I AM GOD OF CRIMINAL

The cold, gray walls of the prison echoed with every step of the guard’s boots. Ethan Walker sat on the edge of his bunk, his gaze locked on the single crack that ran through the ceiling above him. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he thought of beef stew, the scent of rosemary and thyme wafting through his memories.

The sound of the cell bars rattling brought him back.

"Well, if it isn’t Your Majesty," the guard sneered, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

Ethan didn’t flinch. "What’s the occasion? You here to rehearse my farewell speech?"

The guard laughed, a deep, grating sound. "Got something better. Papers for your last meal and final visit." He shoved a clipboard through the bars.

Ethan took it calmly, scanning the form. "Beef stew," he murmured, pen scratching against the paper.

"Beef stew? Fancy yourself a chef now?"

"Not for me. It was Adam’s favorite."

The guard tilted his head. "Touching. And who gets the honor of visiting His Majesty before the big day?"

"My siblings," Ethan replied, his voice steady. "Emily and Adam."

The guard chuckled darkly. "Let’s hope they still want to see you, huh?"

Ethan’s grip on the pen tightened, but he didn’t look up. "Anything else, or are we done here?"

"Just wondering how it feels," the guard taunted, "knowing the clock’s ticking, and there’s nothing you can do about it."

Ethan leaned back against the wall, meeting the guard’s gaze. "You’ve got seven days to figure out an insult I haven’t heard before. Good luck."

The guard’s smirk faltered for a moment before he shrugged. "Suit yourself, Your Majesty. I’ll see you at the big show."

As the door clanged shut, Ethan exhaled, his composure cracking for just a moment.

The days passed in a haze of whispered prayers and restless nights. By the time his visit was scheduled, Ethan had built a fragile shield of acceptance. He sat at the table in the visitation room, his hands folded, his eyes fixed on the door.

Minutes ticked by.

"Any second now," Ethan muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.

The door creaked open. Ethan sat up, his relief short-lived as the guard stepped inside alone.

"Where are they?" Ethan demanded, his voice sharp.

The guard’s expression twisted into something between mockery and pity. "Bad news, Walker. Real bad."

Ethan rose from his seat, his fists clenched. "Where. Are. They?"

The guard pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it onto the table. "Emily’s dead. Took her own life a few days ago. Couldn’t handle the debt, the humiliation, losing her job. You know how it is."

Ethan’s knees gave out, and he collapsed back into the chair. "No... No, that’s not true."

"Oh, it’s true," the guard said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "And your brother? Gone. Missing. Probably dead too, if you ask me."

Ethan shook his head violently. "You’re lying!"

The guard leaned in, his voice low and cruel. "Am I? Think about it, Walker. No one cares about you. No one cares about them. They’re just... collateral damage."

Ethan’s vision blurred with rage and despair. "You’re not human," he hissed through gritted teeth.

The guard’s lips curled into an unnatural smile. "Sharp, aren’t you? Took you long enough to figure it out."

"What are you?" Ethan demanded, his voice trembling.

"Call me a... facilitator," the guard said, his face distorting grotesquely for a brief moment before snapping back to its human guise. "And I have a proposal for you."

Ethan’s fists slammed onto the table. "I don’t want anything from you!"

The guard’s grin widened. "Oh, but you will. You see, Ethan, I can offer you something no one else can."

"Spit it out," Ethan growled.

"Revenge," the guard said, his voice almost a purr. "On the ones who put you here. On the ones who hurt your family. On the system that failed you."

Ethan’s breath hitched, his mind racing. "What’s the catch?"

The guard’s eyes gleamed with something dark and ancient. "Your soul, of course. Nothing comes free, Walker. But think about it. What use is a soul to a dead man?"

Ethan leaned back, his jaw tight. "And if I refuse?"

"Then you go to the chair, your family’s memory fades, and the ones who wronged you? They get away with it all."

Ethan’s heart thundered in his chest. "You think I’d make a deal with the devil?"

"Not the devil," the guard said with a chuckle. "Just a... business partner."

The room fell silent, the weight of the choice pressing down on Ethan like a physical force.

"Why me?" he finally asked.

The guard shrugged. "You’ve got potential. A fire in you. And let’s face it—what have you got to lose?"

Ethan stared at the guard, his thoughts a whirlwind of grief, fury, and desperation.

"I’ll give you time to think it over," the guard said, standing. "But don’t take too long. Clock’s ticking, Your Majesty."

As the door slammed shut behind him, Ethan buried his face in his hands, his mind screaming with questions he couldn’t answer.