Johan was thrown into solitary confinement, almost unconscious, trying with all the strength he had left to hold on to what little consciousness he had left.
The guards entered the cell like a herd of rhinos, holding Johan as if he were an animal, beating him with punches, kicks and bludgeons.
It was a horror show for those watching.
The middle-aged man in the front cell just watched, with that smile on his lips, wondering how Johan would get out of the situation.
However, to the man's disappointment, Johan did nothing.
Johan simply let the guards beat him, as if he were a huge punching bag made of meat.
When Johan fell to the icy metal floor of the solitary confinement, he immediately curled up into a ball, trying to minimize the damage to his already fractured ribs.
"Ah... Ah..."
Johan gasped with difficulty, swallowing every tiny gulp of air as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
'I don't know... How long I'll spend here, but... At least this will... Keep me safe from those guys, and... I'll be able to look after my ribs... In peace...'
With this thought in mind, Johan let his shrunken body relax very slightly, and little by little, allowed his mind to slip into the void of unconsciousness.
***
When Johan opened his eyes, he didn't know if it was day or night, nor how much time had passed.
His only certainty about the world outside was that someone might still care about him, because when he looked at the door of the solitary confinement, he saw a tray with some small partitions.
On each of them, some almost unrecognizable type of food waiting for Johan to approach and satisfy his hunger.
Next to the tray, a metal mug filled with water.
"God in heaven-" Johan tried to speak, but was hit by a coughing fit that made him cringe again, feeling a stabbing pain in his ribs.
'Shit...' He laughed internally. 'Mason did a hell of a job on me... But thank you, whoever you are. I was dying of thirst...'
When the coughing fit finally subsided, Johan crept slowly towards the tray and mug, sat down very slowly, making sure he didn't make any movements that would damage his ribs, and began to drink the water.
Slowly, Johan took small sips of the liquid, as if it were the most precious item that had ever landed in his hands, since he didn't know when the next time someone would bring him food and drink would be.
When Johan had drunk half the mug, he decided to start eating, his throat feeling much softer than it had a few moments ago.
Examining the contents of the tray more carefully, Johan saw some rice, a strange but pleasant-smelling porridge, a reddish broth that slightly resembled the meat stew of the head servant, Alma, and a piece of bread.
Of course, the prototype beef stew in front of Johan smelled nowhere near as good as Alma's stew.
But the young man ate carefully.
The memory of that stew made the food seem tasteless, but he needed all the sustenance he could get if he was to heal his wounds and come out of there in one piece to face the challenges that lay ahead.
When Johan managed to clear the tray, he finished drinking the water from the mug, and lay down a little more stretched out this time, trying to feel how far he could go to get his ribs in place without passing out from the pain, and when he found a comfortable enough position, he let unconsciousness take over his mind again.
In his mind, the whole scene of the beating he had taken from the guards replayed like a movie, and Johan smiled very slightly when he remembered the face of that guard who had been kind to him.
Johan's whole body still ached, but at least he was a little safer, and he knew that, in a silent agreement, the nice guard had intervened in the mess, knowing that if Johan remained in that cell, his fate might find an end much sooner.
He didn't have any broken bones that hadn't been caused by Mason, and even his scratches and bruises weren't as severe as they could have been if the attacks hadn't been carefully restrained.
Johan was relieved to know that he had at least one ally in that hellhole.
***
Johan could only perceive the passage of time thanks to how his wounds were healing.
He couldn't tell day from night, or what time it was, but Johan knew that several days had passed when he woke up one day and managed to stretch, feeling only a minimal pain in his ribs.
He was overcome by an indescribable sense of relief when he managed to perform that frugal movement.
Looking at the door, he saw the mug of water and the tray of food, and immediately went towards the two items, eating and drinking a little less carefully this time.
Giving way to a bit of greed and voraciousness.
Not that the prison food was particularly tasty.
But Johan was finally healing, and was already able to eat and drink more willingly.
It didn't matter how much longer he had to spend in solitary confinement.
Eventually, he would be released from that place, and go back to where the common criminals - the bad and dangerous criminals - were.
And Johan needed all the strength he could muster to stand up to them.
After all, a single guard as an ally wasn't going to save his life if push came to shove.
***
Johan was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, meditating.
He had found meditation an unexpectedly effective way of dealing with silence and his own thoughts, without losing the solid sanity to which he clung.
What's more, Johan had also discovered an interesting fact about meditation.
He was able to look back on every situation so far, no matter what it was, and study it as deeply as possible.
In order to understand everything in the best way.
Johan was recalling the fight against Mason and his henchmen, trying to understand how he could have gotten out of that situation with fewer injuries, when he heard the sound of something solid hitting the metal door of his solitary confinement several times.
A few moments later, a guard's voice echoed from outside.
"Erick Vaughn, face the wall opposite the door. You have a visitor."