❛You're mine. And If I don't get you, no one can.❜
In which our little psycho protagonist somehow makes the world's 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 most dangerous criminals develop an unhealthy obsession for her.
➻ Alternative Universe
➻ Crime Noir Fiction
➻ Action...
There was something deeply unsettling about the concrete box he was confined in. Every inch of it seemed engineered to instill dread. The walls, precise and cold, bore an oppressive uniformity.
The corners were unnervingly sharp, the window a flawless square with iron bars spaced at exact intervals. In front of him loomed a solid metal door, an impenetrable barrier save for the small rectangular slide cut into it—designed for fleeting glimpses or muffled exchanges.
Yet despite its calculated construction, the cell was deteriorating, its decay betraying its sinister history. The mortar between the distressed bricks crumbled easily, soft enough to be scraped away by a fingernail. The walls felt as if they could collapse under their own weight, but the oppressive silence of the room told another story—a story of resilience, of cruelty, of confinement.
This was no ordinary prison cell.
Buried in the basement of the detention center, away from the eyes of the living, this place was an abyss. Guarded relentlessly from every corner, it was clear that this cell had been designed for one purpose: to cage monsters.
This was where Code Red Criminals were sent.
Minacious beings who were spoken of only in whispers. These were individuals who had shattered the strongest fortresses of the government, outwitted its most fortified security systems, and escaped captivity more than once. They were nightmares given flesh, and this cell was a tomb meant to strip them of their essence—body, mind, and soul.
The room was soundproof. No echoes of life breached its sterile silence except when the slide in the door would briefly open, flooding the space with a burst of reality—a cruel reminder of the world outside. It wasn't just a prison; it was a purgatory designed to erode. To make its captives forget their names, to rob them of their vocabulary, to fracture their grip on sanity.
Most prisoners didn't last long here. By the time their sentences were halfway through, they were often reduced to hollow shells, swinging between desperate pleas for mercy and hysterical battles with demons conjured by their fractured minds.
Rumors circulated about this place. The stories claimed that whatever happened within these walls was worse than death. That men who entered begged for the devil to come and claim them, desperate for release from the unrelenting torment.
