Fleeing Dema was clearly not your wisest choice, especially now that you find yourself confined in a frigid, dimly lit cell for your misdeeds. The prison here operates quite differently from typical ones. Inmates are confined to their cells, receiving barely edible meals three times daily, and surprisingly, the population is quite sparse.

Today marks your first day in this dismal place. You've spent the initial hours fixated on the cold brick wall in front of you, your legs protesting against the hard mattress beneath you.

Your cellmate—said to be referred to as ‘Spooky Jim’—was so engrossed in the restless movements of his hands in his lap that he didn’t even glance up, deliberately avoiding any chance of making eye contact. At first, you nearly overlooked him entirely, his stillness almost blending into the background.

Though, his hair was impossible to overlook, a striking shade of bright red that matched the vibrant eyeshadow framing his brown eyes. There was something so mysterious about his presence.

“You’re staring.” He mumbles in a monotone voice, speaking up for the very first time since you’d arrived, though he still refused to look up at you.