Cassian Reed sat in his cell, the dim fluorescent light buzzing overhead, casting shadows on the cracked concrete walls. The TV blared in the corner, but he wasn't paying attention to it. At 30 years old, life in prison had become just a waiting game. Waiting for time to pass, waiting for his sentence to end.
His mind wandered back to the events that had gotten him here. His father's fists, the rage that had been building for years, the moment when it all boiled over. Killing his father had been the breaking point. It had felt good at the time, liberating, even. But the world didn't care about that. They saw only a teenager who had murdered his father. He was sentenced to 20 years for manslaughter.
Four years in juvenile detention, then they transferred him to an adult prison when he turned 18.
Cassian had learned quickly that survival in prison wasn't just about fighting, it was about knowing who to fight, when to fight, and most importantly, when to stay the hell out of someone's way.
At 30, after 12 years behind bars, he had perfected the art of navigating the brutal, chaotic system.
The TV flickered again, but this time, Cassian wasn't really seeing it. His chest tightened, a sharp pain running down his left arm. He winced but shrugged it off, he had taken worse pain in prison. He wasn't some soft, weak inmate to collapse over a little chest pain. But then the tightness in his chest got worse, and the pressure felt like someone was sitting on him.
He gasped, clutching his chest. His vision blurred as sweat broke out across his forehead. The TV was still on, the same stupid show playing in the background, but Cassian couldn't focus on it anymore. His breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale feeling like he was sucking air through a narrow straw.
He tried to stand, tried to make it to the door, but his legs felt like they were made of lead. He stumbled forward, his hands gripping the side of the chair for balance. His vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges. The pain in his chest was unbearable now, crushing, suffocating.
He collapsed back into the chair, gasping for air, his heart hammering in his chest.
The darkness took him, and with it, his life.