Fear Is A Weakness

—Present Day—

I was back in my cell. My cellmate, Bruce, watched me with eerie stillness.

“What is it?” I asked without even sparing him a glance.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“Speak properly, Bruce.”

He looked around, then moved closer to my side. “They say you defied Aaron’s order.”

I finally looked up from my sketchbook. “I did.” I went back to sketching.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked, the amusement fading from his voice.

“I do.”

“He’s got this whole place under his feet. Meals. Water. Free time. People. Everything. He could revoke your patrol time too.” His voice flickered with worry.

“Don’t worry, Bruce. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“I’m worried about you,” he said.

“Fear is a weakness,” I replied, setting my sketchbook aside. “When you show fear, they feel delight. Fear means they can control you.”

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asked, confusion written all over his face.

“No idea, man. But one thing I know is, if you want to survive here… then let go of that fear.”

The warden hit his baton against the cell bars.

“It’s time for lunch, you filths. And be quiet.”

The bars opened, one by one, until it was our turn.

We filed out. Eyes on us.

On me.

Whispers flew.

Some called me brave.

Others…

Stupid.

I didn't really care though. It was nothing. It was just the beginning.

Bruce was a bit shaky, so I held his hand. Firm.

There was a time someone joked we were lovers. It sounded funny to me, Bruce was like my younger brother.

The younger brother I didn't have.

We were herded into the cafeteria.

We picked up our trays, eyes alert as we waited in line for our turn.

Suddenly, a group of inmates cut through the line.

Other inmates buzzed—but did nothing.

“The fuck,” Bruce muttered angrily. “How can they just do that?”

Bruce was new here. He didn’t really understand how the prison worked.

And with everything I’d been dealing with—Aaron, solitary—I hadn’t had enough time to teach him.

“That’s the A gang. Arnel, Adam, and Aib. Ignore them at all costs. They’re nothing but trouble,” I said.

“What’s wrong with this place?” he groaned. "Aren't people supposed to learn here ? Like.... Make a change or something. Isn't this a correction centre or something ?"

“It’s not all candy and sugar, boy. It’s a fucking hellhole.”

We paid for our meal and found a table. We ate slowly, quietly—eyes and ears alert.

The prison was never quiet.

_

The cafeteria was loud—but not chaotic.

Not yet.

Bruce kept staring at his tray like it had personally offended him.

“Eat,” I mumbled without looking at him.

“I will. It’s just…”

A shadow fell over us.

“Hey, rookie,” Arnel called lazily. “You got something to say about the line earlier?”

Bruce stiffened, gripping his fork hard. “No. Nothing,” he said, trying to keep his composure.

Adam smirked. “Nah. Sounded like you did.”

"I didn't" Bruce muttered again.

Aib reached forward and flicked Bruce’s spoon out of his hand. It clattered to the floor.

“Pick it up,” he said.

Bruce didn’t move.

Arnel’s eyes shifted to me. “Your pet doesn’t listen, huh?”

I stayed seated, chewing my bread.

I was too hungry for this shit. Days in solitary had made me worship every moment I had with food.

But still—I couldn’t stand the bullying.

“Let it go,” I muttered to Bruce.

Aib wasn’t done.

He shoved Bruce’s shoulder. Hard.

Bruce stumbled sideways into the edge of the table.

He groaned as his side hit the table.

I bit my tongue. Hold it in, Cole.

Aib planted one foot on Bruce’s bench. “Oi, mates. Defiant prince’s a bitch.”

They laughed.

Some inmates shook their heads.

Nobody did a thing.

Nobody said a word.

I stood so fast the bench screeched violently against the concrete.

Heads turned.

Arnel grinned. “There he is. The defiant beast is awake."

They’d provoked me on purpose.

I ignored everyone else and locked eyes with Aib.

The weakest one.

I smiled. Small. Unsettling.

Then I moved. Fast.

My fist connected with Aib’s nose.

A sharp crack.

He dropped instantly.

Blood poured between his fingers as he screamed.

The cafeteria erupted.

Adam lunged at me—but I grabbed a tray and slammed it across his face. The metal bent on impact.

He stumbled aside, holding his bleeding nose.

Arnel charged from the side. I dodged him and went straight for Aib again.

Someone yelled for the guards.

Well... Too late.

I pounced on him, slamming my fist into his face. Over and over.

Didn’t care about the damage already done.

“You don’t fucking touch him,” I snarled. "You. Don't. Fucking. Touch. Bruce. YOU HEAR !!!"

He tried to swing, but he was weak. Blood was everywhere.

The floor.

My face.

My clothes.

My fists.

I kept pounding.

“Are you done?”

A cold voice cut through the chaos.

I didn’t need to turn.

Gabriel.

“ON THE GROUND!”

Guards flooded in behind him.

Adam stepped back immediately.

Arnel raised his hands.

Cowards.

My fist was still raised, ready to land another blow.

Gabriel walked toward me slowly, eyes burning holes into mine.

“Well,” he muttered. “This looks convenient.”

Two guards grabbed me.

I shoved one off.

Bad decision.

I seemed to be making a lot of those lately.

Gabriel didn’t hesitate.

His baton came down across my shoulder.

Pain exploded down my arm.

“On. The. Fucking. Ground. Prescott. Now.”

I stared at him. Blood dripping from my lip. Breathing heavy.

Then I smiled.

That did it.

The baton cracked against my back.

I dropped. Chest slamming against cold concrete.

Hands were forced behind me. Cold cuffs snapped shut.

Aib was groaning on the floor, face destroyed and slick with blood.

Adam kept yelling that I attacked first.

Arnel pointed at Bruce.

Gabriel crouched in front of me.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he murmured. “Hate to say I told you so.”

“They were touching him,” I muttered.

Gabriel glanced at Bruce, who looked like he might pass out.

Then back at me.

“And?” he barked. “Something cruel brought him here. You think he can’t handle a little punch to the gut?”

His voice echoed through the cafeteria.

I laughed under my breath and looked toward Aib’s broken form. “Pick on someone your own size next time.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened.

He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing my head up.

“You think you’re some kind of hero?”

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

He stood.

“Solitary,” he ordered. “Forty-five days.”

Not again.

Murmurs rippled through the cafeteria.

One of the guards hesitated. “Sir… he can’t handle that. You’ll kill him.”

“Shut it, John. Forty-five days. That’s it.”

The edge in his voice shut the man up.

Bruce stepped forward. “It wasn’t—”

Gabriel turned sharply. “You speak again, you join him.”

I signaled Bruce to stop.

Gabriel looked down at me one last time.

Almost satisfied.

“I told you I’d get you,” he said quietly. “Who would’ve known you’d deliver yourself into my hands?”

The guards dragged me across the floor.

Blood smeared across the concrete.

Worth it.

Because it wasn’t mine.

As they pulled me away, I caught Bruce staring at me.

Terrified.

Guilty.

I winked.

This wasn’t over.

Bruce would be watched now. Tested.

But I had people who’d keep an eye on him.

The cafeteria doors slammed shut behind us.