenly approached by one of those annoying douchebags again.
The guards set us up in different stations each with the necessary tools like stoves, pots, pans and microwaves, etc. All the cooking ingredients were in the cabinets next to our stations and with everything set and ready the guards let us cook whatever foods.
I didn't know how to cook anything except for simple things like bacon, eggs, grits, and pancakes, if it had any of those ingredients I could could it but anything I was useless if you wanted to cook it so I decided I'd stick with what I'm good at and make some bacon eggs and pancakes, nothing special.
Grabbing all the things I needed I take in the aroma of someone else's delicious meal before starting to cook my own.
Knocking my shoulder whilst I was in the middle of cooking the same gray haired punk with only a little more muscle than me starts to pick a fight.
"What's up with you, cooking. Let me add something to make it taste better."
After uttering his words he spits in the pan and nudges my shoulder whilst saying:
" I beat it'll taste even better already, it's cooked enough, right? Go on take a bite."
His tauntingly aggravating voice hits my right ear.
Moving my hand I turn on the electric stove to my right to the max heat, waiting a few I slowly lean down as if I'm going to take a bite of the food before lifting my hand and shoving his face flat onto the burning hot stove.
Screaming at the top of his lungs his hands flail around before grabbing my own hand and pushing on it upwards so he can move his head, but to no avail causing his pain and screams to be prolonged until I realize the glares of almost all the prisoners are directed at me.
Keeping his head there for a solid 20 seconds his face was not in quite the good shape after it was intact and mostly fine but still showed signs of burns severe and extreme burns and red marks all over his face.
Guards came over and picked up his unconscious body on a stroller without saying a word.
Turning without came to the few glares that still lingered on me, I threw my ruined meal away and began anew with an improved and better version.
***
Locked back up in my cell a familiar friend greeted me.
"I heard you beat the crap out of some guy and burnt his face." familiar friend
"He and his goons kept on messing with me throughout the whole week, plus I already had plenty of pent up anger because of the Humanitarian Democracy so I decided to use it on him ."
I sat down in my bed.
"They'll only come back and beat you up more you know."
"Gotta kill a weed at its roots or it'll come back." friend said
"Are you suggesting I kill him? If I did then there'd actually be a reason for me to be here, plus I wouldn't kill anyone over something like that... I don't even think I have the guts to kill."
'Honestly I don't. Why would I, even though I'm a prisoner here doesn't mean I did something worthy of being here.'
Over the week I had put all my stats into speed in anticipation of the prison break coming up.
"Well. If this escape plan doesn't work out then you're going to have to get the guts to do it ,and fast." friend said.
" I don't quite remember why I'm in here nor why I don't I don't really have a problem with killing but whatever past you have might have to be thrown away once you met the true harsh reality of the prison." familiar voice.
"Can't even remember my parents..." The familiar voice spoke so low I couldn't hear.
"I'm not going to let this prison that I should never have been in in the first place change who I am, decide what I'll be." Senithan Indignantly responded.
"Stubborn as always, eh. Don't worry there have been many who have thought like you and they all failed, died, or were slowly changed by the prison. You might be different though, only if you can escape."
"I'll escape. And destroy Humanitarian Democracy." Senithan
"Yea, yea. I get your hate for the Humanitarian Democracy. You've said it so many times it's becoming boring to hear." familiar voice
"Ok."
Laying under the cover of my covers I slowly shut my eyes and go into a deep sleep, but not before hearing.
"Good night."
From a familiar voice.