As one of them spoke, a short-haired woman cracked her knuckles and stepped toward me. My heart dropped. I backed away, but another grabbed my hair and slammed me to the ground before I could escape. Fists and kicks rained down on me. Each blow sent sharp waves of pain through my body.
I tried to fight back, but my old injuries hadn’t healed yet. I was too weak to defend myself. All I could do was curl up and endure it silently as they vented their anger on me.
They didn’t stop until a guard’s voice shouted from outside the bars, "Enough! Stop right now!"
Finally, the women backed away.
I was lying motionless on the cold floor. My body was covered in blood and bruises. Slowly, I lost my consciousness. My back was torn open again, old wounds mingling with fresh ones. Every move felt like my bones were shattering from the inside.
After a long while, the cell door creaked open. After that, I was dragged out. Their laughter echoed in my ears as they mocked me openly. But I didn’t even have the strength to respond.