My right foot was on fire.
But Jack was in the heat.
He wanted to lick my feet.
I refused him and asked him to do sothing.
I shouldn't have asked that.
Because he really did sothing.
With no warning, no foreshadowing…
He stripped his pants in front of .
I saw everything of him once again.
Honestly, I've seen more nudity here than I ever did browsing late-night Earth internet. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm in a fantasy world or a cursed OnlyFans dinsion.
I asked Jack why he dropped his pants like an actor practicing thod acting before a sex scene.
He said that he thought I would like to see his inner workings again.
He said that my face scread that I needed a pounding so hard that I forgot I was ever gay.
I yelled that I was never gay and then with a smile, Jack said:
"Exactly."
I would have killed him right there and then if not for him being already dead and also for not being on fire right now!
The burning guard was far from now because of my kick but his essence was on my feet like I stepped on sothing slippery on his bathroom's floor and it was smoking hot.
"Go to hell, Jack! Wear your pants and tell the way—"
I paused.
Not because I forgot what to say but because…
"Shit. I can't take this anymore. My foot's turning into a crispy taco! Call a Priest! Call Gordon Ramsey! Call my grandma!"
Jack rolled up his pants and hurriedly looked left and right.
"I don't know a priest. I don't know who the hell Gordon Ramsey is. And even if I call your grandmother, what should I say to her?"
"You little shit!" I clenched my jaw. "Tell her I love her toes, 'Cause I am losing Mine!'"
Jack's eyes widened.
"You love toes too? And you were judging for wanting to lick yours? That's not how friendship works. That's not how you treat your bestfriend!"
"You are not my best friend, bitch! You just hopped onto like the ghost you are!"
"The mont you saw my stick and I saw yours, we were best friends. What other proof do you want?"
"You bast—"
I paused again.
This ti, the pain broke all bounds.
The fire was increasing.
Oh, how should I tell this?
Pain shot up my leg like lightning with a grudge. My foot wasn't just on fire—it was becoming fire. Blisters blood like evil flowers. Flesh hissed. I could hear the sickening sizzle of my own at cooking, and for a split second, I wondered if I slled... barbecue.
And the pain didn't just burn—it scread. Every cell in my body was doing the Macarena out of pure agony, and my toes were curling like overcooked shrimp in protest.
At that mont, I made up my mind.
"Jack, hate if you want. But I am going all in. Fuck the promises."
Before Jack could say sothing or even understand what I ant by those words, I leaped.
I jumped right between the chaos of the burning guards like a woman driving a car on a bustling road.
I left Jack behind. I hopped only on one leg like a woman after taking two BBCs and I felt now I had the power of Hercules in my veins.
I swung Jack's dead body all around , throwing off the running around guards hovering in my radius like single won in my area while I surfed the internet.
No one ca close to and Jack's dead body swung like a baby in a pregnant woman's womb during sex.
I heard Jack's screams coming from behind but no words thrusted on my ears. I was possessed.
I saw the magic of Adrenaline first hand as Jack's dead body felt light like a feather, like a woman feels after abortion.
I hopped forward continuously, keeping the burning foot away from my whole body so it didn't catch any other parts.
But the blue pyjamas I wore had caught fire too and before it could engulf my whole body or before it burned fully making my debut in the exhibitionism genre just like Jack wanted, I had to leave this corridor and find water as soon as possible.
Jack's dead body's face was on fire now.
His legs were on fire now. The prosthetic one too.
But I couldn't care less about it.
I just wanted to leave the corridor and walk straight on the path the sa way a woman walks behind her billionaire husband.
I would reach Johnson's cabin and there must be water.
Run, Racis, Run.
My eyes danced around like a stripper desperate for tips—of both kinds, taking in the surroundings and any guard who ca even five feet near .
As I hopped forward, I finally noticed.
A path.
An alley on my right at the end of this dimly lit corridor.
I bead like a fat woman beams after seeing a chicken walking towards her kitchen on its own.
Yes. I would turn there.
It's very close.
I could almost touch it.
"PAL!"
Shit.
Jack arrived beside , floating and fuming.
His eyes went to his dead body and when he saw it, he clutched his head like he saw a woman claiming she was smart while using a torch to find a torch.
"You put my whole goddamn body on fire just because of your one fiery feet! What is wrong with you?" He roared and honestly? Valid.
"I can explain, Jack. I didn't do it on purpose—"
A guard ca near from the left.
"Take this!"
I swung Jack's dead body as it kicked the burning guard away.
Jack saw that.
"Don't do this in front of , at least! I am right here!"
"Believe , Jack. I am really sorry for doing all this. I am full of guilt while doing this."
I saw one more guard.
"Take this!"
One more swing of Jack's body and boom, the guard was pushed back. Though, he was already kinda far away from but I still attacked him as I didn't want him to co closer. Precaution is better than abortion.
But I forgot… Jack was still here.
"Why the fuck did you do that for? He wasn't even close to you! You have no guilt inside you at all!"
"I have it inside , alright!" I retorted. "I always take it inside . It grows up with . It stays in my womb. I am a man with a great depth when it cos to taking in sothing inside . I am a man with the best dump truck!"
…
Jack blinked.
My words ca out the way I never wanted and they made their addition to my top 100 things I said and regretted list.
The ghost stayed silent, staring at —like a teacher who was just asked what's the past tense of the—Jack judged and then I rembered again why Jack was in the prison in the first place…
"Show the dump truck, pal. I got so heavy garbage too."
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