I will return

9

Every night, the same damn dream. Ten years have passed since the Daemon Ritus was torn from my chest, and in my mind, I relive that moment over and over again. In my dream, I feel the artifact separate from my body, ripping away the strength and power it had given me. The pain is indescribable, as if my soul was being ripped out, and at the same time, the souls I had absorbed begin to escape from me, one after another, leaving me empty, weakened, helpless.

I see the Mystery Inc. guys in front of me, holding the Daemon Ritus. They push it further and further away as I run after them, desperate, screaming, begging for it back. "I will be with him again," I shout at the top of my voice, "I will be what I was again." But they don't stop, and the distance between us grows until everything fades into darkness.

I wake up, gasping, and the first thing I feel is that burning in my chest, like an internal burn that never goes away. I get up, with the feeling that something inside me is still connected to that damn device. Hatred and anger consume me, but they also give me strength to move forward.

I go out to the dining room, where the prison routine continues, but today something on the television catches my attention. It is a documentary about the Daemon Ritus. There it is, showing it as an object of study, a mystery that scientists have not been able to unravel. They talk about how they plan to exhibit it in museums, and mention that it is in London now, but that in five years they will bring it to the city where I am locked up. Five years... that's how long I have to plan my escape. I'll do it alone, I don't need anyone.

But Joe, that damn guard, won't leave me alone. While watching TV, I feel him approaching. His presence is like a constant shadow that reminds me of what I did. "You little bastard!" he shouts, grabbing me by the neck and lifting me off the ground. His eyes are filled with hate, the same hate he has felt for me all these years. "Do you know what it feels like to be trapped in the body of a monster like you? Do you know what it's like to have no control, to not be able to breathe? You destroyed my life!"

He throws me against the wall, pain shooting through my body, but I don't make a sound. I'm used to this. Joe continues to hit me, his fists coming down on me with relentless rage. "You deserve it," he growls, kicking me in the stomach, "you deserve every second of this miserable life."

As he hits me, something in me hardens. With every blow, with every insult, my determination grows. I look him in the eyes, with a crooked smile on my face, and say, "I'm going to escape, Joe. And you know what? You're going to help me."

His eyes widen in surprise and confusion, but my smile remains. He doesn't know it yet, but he's become part of my plan. Every hit he lands on me, every word he spits with hatred, only brings me closer to my goal. Joe will be the instrument of my liberation, whether he wants it or not.