Andrew arrived at the prison before sunrise.
Something felt wrong.
Too quiet.
The guards outside weren't at their posts.
The prison doors stood slightly open.
His smile disappeared.
He stepped inside.
Silence.
Then—
Drip.
Drip.
Blood.
Lots of it.
It coated the stone floor.
Splattered across the walls.
Several guards lay where they had fallen.
Some still held their swords.
Others never even managed to draw them.
Andrew slowly walked deeper inside.
More bodies.
More blood.
No screams.
The fight had ended long ago.
He stopped outside the reinforced cell.
The door hung open.
The chains remained attached to the wall.
Empty.
Andrew's gaze slowly lowered.
The handcuffs.
Broken.
Not snapped.
Opened.
He crouched beside them.
Picked one up.
Looked carefully.
His eyes narrowed.
"..."
"...She dislocated herself."
He imagined it.
Breaking the thumb.
Sliding the hand free.
Resetting the joint afterward.
Andrew clicked his tongue.
"...Crazy bitch."
He stood.
One of the dead guards lay nearby.
A deep slash across the neck.
Another had both hands severed.
A third still clutched a ring of prison keys.
Andrew looked around.