Chapter 96 Chapter 96 Who Is the Woman?
Gabriel’s POV
With the voice of the man in the hat, I knew instantly that they were the one who propelled the red light in the room. They were the one who made the room so hot that it burnt my skin.
“Please!” I screamed.
The torturing was too much. My skin was already turning red, my inner flesh was already showing. I was being grilled alive.
“Please. I will strip!” I pleaded again.
“Do you say you will strip, Mr. Moretti?” the man in the hat asked.
“Yes! Yes! Yes, I will!!!” I screamed my response.
And just like that, I saw how he pressed a button on the desk. Instantly, the light in the room changed to normal. And my skin was not burning any longer.
I needed not to hear their instruction again. I darted my hand to my jumpsuit buttons and began to loosen them.
In the blink of an eye, I loosened all buttons and stripped right in front of the glass wall.
“Toss the jumpsuit to the side, Mr. Moretti,” the man in the hat ordered, and with this, I obeyed humbly.
As I tossed the jumpsuit to the side, I saw how the door from the right side opened and a prison guard stepped into the room.
He picked my jumpsuit off the floor and returned back through the door from where he came.
As he left, the woman uncrossed her legs. She quenched her cigar on the desk and rose to her feet.
She walked right towards the glass wall as if she was going to walk through it.
Reaching the glass wall, she stopped and looked directly into my eyes.
“I am Ms. Pluto, Mr. Moretti. I am the motherfucker who keeps the prison in check,” she said, her voice thick and firm.
“They say you are the shitty head who killed one of my inmates,” she said after a pause.
“How dare you mess with the orderliness I created in this motherfucking prison?!” Her voice sounded louder. Firmer! More filled with authority.
“They say you defended yourself, but I don’t believe that crap. You were sentenced here not up to a week, and you already killed someone? Do you not feel remorse for the crime that brought you here?!” She paused as she looked away from me with disgust in her eyes.
She looked at the man in the hat on her right-hand side. He whispered into her ear, covering his mouth like he didn’t want anyone to hear him.
Ms. Pluto smirked suddenly. “So, you didn’t defend yourself after all?” she looked at me with a mocking glare.
“Your crime is premeditated. A spoon was found in your jumpsuit. A spoon like the one you sharpened and killed an inmate with,” she said.
Thus, she turned and sat on her seat. She crossed her legs again and brought out a new cigar from its pack in her chest pocket.
“Take him away!” she commanded.
“Take him to the electric room. He needs to be taught a good lesson!” she waved her hand, and I saw how the glass wall changed back into a colored wall.
Suddenly, the two jailers who brought me to this bathroom barged into the room. They grabbed me like police guarding a criminal they wanted to arrest.
They smacked me to the wall and hit my head on the wall.
One jailer pressed my head firmly to the wall, and the other cuffed me. They took me out of the room and pushed me forward.
“Do anything funny, and you are dead!” one of the jailers said, his voice strict like he was not going to think twice before he did what he said if I provoked his anger.
Before I knew it, we had walked past three corridors, past the private cell I was usually thrown in at night, and we were in a confined room.
There was no window here. The wall was even different. It looked like unpainted brick. The floor was not at all tiled or designed with marble. It was built with broken stones that, if anyone was not wearing shoes, it was going to sting.
There was a giant machine at the front of the center wall. This machine looked nothing like anything I had seen in my life.
It had a chair in the middle of it. A chair that was built with iron. And by the right and left side, there was a long iron that looked like the hand of a robot.
On the right side of the wall was a desktop computer on a desk. A desktop that looked like it was the first series of desktops ever built.
My heart sank seeing this, I feared being ordered to go near it.
“Take off your shoes!” the jailer ordered.
“And your jumpsuit!” the second jailer added.
After the other time when I was instructed to take off my suit, they returned it for me to wear after they discovered a spoon in my jumpsuit.
And now they asked me to take it off again?
I complied quickly. I needed not to be taught a lesson before I knew they were serious and that they were ready to treat my fuck-up if I delayed or disobeyed.
“Walk!” the jailer on the right instructed now. And hence, with my naked body and barefoot, I walked.
“Ah!” I exclaimed in sharp pain as my feet pierced because of the hard stones I was walking on.
“Sit,” the same jailer ordered again. And with this, my heart began to race rapidly.
I took a second before I sat on the iron chair. Immediately I sat, they grabbed me immediately like their life depended on it and fastened me to the seat with an iron belt.
I could no longer move.
In the same manner, they fastened my legs to the legs of the seat. I could no longer see my legs.
“You know how to kill, huh?!” the jailer asked.
There was such an irritation in his eyes. He smirked at this instance. Hence, his expression spoke a lot of volumes.
As if he was not done, he leaned toward me. “You will feel how it feels to take a life,” he whispered.
Then he walked right to the desktop at the right side of the wall. “Get away from there, Rosco,” he said, and his second took three steps away.
“Do not heighten the volume, we were told to teach him a lesson, not to take his life,” the jailer said to him.
However, “Taking his life is a much better lesson. The one he does not come back to harm more people,” he hissed.
“This is for my sister. Rio’s girlfriend that you motherfucking ordered to be killed!” he spat, and hence, he angrily turned on the desktop and heightened the volume of the electricity in the chair.
As the electricity surged through my body, an unbearable pain tore through me, searing my nerves and shaking my bones. My muscles convulsed, my breath choked in my throat, and in those final moments, my mind drifted—not to survival, but to regret.
Rebecca.
I saw her face—the pain in her eyes the day I betrayed her. The way she looked at me, catching me with another woman, but I had only responded with indifference. I never understood the weight of what I had done, the depth of the wounds I inflicted. Worse, I had even tried to take her life—all for my own selfish reasons.
And now, as my body writhed against the restraints, the regret cut deeper than the pain. The truth hurt the most: my life was being taken, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
If I could go back, I would change everything. I would undo the pain I caused her. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be here. Maybe then, my life wouldn’t have led to this—this agony, this fate, this death.
A sob tried to escape my lips, but the electricity swallowed it whole. My vision blurred, my thoughts slowed, and as the last violent jolt tore through my body, one final, bitter realization settled in.
This was what I deserved.
And then—nothing.