The sterile scent of the infirmary couldn't mask the raw grief that emanated from Arun. He clung to Neha from behind, his body wracked with sobs that seemed to claw their way from his chest. "Neha," he choked out, his voice thick with despair, "can I please just stay like this for a moment?"
Neha, startled by the sudden weight of his embrace and the warmth of his tears against her back, turned to face him, a delicate blush warming her cheeks. "Arun? What's happened? Why are you crying?"
"They're transferring me," he mumbled, his words punctuated by a shuddering breath. "Tomorrow morning. They're taking me away from this prison."
The blood drained from Neha's face. "Transferred?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. "But why?"
He shook his head helplessly, the uncertainty amplifying his fear. "I don't know," he admitted, the words catching in his throat. The stark white walls of the infirmary seemed to close in, mirroring the suffocating panic that threatened to consume him.
Neha, her heart aching for his distress, pulled him close, offering the comfort of human touch. "It's okay, Arun," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm against his turmoil.
He clung to her, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and longing. "Neha, I don't know if I'll ever see you again, but I have to tell you… I've liked you from the moment I first saw you."
His confession, raw and unexpected, sent a wave of heat through her. Flustered, she gently pushed him back, her voice soft but firm. "Arun, you're still so young. Focus on yourself, build a life outside these walls…"
The infirmary door burst open, the sudden intrusion shattering the fragile intimacy. Karim rushed in, his face creased with worry. He had caught wind of Arun's transfer from a fellow inmate. The sight of Arun and Neha locked in an embrace filled him with a profound sadness. He pulled them both into a hug, his own tears flowing freely. "Kid, why are you leaving?" he cried, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm going to miss you so much!"
The three friends huddled together, their whispered conversations a desperate attempt to hold onto the fleeting moments of camaraderie they had found within the prison's harsh confines. They talked through the night, sharing stories, fears, and hopes for a future that seemed increasingly uncertain.
As dawn painted the sky with hues of orange and purple, a gruff voice pierced the quiet solemnity of the infirmary. "Arun, it's time."
With heavy steps and a heart full of sorrow, Arun bid his friends farewell. He embraced Karim and Neha one last time, a silent promise exchanged in the depths of their shared gaze.
Karim and Neha stood by the infirmary door, their tear-filled eyes watching as Arun was escorted away. The steel bars clanged shut, severing the last physical connection between them.
Outside, Jackie observed the emotional scene with a predatory glint in his eyes. "Perfect," he muttered, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "They're ripe for the taking. Time to strike." He beckoned two of his henchmen. "Grab Karim."
Before Karim could react, he was seized, strong arms pinning him in place. He struggled against their iron grip, but their combined strength was overwhelming.
Jackie, his eyes burning with malice, slung Neha over his shoulder like a sack of grain, her muffled protests echoing in the desolate hallway. He carried her towards the deserted backyard, the stage for his long-awaited revenge.
He bound Karim and Neha to chairs, gagging them to silence their cries. Neha's muffled screams and the terror in her eyes ignited a sadistic pleasure within him.
"Someone's coming," one of his men warned, his voice tense.
"I'll handle it," Jackie growled, his focus unwavering. "Keep him busy."
The inmate hurried away, intercepting the approaching guard. He engaged the guard in conversation, skillfully diverting him from the backyard.
Jackie retrieved a heavy metal rod, its cold surface promising pain. He knelt before Karim, relishing the moment. "This is for you, Karim," he hissed, his voice laced with venom. "I wonder how your dear stepmother and her husband will feel when they discover their precious adopted son was murdered by their own flesh and blood?" He let out a chilling laugh, the sound grating against the quiet morning. With a swift, brutal motion, he brought the rod crashing down on Karim's hand, the sickening crack echoing through the air.
Karim, his face contorted in agony, glared at Jackie with unadulterated hatred.
"Surprised your friends aren't here to save you?" Jackie taunted. "They're all sleeping soundly, thanks to Arun. Or rather, thanks to the voice inside him. He calls himself the Spirit of Pain."
