Goodnight.

Prologue

I woken up with a pain in my neck. don't know how long I've been locked in here. It's winter I can tell from the chill around me, though I've lost track of when I last saw daylight. I was accused of treason and have been sentenced to life imprisonment.

At Lunch. As the cell door clanks open, I leave my cell to get a meal and fill my empty stomach. The low noise of prisoners echo through the corridor, growing louder as they rush to the cafeteria. I quicken my pace to catch up with them, the shuffling of feet and distant clangs of metal creating a rhythmic backdrop. The line starts forming quickly, but I manage to get somewhere in the middle.

Finally, I get my long-awaited meal, A Baked Potato with Mac 'n Cheese. The cafeteria filled with sounds of conversation and the clatter of trays and utensils. As I walk to a corner table to sit alone, I hear someone call out my name "Y/N! Over here!" It's my friend Irine. He's a tall 5'9, fit figure with messy brown hair and a perpetually cheerful expression. His bright green eyes are always sparkling with mischief, and he has a habit of wearing clothes that are slightly too large for him.

"Ah, alright." I reply, walking over and taking a seat beside him. Honestly I feel a bit small sitting beside him as I am 5'7.

"So, how's your day?" Irine asks, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the cafeteria.

"Same old, same old." I reply with a bored tone, While taking a bite of the baked potato.

Irine continues, "I saw this poster on the board. It says they're looking for people to volunteer for missions, with rewards, of course."

I swallow the baked potato and quickly cut him off. "I'd pass." Said with slight interest, though the clatter of dishes and the murmur of other conversations drown out most of the cafeteria's background noise.

"But... It said you'd be awarded money and freedom!" Irine insists.

I don't know why, but the word "freedom" gives me a strange feeling, as if the mission might not be as good as it sounds.

I think for a bit and say, "...Fine..." I look at him. "I'll check it out after this meal."

Time passes as I finish my meal, I left the plate on the table as the sounds of the cafeteria fading. I get up from my seat and head to the board, the soft patter of my footsteps echoing off the walls as I read the poster in my head.

"Volunteering to be an expendable, huh..." As I read further, I feel a light tap on my left shoulder. It's Irine.

"Let's sign up!" he says with excitement in his tone and a childish smile, his voice rising above the ambients of the corridor.

"Let's go then." I said, and walked over to a nearby guard. "Can we sign up for the expendable thingy?" Irine nodded in agreement.

The guard gave a slight nod and led us to a room, the sound of our footsteps mingling with the distant clanking of metal doors. He gestured for us to enter.

Inside, the room resembled a waiting room. The low hum of conversation and occasional shuffling of papers created a steady background noise. Many prisoners were already there, waiting to sign up like us. Most of them were muscular with numerous scars, and I could feel their eyes on me, the silence thickening as they sized us up.

I signed my name on the paper at the counter, the sound of my pen scratching the paper cutting through the low chatter in the room. I sat down next to one of the other prisoners, with Irine sitting beside me. As the guard started calling out names, I tried to tune in to the whispers and movements of the other prisoners.

After a while, the guard called our names simultaneously. Odd.

I walked up to the counter with Irine. The guard gestured for us to sign a contract. The paper rustled as we picked it up. The contract read: "Upon signing this contract, you will be inevitably risking your life for the mission assigned by your supervisor. After completing the tasks given to you, you will be awarded freedom and a sum of $5 million."

I blinked in disbelief as I saw the amount. This was no ordinary sum!

Ignoring the rest of the contract, I quickly signed it. So did Irine.

The guard took the contract and placed it in a folder labeled "Expendables." the sound of the folder snapping shut echoing slightly. He then handed us a key to room number 582, indicating that we would be sharing the room.

"Go wait in the room on my right." the guard pointed to the door on his right.

Following his instructions, Irine and I made our way to the room. The hallway was like a hotel's stairwell, with the faint hum of ventilation and the distant thud of footsteps creating an eerie, almost surreal atmosphere.

I was flabbergasted by the fact that there was literally a hotel beneath this prison as I continued down to find our room.

Finally, I found room 582, unlocked the door with a metallic click, and stepped inside with Irine. The room was surprisingly nice, resembling a mediocre hotel room, at least better than the prison above.

"Such a nice room we have here, ain't it?" I said to Irine while nudging him.

"Pretty much, yeah." he said with a giggle.

On the bed, I found a note that read: "We need you to stay here for 1-2 nights as we prepare the equipment for you."

"Well, if there's good food served when I wake up, then sure," Irine said jokingly.

We settled into the room, the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a steady background noise. As we waited, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The idea of being labeled an "expendable" and the promise of freedom and a large sum of money seemed too good to be true.

Irine seemed more excited than apprehensive. He started exploring the room, checking out the small kitchenette and the bathroom, while I sat on the bed, lost in thought. The gentle rustling of Irine's movements contrasted with the stillness of the room, adding to my sense of unease.

Irine's playful antics helped lighten the mood. He made jokes and pretended to be a grand tour guide, his laughter a welcome distraction from my worries. His attempts to cheer me up were appreciated, even if they did little to ease my anxiety.

As evening approached, a knock at the door interrupted our light-hearted banter. Irine opened it to find a tray of food being delivered. The clatter of the tray on the floor was followed by the guard's brief nod before he left without a word.

The meal was decent, and Irine eagerly dug in, making exaggerated sounds of satisfaction. "See? They've got the basics covered. We might be here for a while, but at least we're not starving."

I tried to enjoy the meal, but my mind kept drifting back to the contract and the mission ahead. I glanced at Irine, who seemed to be in high spirits despite the gravity of our situation. His optimism was infectious, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were walking into something dangerous.

As night fell, Irine took a shower, the sound of water running from the bathroom providing a rhythmic backdrop. He emerged in the same prison clothes as before and flopped down onto the double bed, yawning. "I'll be sleeping first. See you tomorrow..." he mumbled in a sleepy voice before resting his head on the pillow and drifting off into a deep sleep.

I got up to take a shower, the sound of the running water helping to wash away my lingering doubts. Afterward, I dried off and dressed in the clothes from the closet.

Lying down next to Irine, I stared at the ceiling for a while, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound. I glanced over at him. He looked peaceful, deeply asleep.

"Good night, Irine." I whispered, closing my eyes and slipping into a slumber.