Patrick (Part 8) MY ESCAPE
Twenty-four hours. That’s all I have before they strap me to that table and end me. But before the state kills me, I’m taking Santos with me. He took Maria from me—slow, cruel, and smiling. Now I’ll return the favor. The prison thinks it’s impenetrable, but every system has a crack. And in my final day, I’ll bleed it dry. This isn’t escape. This is vengeance.The clock ticks in my skull—twenty-three hours now. They think I’m broken, curled up in this cell, waiting for the needle. But I’ve been planning this since the verdict. Maria’s face flashes behind my eyes every time I blink. Santos killed her. Laughed while doing it. And he’s sleeping three blocks away, guarded like a god.
I need his blood on my hands. Not tomorrow. Tonight. The only way in is through the blind spot in the east corridor—Guard Rourke’s shift ends at 18:00, and he always takes an extra five minutes in the break room. That’s my window.
I fake a seizure. Convulsing hard enough to make the cameras twitch. When they come, I go limp. One guard checks my pulse. Too close. I snap his wrist, silence him with a choke, take the ring of keys from his belt. The master key gleams under the fluorescent light.
Now the real hunt begins.
King Patrick
works: 56
Daughter Of Sacrifice
I never thought it would come to this. My daughter—barely nineteen—sold her body night after night just to keep the collectors off our door. The debts weren’t hers. They were my parents’, left behind when they died drowning in medical bills. But she stepped into the fire without flinching. Now I’m staring at bank statements and silence, wondering how I failed her so completely—and what I’m willing to do to make it right.
Soul Play
I sold my soul for a Stratocaster and a spotlight. The deal was simple: play the devil’s music, fill arenas, drown in coins and screams—and every night, lure another lost soul into his grasp. I didn’t think I’d still feel their weight in my chest. Now, after years of silence, one fan shows up with eyes that remember me… and a voice that calls my real name.
Level Up
I was just some guy grinding levels on my couch—until the screen cracked, the room vanished, and I woke up *inside* the game. Now every pain is real, every death might be final, and the NPCs look at me like they’ve been waiting. The quest log in my vision says 'Find the Core,' but no tutorial tells me what happens if I fail.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.