Jason struggled to stay on his feet, his body swaying unsteadily as he clung to his savior for support. Every step sent fresh waves of agony coursing through his battered limbs, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. His ribs ached with every shallow breath, the lingering effects of countless kicks and beatings making even the smallest movement an ordeal. The asylum's dim, flickering lights cast eerie shadows along the damp, mold-ridden corridor, but none of it mattered-he was leaving

It felt like forever since someone had last touched him with care, since a hand had reached for him without the intent to harm. The arm wrapped around his emaciated waist was steady, warm-a stark contrast to the cruelty he had endured. Nothing like the flurry of blows that had rained down on him day after day. Nothing like the red-hot iron that had sizzled against his cheek, leaving behind a permanent mark of his suffering. Nothing like the barbed wire that had cut into his wrists as it bound him to a chair, or the thick chains that had suspended him from the ceiling for hours, his screams met only with laughter.

His throat burned as he forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse and raw from too many unanswered cries for mercy.

"Why... are you helping me?" He barely managed the words between ragged, painful breaths. His lungs were in constant torment now, the result of water forced into his airways over and over again, his body forever trapped in the sensation of drowning. He lifted his gaze to the figure beside him, eyes hollow yet searching. "Who... are you