Now hearing my words, this jerk seemed as if he was more shocked to hear the news of dual than hearing about me killing him, so there was strange comfort in this new mess, and I also hastily left him.
But to my wonder, a strange burden started covering my heart, and to my surprise, there was nothing strange around me, so feeling quite puzzled, I chose to move out of this cell, but when I was about to leave.
I saw something strange, a packet of cigarettes, tugged under the mattress in a pretty rugged way. Looking at it, I was feeling a deep urge to take a puff, a final puff before leaving this world behind, so I hesitantly moved towards it and hastily pulled it out.
Despite being tucked under the mattress, the cigarettes seemed fine, and to my funny fate, there was only one cigarette left in the entire box, and remembering how I used to smoke, surely it wasn't feeling much.
So I, without even worrying for a single moment, pulled out the cigarette and burned it with a flicker, but damn, the first puff went in, my head started spinning, and my feet started feeling heavy.
Fuck, this was really something else, like all the things I had tasted in my life. This stuff was really sending chills to my spine, but while taking the puffs, strange memories started popping up, and this fucked brain was not trying to hear me even in the slightest.
And well, I was again returned to my inside, the same fucked memories, the same shit that brought me to where I was, those unending taunts of parents while I was unable to fetch that job, or that sickness that corroded me since childhood of not being enough, but well, all these memories and the sickening feeling of just never being enough were surely pretty heavy.
The shoulder that could carry countless realms without breaking was now shivering with just mere thought, the sickening drugs, those pathetic syringes, damn that sick panic attack, why did that even have to happen?
Like despite coming this far, why wasn't I ever enough? What was even the meaning of this helplessness? It was as if the scars from childhood were never able to heal, those words that people used to blabber about how every scar could heal.
It was nothing but a lie; there was no healing for my wounds. All I was doing was just pretend as if it wasn't hurting, but still even now, my habits and addiction towards that escape from my fear still hadn't left me.
The moment I saw the cigarettes, the first thought that covered my heart was only that fear, that strange discomfort in my heart, that made me incline to these drinks, smokes, and drugs. Even after becoming this powerful, why was I still so helpless towards that sensation?
Was it that I was just so addicted to my pain that, despite having such wonders, I still couldn't find that comfort anywhere? That I always used to get in my misery, it feels so brutal to see some unfortunate child.
Just what in the world was even happening with me? I really couldn't understand. The fucked sensations from the past were still clutching my heart, and here I was still trying to make sense of everything.
Well, but there was still no escape from my such nightmares; all I could do was keep moving forward and see where it could take me, so with a deep breath, I tried focusing on my senses and managed to find something else other than such sour memories.
An image of the past: unlike my average days, there was also a time when I saw hope in my life, and that was because of someone I met, that carefree nature, and that intoxicating feeling of being around her.
Well, if not for that tragedy, maybe I could have had a much better past than I had; instead of becoming a random fuck like now, I could have become something that could have given me hope for the next day.
Still those hair and that smile of hers in that image were pretty relieving, but before I could even hold that image for any longer moment, the memories started fading, and I was returned to the same cell.
The same stinking stench and fucked mess, standing alone in the entire cell, while the commotion from outside seemed settled now, and I also wasn't even sure about how many moments it had been.
When I was unconsciously drunk in my memories, I felt a deep ache of not even being able to hold her image, which surely was pretty nerve-wracking, but I knew that if I chose to sink in those memories again, then there was no way that I would ever want to return back.
And who knew how I could end up if I kept bound by that hope? So instead of keeping my thoughts on her, I chose to take another puff, but this fucked stuff, to my wonder, was burnt entirely and even burnt my fingers also.
Such a strange scene made me glance back outside, and without much thought, dusting my hands, and with a forced smile, I came outside, and to my wonder, it was nearly evening, and the entire prison seemed empty.
So feeling that it was because of that fight, I also hastily tried to rush to the ground, where I told that guy to set that ring, and not to my disbelief, the entire prison was gathered around the ring, like all prisoners, guards, and even that post guy were also here.
While the yoko was also seeming quite prideful while looking at the ring, where these fucks were gathered, and it seemed that it had already started, so I hastily rushed towards the crowd, and the moment I was about to enter the crowd, someone from Rush shouted, 'DE---DE---DEMON HAS RETURNED!!!'
Fuck, due to this shout, the entire tension shifted on me, and I was again forced to act in my composed and cold way, but seriously, feeling so many gazes was nothing but way too unnerving, and this brat was also taunting me in a way too hideous tone.
While the yoko was also looking at me with strange curiosity, and instead of giving anyone any importance, I chose to stand near the ring. While seeing the things settling, everyone also hesitantly started to focus on the fight.