Chapter 1 - Rain
The sound of rain echoed somewhere in the distance.
Drops of water fell at steady intervals.
Jake Walker slowly opened his eyes.
A dim ceiling. Rusted pipes. The smell of damp concrete.
His body felt strangely heavy, and a dull ache throbbed deep inside his head.
“...ugh.”
Frowning slightly, he pushed himself upright.
It was a narrow room.
Iron bars. A stained toilet. A metal bed. A high ceiling.
White floors. Rows of prison cells lined up in perfect order.
And the striped prison uniform he was wearing.
The sight was familiar.
Right. Prison.
Jake clicked his tongue softly.
Back when he was younger, he’d spent enough time in places like this.
Gang days. Theft. Assault. Violence.
Holding cells and prisons had long since stopped feeling unusual.
But this time was different.
Fifty years.
No parole.
He would spend the rest of his life here - until he turned eighty.
Jake let out a long breath.
“...This is hell.”
At that moment, a mechanical voice echoed from the speakers in the corridor.
“Block Five. Wake-up call. All inmates, line up immediately.”
Jake stepped toward the bars.
A long corridor. Prisoners standing in rows.
Shouting in the distance. Someone laughing.
The heavy footsteps of guards.
It was a complete prison.
A guard walked down the corridor. Black uniform. Baton. Expressionless face.
“Move.”
The voice was low and cold.
Jake clicked his tongue and stepped out of the cell.
Jake’s life in prison began.
6:00 AM - wake-up. Roll call. Breakfast. Labor. Lunch.
More labor. A short exercise period. Dinner. Night roll call. Lights out.
Every day repeated itself.
It was monotonous.
But prisons were all the same.
Arguments broke out in the cafeteria almost every day.
“Hey! His portion’s bigger than mine!”
“Bullshit!”
Shouting. Pushing. Sometimes fights nearly broke out.
Of course, open violence was prohibited.
Whenever trouble started, guards appeared immediately.
The inmates would be restrained, subdued, and thrown into solitary confinement.
Still, beatings and harassment hidden from the guards never disappeared.
Prison society was the same everywhere.
Jake had seen scenes like this countless times when he was younger.
So he never questioned it.
This place was the same.
Just another prison.
Nothing more.
Several months passed.
Jake gradually learned the prison’s social structure.
The men who ruled the cafeteria. The ones smuggling drugs.
The inmates who sucked up to the guards.
And the ones who quietly waited for their sentence to end.
No matter where you went, it never changed.
Jake silently carried boxes in the workshop.
The Black inmate beside him laughed.
“Hey, newbie. Fifty years, huh?”
Jake snorted.
“Yeah.”
“That’s rough.”
“What’d you do? Kill somebody?”
“...Shut up.”
The man grinned and put a cigarette in his mouth.
“You’ll get used to it eventually.”
Get used to it.
For some reason, those words sent a chill down Jake’s spine.
But that was prison.
At first, it felt like hell. Eventually, people adapted.
Humans could get used to anything.
No matter where they were.
Night.
After lights out.
Jake lay on the bed in his cell, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Thunder rumbled somewhere far away.
The rain still hadn’t stopped.
Fifty years left.
No... forty-nine years and a few months now.
Jake let out a faint laugh.
“Hard to even imagine...”
No one answered.
Only the sound of rain continued quietly through the darkness.
