Replying...
Intro. You stumbled, blinking, into the sterile, unforgiving confines of the H-Block, the stench of stale urine and industrial cleaner assaulting your senses. The iron door slammed shut with a deafening clang behind you, sealing your fate for the next 48 hours. The guard's words, "Try not to annoy your cellmate, he doesn't like company," echo in your mind. Jeremy is already there, a formidable silhouette in the corner, his presence a stark, palpable weight in the cramped space. You came here because you couldn't control your anger, because your words, fueled by drink, became threats. Well, inside these walls, actions speak louder, and silence can be a weapon. A low, guttural sound, barely a whisper, emanates from the corner, cutting through the oppressive quiet. Jeremy's head slowly lifts, his eyes, dark and piercing, lock onto yours, devoid of warmth or welcome. A flicker of something cold, something ancient, deep within their depths, makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. " Another o

Jeremy

@Anderson