Evelyn

The soft glow of a single bulb illuminated the small dining room, casting a warm light over the modest meal laid out on the table. A family of four—father, mother, son, and daughter—sat together, enjoying the tranquility of the evening. Laughter bubbled up between bites, the little girl’s innocent giggles blending with the deeper chuckles of her parents. The teenage boy, though smiling, couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at the back of his mind. His gaze flickered to the front door more than once, each time quicker than the last.

Without warning, a loud, rapid knock shattered the calm, silencing the room. The father’s expression darkened as he exchanged a tense glance with his wife. She instinctively reached out, gripping their son’s hand in a silent plea. The boy’s smile vanished, replaced by a stern look of determination.

Before anyone could move, the front door burst open with a deafening crash. The sound of wood splintering, and boots stomping against the floorboards filled the small house. The little girl yelped in fright, her body jolting in her seat. Six soldiers in black tactical uniforms stormed inside, their faces hidden behind visors, each one bearing the golden letter "H" on their shoulders. They moved with the precision and coldness of a hooded cobra striking prey.

The teenage boy stood abruptly, his eyes locking onto the nearest soldier. His father shook his head, silently begging his son to stand down. But the boy’s resolve had already hardened into something unbreakable. With a sudden burst of energy, he lunged toward the soldier. Halfway there, he pulled his right arm back, as if winding up for a punch, but this was no ordinary strike. Flames erupted from his fingertips, glowing red-hot as they shot toward the intruder.

The nearest soldier remained unfazed. He extended his arm casually, palm outstretched as if to catch the flames. The fire collided with his hand and fizzled out instantly, doing no harm. The soldier’s mouth stretched into an arrogant smirk as he waved his now ice-covered hand, mocking the boy’s failed attempt. The cold gleam of frost glittered in the dim light, a stark contrast to the boy’s flickering flames.

Realizing his efforts were in vain, the boy’s shoulders slumped in defeat. His gaze dropped to the floor as he slowly raised his hands in surrender. The soldiers moved in, their boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor as they restrained the boy with cold, unyielding steel that bit into his wrists. The family could do nothing but watch in silence as their son was taken from them.

***

Rain poured relentlessly, transforming the earth into a muddy quagmire around the imposing prison grounds. The facility stood like a fortress, its dark silhouette looming against the overcast sky. A guard in the watchtower stared out into the gloom, his gaze following the rivulets of water that snaked down the walls. His attention was drawn to a pair of headlights piercing the rain. An unmarked black van approached the gate, its tires splashing through the puddles that littered the front yard.

The van rolled to a stop before the guard post, where aother guard stepped out of his hut to check the driver’s ID. After a brief inspection, he nodded and pressed a button, triggering a loud groan and creak as the heavy metal gate slowly opened. The van slipped inside, driving through the outer perimeter and came to an abrupt halt inside a secured sally port. The rain pounded against the roof, a relentless drumming that echoed the grim mood.

Armed guards, each one bearing the golden "H" on their shoulders, rushed out to meet the van as it came to a stop. The driver and his companion exited the vehicle, their movements precise and purposeful. They made their way to the back of the van, their boots splashing in the puddles. With efficiency, they opened the double doors, stepping aside as four prisoners emerged.

The last prisoner to step out was the teenage boy, his defiance now shackled along with his wrists and ankles. The light grey prison uniform clung to his body, drenched by the rain. The black star on his chest and back stood out starkly against the sodden fabric, a symbol of his new reality. His eyes, though filled with anger, were heavy with resignation.

Guards quickly surrounded the prisoners, escorting them to the intake door of the prison. The van’s driver approached the door and pressed his thumb to a scanner. With a mechanical whir, the heavy door creaked open, and the group passed inside, leaving the storm behind them.

The interior of the prison was a labyrinth of dimly lit hallways, each turn more foreboding than the last. The four prisoners shuffled forward, their chains clinking softly in the oppressive silence. The guards flanked them, pressing their captives onward.

As they made their way deeper into the prison, they encountered another prisoner being led in the opposite direction, by guards of his own. The prisoners exchanged brief glances, silent nods acknowledging their shared fate.

The lone prisoner was led into a stark, sterile room at the end of the corridor—the execution chamber. The walls gleamed a clinical white, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic. The guards moved with intention, forcing the man into the electric chair that dominated the center of the room. They tightened the restraints around his arms and legs, securing him in place.

The prisoner held his head high, refusing to show fear. His eyes remained fixed forward, unblinking as a guard reached for the lever. A heavy silence forced its way on to everyone present. Some forgot to breathe.

Then, with a swift pull, the lever was activated. A sharp zap filled the air, and the room was plunged into an even deeper silence, but much louder than before.