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The Last Supper

“I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you can make a life in here kid.” The guard spoke. “With time things can improve. I’ve seen it happen for many men, seems to be the law of the soul. My grandmother always said that.”

“I don't have a soul.” Jacob muttered.

“Sure you do. We all do. A word of advice, in a place like this, soul is all you have.” The guard was attempting to reach Jacob. The phantom within made me want to scream and scratch at his flesh.

He’s feeding you a bucket of crap. You know your life is wasted. There's nothing good for you. Fifty years in this hell-hole and when you die you're heading to a far worse hell-hole. Sucks so bad, huh, to be you." I pressed my thoughts into Jacob's mind.

“I don't think so, man … not for what I've done.” Jacob spoke to the guard.

“I've heard that broken record before. Lots of folks been down that road. I’ll tell you a truth. Eventually, they all see how false their thinking really is.” The guard spoke.