Escaping your past seemed to be more challenging than breaking out of a cell in a foreign land. Dragomir remembered being placed in a cell the size of a quarter of a service lift. With his size, he had to stay in a crouched position for days, wetting and shitting himself.
By acting helpless, he managed to get himself back to the crowded jail cell. It posed its own problems, but there was more space. He had gotten himself into trouble there, too, getting into riots. Starting some of them.
When he displayed his strength, his jailers became interested in him. Far too interested. When they took him out of the steamy, packed jail cell, Dragomir was wary. He had the right to be.
Months after that, he escaped. He no longer wanted to think about it. He might have escaped, but the memories li
