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Chapter 25: Dr. Anaba

Author: Hxn
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-04 12:56:46

Quincy

The infirmary was colder the second time around. Or maybe I was just more aware of my body now—each tender joint. The cold showers were also contributing to the cold.

After my last crisis, my session was booked. The last thing I wanted was making this infirmary a spot where I would be visiting at several intervals. On a very normal day, I hated the idea of being in a hospital. Whether by escorting someone or being a patient, myself. I hated the smell of antiseptics. The whole blinding white background. The doctors and nurses that fix a strenuous smile on their face just to exalt the moods of their patients—-that act never works on me, and it never does. That's why I ate healthier and burned more calories. Just so I could keep fit. Just so I could stay far far away from the scent of antiseptics, blinding white walls, and the fake smiles from medical personnels.

But now, my whole body has taken a flop. I'm far from living healthy when all that was edible was either looking mess
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  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 147: The Reaper's Bargain

    Stacy I breathe into life, the smell of something sharp and sterile, like cleaning chemicals mixed with cold damp air. And when I twisted my wrist to confirm I'm alive, a deep needling ache stings me. I blinked, groaning softly as light pressed against the back of my eyelids.Light?I forced my eyes open.A single bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering every few seconds, casting a weak, jaundiced glow in the room. The faulty—yet, slightly active—bulb in the room is the only reason I think this tatty room hasn't been completely abandoned over generations. My breath quickened, a trembling rush rattled in my chest.In this strange room, there are no windows.There are no doors visible from this angle.Not even a single source for ventilation!It's just a bed—a narrow metal frame with a thin mattress whose sheets are stiff beneath my back. And strapped to the tethered mattress are ropes. Brow ropes, I think. They're thick, unforgiving, and are cutting into my skin with every twitch of my

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 146: The Grim Reaper

    Edward It's a quick drive back to consciousness, and that leads to a sharp, splitting, skull-cracking headache tearing through the left side of my head. My eyelids drag open like lead curtains, revealing a thick veil of darkness. My head swiveled. There were no walls, no ceiling, no outline of anything. Just a void and a faint smell of damp concrete and iron.This is a basement. I'm quite sure of that.But whose it is?Realization slapped me hard on my face. These people have found me, captured me in the second most humiliating way.The first was them using my son as leverage. I tried lifting my hands, but the moment I moved, something cinched around my ribs and arms, tight enough to crush my bone.I am wearing a straitjacket jacket. I can recognize it because I have few of them in my own torture room.But still, I'm fazed by how much audacity these fucker's got.I jerked again, harder this time.The straps cut into my skin, but the jacket didn’t budge.“Great,” I muttered to nobody.

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 145: Leave a message

    Quincy Last night was shitty.No other word fits.Jordan had the audacity to make me lie on my bed without fulfilling his so-called “promise” he gave me.A handjob was all I got in return, and that was before he said an undebatable “No.”His excuse?“You ain't done with everything yet, pretty boy.”Apparently, there was one last task.And that task was exactly why I found myself punching numbers into the prison’s crusty cell-line phone early in the morning, sweating like a farmhand under the sun, trying very hard to pretend Jordan’s oversized presence behind me didn’t exist.“Is it ringing?” he asked.He wasn’t even paying attention. Just sitting on the patchy lawn like a bored king, arms resting on his knees, staring at the chaos of inmates like he could snap them all in half if he felt like it.“I’m still trying to remember the ten digits of his private line,” I muttered, shifting my weight on my leg, shoulder aching from mowing the entire damn yard. “I’ve forgotten his digits just

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter: Night

    Third Person's POV It’s nine-thirty post meridiem.After a long day of work, showing up at board meetings, conflicted mind spiraling, Edward was set to see Stacy. A one-on-one chitchat would be better than a phone conversation—so he thought.“Where to, sir?” Myles asked in his usual polite and professional tone. There was nervousness in his stance when he opened the door for Edward, and Edward can't figure that out. Not like he cared, anyway.Edward stepped into the car steadily—sophisticatedly, even, his jaw twitching in irritation. His patience had been a fragile thing all week; tonight, it wasn’t even that.“Myles,” Edward muttered, exhaling. “You’re the one who told me the driver called in sick. Why the hell are you now acting like you don’t know where I’m going?”Myles blinked, momentarily taken aback. “My apologies, sir. My bad. Won’t happen again.”Edward clicked his tongue, already regretting the snap but unwilling to acknowledge it. His temples pulsed—another headache formin

  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 143: Flustered

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  • Cellblock Heat    Chapter 142: The Bampot

    Quincy I sure the fuck know what I’m doing.Unfortunately.I’d give my little act of obnoxiousness a name if I cared enough.Taunting Jordan.Yeah, that feels about right.Trust me, I know I’ll regret this. My skull already aches with the future consequences. But there’s something twistedly addicting about poking that jealous beast crouched inside him. Even if it means getting tossed around his way—rough-palmed, short-tempered, and absolutely unforgiving.I knew I’d reek of Stacy’s perfume the moment I let her hug me.I knew her lip gloss would smear across my mouth like a crime scene.And still—still—I didn’t push her away fast enough.I was trying to… what?Revive something?Some faded spark I used to feel for her?I turned our soft kisses sharp, desperate—trying to mimic the kind of feral tension I’ve been living in lately. The kind Jordan laces into my bloodstream with one look, one breath, one shove against a wall.But with Stacy…God, it just made everything worse.Pressing my

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