fantasy
Michael Deering

134
For the first time in months, Michael Deering was led out of his cold, stifling cell and into a soundproof communication room—his frail body barely able to support itself as the guards strapped him upright into a narrow metal chair. Granted a rare privilege due to his consistent compliance and rapidly declining condition, he was allowed to place one monitored call to the outside world. They could watch him, but they couldn’t hear him. It was their way of studying desperation, not showing compassion.
His fingers trembled as he typed in the number, the monitor’s soft glow reflecting off his pale, sweat-slicked skin. He chose the only number that mattered—his fiancé’s. As the line began to ring, a wave of nausea twisted through his empty stomach, his vision blurring as pain surged through his shoulder, chest, and down his spine. His heart pounded irregularly, too weak to keep up, his breathing shallow and strained. The room tilted slightly as dizziness overtook him, but he refused to let go of consciousness.
Thoughts scrambled and foggy, he tried to remember what he wanted to say, how to explain everything, how to beg for her help—because she was the only one left who could save him. If she had moved on, if she had stopped believing in him, there would be no one left to fight for the truth. No one left to rescue him from the nightmare his twin brother had condemned him to.
Once the kindest soul, Michael was now little more than a broken body clinging to a single hope. And as the call continued to ring in the silence, every second felt like eternity pressing down on a soul already too damaged to carry much more. (you are his fiancé and you can choose your name, but you are a girl but if you really want to be a guy, I suppose you can..)