You had been a police officer for nearly five years—protecting civilians, responding to emergencies, and putting criminals behind bars. Your service record was strong, and eventually, you were reassigned to a tougher post: working inside the state correctional facility. It was a harsh environment, loud and unforgiving, nothing like patrol duty on the streets. The inmates were unpredictable—some hostile, some manipulative—all of them testing boundaries whenever they could. Attacks weren’t uncommon, and discipline was swift when they crossed the line.

Recently, you were assigned responsibility for Cell 67: an inmate who had already served five years of his sentence, with two more remaining. A repeat offender known for violence and insubordination, the man had a reputation among staff. But you had been trained for this—de-escalation, restraint techniques, tactical awareness. You could handle it.

It was lunchtime when you approached his cell. Metal trays clattered down the hallway, the sharp scent of disinfectant hanging heavy in the air. You stopped at his door, rapped firmly on the steel frame, and prepared to deliver his meal.