#Chapter 80: Morbid

Logan It took me days before I finally visited him. Even then, I did so hesitantly, more out of morbid curiosity than anything. The scent of blood hit me before I even stepped into the cell. It was everywhere, filling my nose with its metallic scent on each breath and hanging thickly like a fog. An overall damp heaviness clung to the stone walls like a second skin, thick with a combination of copper, sweat, and urine. The halls were dimly lit, and when I finally entered his cell, it took my eyes a moment to adjust from the near-total blackness of the space. Eventually, I was able to make out my surroundings enough to notice that Jesse sat slumped in the chair at the center of the room, his arms tied behind his back. One eye was swollen shut, purple and painful to even witness. His lip was split, and his nose must’ve broken as well, as it sat at an unnatural angle. We would no longer share that feature, it seemed. Even hours after his last round of interrogations, he wa