The guards rushed in, and everyone who was still standing was thrown on the floor to keep me company. The water was turned off, and even the men not participating in the fight got chained. I didn't get any seizures this time, still basking in the rush I felt.
I was grinning on the cold, hard tiles, with my head bleeding and my eye swollen. Furthermore, I was deeply satisfied with me and my ability.
No remorse, no guilt, nothing.
You got what you deserved.
The whole room was searched, and we got 'body searched' right there. I didn't give a fuck, and was still feeling too happy, as that little thing could have brought me down.
Then we were partly brought to the hospital ward, this time it was another, bigger room, not the fucked-up one I was in until now, and partly back to the cells.
I was in the group that went to the hospital ward, naturally.
When I saw the needle nurse, I winked at her, but I think my eye was too swollen, so she shouldn't be able to tell.
The nurse looked away the moment she saw me.
Scared? You should be.
Someone else, a doctor, came in and first went to the 'heavier cases'. One that was still being unconscious with an unbelievable scar and a sudden missing body part; another who I had stabbed in his chest; the third one, with a scarred over stomach stab wound. Stomach-guy repeated hysterically that it was me, that I was the culprit.
"He cut his dick off! DO YOU HEAR ME? I saw everything! BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!" The man screamed, and the Needle-Nurse gripped her clipboard tightly.
I lay in a hospital bed chained and thought of how I could get them to fear me even more—something crazy I could do. I thought of feigning an evil laugh or screaming at them, but at the end I opted for a classic move.
I quietly hummed some melody, the yelling prisoner stopping to talk abruptly. The doctor turned to me slowly, mustering me. And yeah, I was still fucking naked.
"Stop that." He frowned at me.
"It's a bit cold. And instead of caring for people that are fine, how about caring for me, who has actual wounds?"
The doctor turned to the three men, one of them still unconscious, one scared as hell, and one staring at his chest wound in a daze, before coming to me. He examined my head after putting a blanket over me.
"You did this, right?" He spoke while cleaning my wound.
"Yeah. I found my so-called murder victim inside a parallel world, safe, and sound. Coming back, my ability was enhanced. Now I can injure people and leave scars on them instead of wounds." Telling the truth, I looked him straight in the eyes.
"Do you believe me?" I asked him earnestly.
He sighed,
"I am starting to believe that this is what you believe."
"Yeah. I believe in myself." Too many times had I not done so.
"If you don't believe yourself, who will? Some prison doctor? I tell you, he won't."
The doctor fell silent and continued his work. The stomach guy from before was utterly silent, and I loved how meek he had become.
I really loved this feeling.
Power was great, so fucking great.
I felt really bouncy and wanted to call my grandma to show off. But they would surely record it, and that would be… well, I could probably do that.
There wasn't much to do on my wounds, besides cleaning them, stitching my forehead, and examining if my eye was okay.
"You weren't born with that eye color, were you?" He asked me, and I looked at him.
"Haven't you paid attention? In the parallel world, my ability had somewhat gotten improved; naturally, so has my eye color. Logical, isn't it? Ever seen someone evolve without them changing their eye color? I don't have, do you have? I don't." When I finished, I broke into laughter, finding myself funny as hell.
I only got strange looks, and everyone I looked at averted his eyes when my one good eye fell on him. Good, exactly like I wanted it to be. Though the last part was me really being funny, not acting for my psycho-image.
Let's hope everyone is happy and talkative enough for rumors to spread.
After being patched up, my injuries were photographed, and they finally gave me clothes. Then I was brought into solitary confinement. On my way, I saw a few other guys from the showers being brought there as well. I think everyone involved in this incident was locked up separately, besides the patients with unusual wounds/scars.
None of them looked at me, making me smile in satisfaction.
Inside my cell, I slumped down onto the thin mattress on the floor and slept like a log.
******
The next time I woke up because I was roughly pulled up. It should be the next day; damn, that were a few tumultuous days since coming here.
I noticed that I was cuffed again, two guards walking beside me, nearly carrying me, one guard taking the lead to wherever we walked to.
Passing a few doors and a few corridors where they used cards and keys, keys and cards, keys, cards and fucking keys, I was brought to what I would say was an interrogation room.
There was no one inside but one of these two-way mirrors. Seeing my reflection, I found it good that my wounds hadn't healed yet; they should see who was the real victim of yesterday's bawl.
I was chained against the metal chair with my ankles, and my hands were chained against the table. I sensed that the air had changed, the guards working awfully professionally and cautiously.
As if my danger level had increased, and they had been called out to pay extra attention in front of me.