Amy, a young woman struggling with her self-confidence 🌟, is determined to make a change in her life. She possesses the Book of Luck 📚, which can alter the amount of luck, along with her Emerald Cat 🐱, a creature that appears only to those with p...
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Chapter One
In the depths of the prison, Jack sat in his isolated cell, counting the days he had spent between cold walls that seemed to suffocate his breath. The cell was a narrow space, four gray walls, a massive iron door, and a tiny window that barely allowed a faint beam of sunlight to pass through. The sounds of the other prisoners in the distant wings barely reached him, as if he was cut off from the world. Jack was a special type of prisoner, his case shrouded in secrecy and mystery, so much so that even the guards avoided talking about him.
Initially, he had been sentenced to ten years behind bars, but something mysterious happened; he was released after only two years due to insufficient evidence. The day of his release was quiet and strange. There was no one waiting for him. No friends, no family, just a gray sky and wet pavements from the light rain. He took a deep breath as he stepped out of the large prison gates, as if the fresh air was foreign to him after all that time. He looked around for a moment, then walked steadily toward his home.
His home was far from the rest of the city, in a remote area, where no one approached unless they had to. The house was old, decaying, and it seemed like no one had touched it for a long time. The exterior paint was peeling, and the doors creaked when opened. Jack entered inside, into a living room that was in complete chaos. Papers were scattered on the floor, and the furniture was covered with a thick layer of dust. He felt a strange sense of relief seeing this familiar scene. It was as if the disarray mirrored the turmoil within him, a chaotic but comforting reminder of the life he had left behind.
He sat on the old couch, which barely supported his weight, with the darkness of the room surrounding him from all sides. The lights were off, and only one small window allowed the fading daylight to seep in. He took a deep breath and said in a quiet voice, "Prison is like a gray cockroach, feeding on the hopes of prisoners. That vile cockroach always finds a way to survive, unless someone stronger comes along... someone like me." He looked around at the mess, then slowly stood up, as if finally deciding what needed to be done. "I will cleanse this world of the real cockroaches. Those who feed on misery and leave nothing but pain for others."
Jack began moving through the darkness, his steps quiet but steady. He headed toward an old wooden door in the corner of the room, slowly opening it to reveal a stone staircase descending downward. He lit his phone's flashlight and carefully descended, avoiding the spiders weaving their webs in every corner. The basement was a dim, musty room filled with dusty boxes stacked haphazardly, as if they hadn't been opened in years. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and decay, mingling with the faint, acrid scent of old paper and leather.
He navigated through the clutter, his flashlight beam cutting through the shadows. Among the boxes, there was a small, unassuming box hidden in the back. Jack pulled a key from his pocket, its metallic surface catching the light briefly before he inserted it into the lock. He turned the key with extreme caution, as if he were unlocking something sacred. The lock clicked open, and he lifted the lid to reveal its contents.