Hours before sunrise, a chill permeated the prison infirmary, but not from the approaching dawn. The Spirit of Pain, a malevolent entity inhabiting Arun's body, stirred. It slipped from the bed, its movements fluid and silent, leaving the real Arun trapped in a slumber he couldn't escape.
The spirit navigated the dimly lit corridors, its eyes burning with an eerie intensity. It reached Jackie's cell and materialized before him, a chilling apparition in the pre-dawn darkness. "Wake up," it rasped, its voice a guttural echo that sent shivers down Jackie's spine. "It's time to fulfill your end of the bargain. You've played your part; now I'll play mine."
Jackie, jolted awake, stared at the figure before him, his heart pounding in his chest. "Spirit of Pain?" he stammered, fear mingling with a perverse excitement.
"The one and only," the spirit sneered. "Now, lead the way. Show me where Karim's loyal followers sleep. I'll take care of them, leaving you to deal with Karim himself."
"Thank you," Jackie whispered, a wave of gratitude washing over him. He quickly dressed and followed the spirit, his mind racing with anticipation.
Jackie gathered Karim's crew in the prison yard, his voice ringing with false bravado. "I challenge any of you to a fight!" he declared. "One by one, you can face me. Whoever defeats me will receive a million dollars upon release!"
The inmates, their eyes gleaming with greed and a desperate hope for freedom, surged forward, eager to accept the challenge.
"I'll fight him first!" one man shouted, pushing his way to the front.
But Karim, sensing something amiss, stepped forward. "Hold on," he commanded, his voice firm. "There's been a change of plans. I'm not the one fighting today."
All eyes turned towards the roof of a nearby shelter. A figure stood silhouetted against the first light of dawn. It was Arun, or rather, the Spirit of Pain controlling his body. With a powerful leap, he launched himself into the air, seemingly defying gravity. He landed in the center of the yard, a small explosion of dust erupting around him.
"I'll fight you all," the spirit boomed, its voice resonating with an otherworldly power. "And I'll fight you all at once."
"We won't fight you, Arun!" one of the prisoners shouted. "You're Karim's friend!"
The spirit moved with a speed that belied Arun's slight frame. A single, precisely aimed kick sent the protesting inmate flying backwards, crashing to the ground unconscious.
"I am not your friend, Arun," the spirit snarled. "Now fight, if you want the money!"
A hulking inmate, muscles rippling, charged towards the spirit, a vicious punch aimed at its head. With a casual flick of its finger, the spirit deflected the blow, then slapped the inmate across the face with such force that he crumpled to the ground.
The remaining inmates, shocked and intimidated, exchanged uneasy glances. They decided on a new tactic: a coordinated attack. They surged forward as one, a wave of fists and feet aimed at the spirit.
But the spirit was unfazed. With an almost casual grace, it weaved through their attacks, its hands remaining in its pockets. Then, with lightning-fast precision, it unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, each strike finding its mark with devastating accuracy. Within moments, every inmate lay groaning on the ground, defeated.
"Impressive," Jackie said, his voice filled with admiration.
"My work here is done," the spirit replied, its voice cold and devoid of emotion. "Now, finish what you started. Kill Karim and Neha. Avenge your boss."
Jackie, his resolve strengthened, nodded grimly. With the help of his men, he dragged the unconscious inmates back to their cells. The spirit, its mission complete, retreated back into the depths of Arun's mind, leaving his body to return to the infirmary. There, Arun slept soundly, unaware of the chaos he had unleashed, until the guards arrived to transfer him to another prison.
Back in the present, the backyard was a scene of brutal violence. Karim, bound and gagged, was covered in blood, his body bearing the marks of Jackie's relentless assault.
"I'll give you a break for now," Jackie sneered, his face splattered with Karim's blood. "But your little princess is next."
Neha, her eyes wide with terror, struggled against her restraints, her muffled screams a desperate plea for help that no one could hear.
Jackie knelt before her, his touch gentle yet menacing as he caressed her cheek. "It's because of you my boss is dead," he whispered, his voice a chilling caress. "Now it's your time to die."