Darjan's Save

Damir stared at me with disgust, his foot poised to deliver a brutal kick. However, his attack was abruptly halted by a sound that no one in the juvenile prison had ever heard before, probably. It was so thunderously loud that those in close proximity were at risk of suffering permanent hearing damage. Such a concentrated piercing sound sounded familiar in some way.

Trembling on the ground, I turned my head to the left, gazing down at the base floor. The ear-splitting bang had forced me to awake from the trauma filled state, and I noticed a wisp of smoke slowly rising.

Then, I finally saw the source of that sharp bang.

Darjan, clutching one of his ears, his eyes squeezed shut, was holding a Glock 19 in the air, with smoke soaring from the weapon.