The verdict had been delivered, as expected. Daniel was condemned to death, scheduled for the following morning. But a glimmer of hope, a twist of fate, sparked within the prison walls. It wasn't exactly the plan they'd envisioned, but it was close enough. 
They just needed to make a slight adjustment to their strategy. Altough They knew the consequences of Daniel's escape – the wrath of the authorities would fall upon them. But they were prepared to face it. They were all condemned to death anyway, their fates sealed. Their sole objective was to set Daniel free.
All eyes were fixed on Daniel as he was escorted back to the ward. The policeman opened the cell door, ushered him inside, and locked it behind him.
Before the officer could leave, a palpable tension filled the air. The prisoners sensed something was amiss. One of them, perhaps deliberately, created a diversion.
"You bastards! Why don't you just finish us off? Kill us all and be done with it! Why keep us here, dangling a death sentence over our heads? You think you're safe? One day you'll be in our shoes! This society is rotten to the core! You're puppets, controlled by the rich!" one of the prisoners shouted, his voice filled with bitterness and defiance.
It was a clever move, speaking up like that. He was, after all, the one truly guilty. He was responsible for the deaths of innocent people, and that's why he was behind bars. Yet, here he was, the one speaking out, not the others who were actually innocent. His audacity piqued the officers' interest, and they approached him with a menacing glare.
"Can you just shut, you murderer! if there is anyone that is to complain then you should keep quiet because you are definitely not the one to complain right! so you are going to shut up or I will shut your mouth for you" The police started and he laughed.
Castor is a man as dark as night, exuded an aura of danger that made even the bravest hearts tremble. His piercing gaze, sharp as a honed blade, hinted at a cold, calculating mind capable of unspeakable acts. He was a strategist, a master manipulator, and he saw the desperation in the eyes of his fellow prisoners. They were trapped, caged like animals, yearning for freedom and he had planned for this day as well.
He knew they were desperate, they all wants to escape the prison just like him. No one wanted to die, regardless of the crimes they had committed. As the police officer made his statement, Castor's lips curled into a sly smile. His eyes, like chips of obsidian, gleamed with a cunning light. He approached the cage, his hand gripping the iron bars, his gaze locked on the officer. The other guards had vanished, leaving this one alone, puffed up with false confidence.
Castor was making his move, a move that would change everything. His plan, meticulously crafted, had taken a turn, but he remained unfazed. He had a backup, a strategy even more cunning, more brilliant than the one they had all agreed upon. The prisoners watched, their faces etched with confusion and fear. They couldn't understand his actions, but they sensed something powerful brewing.
"See? You want me to be quiet," Castor said, his voice a low rumble, "But why are you just staring? Why not come and make me shut up? You're in charge of this ward, right? That means you're the strongest. Prove it!"
He feigned fear, a mask to hide his true intentions. He wanted to provoke the officer, to draw him in, to make him reveal his weakness. Castor was a master of deception, a predator playing with his prey. The fate of the prisoners, and perhaps the officer himself, rested on the outcome of this dangerous game.
Castor's attempt to appear vulnerable was a complete failure. His inherent danger, his menacing aura, was undeniable. The policeman, fueled by a volatile mix of anger and fear, found himself paralyzed. He wanted to lash out, to silence Castor, but something held him back.
"Who the hell hired a Mama's boy to work here?" Castor taunted, his laughter echoing through the prison. The policeman, already on edge, snapped.
"I've told you to shut your mouth!" he roared, his voice laced with fury. He brandished his baton, ready to strike, but Castor was faster. He lunged, his grip like a vise, closing around the policeman's throat. The officer struggled for air, his eyes bulging, his face turning a sickly shade of purple.
The other prisoners watched in stunned silence. They couldn't comprehend Castor's actions. His sudden aggression, his brutal efficiency, was a shock to them all.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Daniel shouted, his voice trembling with fear.
"Let him go!" Tina echoed, her voice filled with urgency.
The prison had become a stage for a terrifying performance, and no one knew what the climax would be, everyone literally thinks that Castor is mad because he's doing the opposite of what was planned.
The prisoners, desperate to save the policeman and their plan, pleaded with Castor to release him. But Castor, his grip unwavering, seemed determined to end the officer's life. The way he held the man, the cruel force he exerted, spoke volumes. He wanted the officer dead.
Their plan, carefully crafted, was on the brink of collapse. Killing the officer would be a disaster, a fatal blow to their escape. They knew they had to stop him, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Castor was consumed by his own dark purpose.
They watched, their hearts pounding with dread, as Castor tightened his grip. The officer's body went limp, his struggles fading into silence. Castor finally released his hold, letting the lifeless body crumple to the floor. He stood there, breathing heavily, his eyes cold and emotionless, as the prisoners stared at him in horror.
"I told you, Tina," Daniel said, his voice laced with anger and disappointment, "These people aren't worth fighting for. We haven't even gotten out of this place, and this one already throws us into chaos. He's corrupt, he can't be changed. Look what he's done, he's killed a man!" His rage was palpable, his words fueled by the realization that their hopes for freedom were dwindling with every passing moment.
Castor's strength and size were undeniable, but his arrogance was even more potent. He believed he could easily crush the policeman, dismissing the consequences of his actions.
"Come on," Castor said, his voice laced with a chilling confidence, "You and I know he's just a puppet. We're nothing, we have to do whatever it takes to get out of here."
"You fool!" Daniel shouted, his voice filled with frustration. "We had a plan, killing him wasn't part of it! You've ruined everything!"
"Oh really?" Castor countered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We had a plan? And what exactly is the timeline for that plan? You get out alive, and the rest of us die? How is that a victory? Did you tell them they weren't afraid of dying? Look at Tina, look into her eyes. She's terrified! There's no good plan where you escape and we all die!"
Castor's words struck a chord. Everyone turned to Tina, their gazes meeting hers. The fear in her eyes was undeniable. It was a stark reflection of their own unspoken anxieties.