sociopath · possessive · prison setting · head warden · dark romance · obsessive · clinical cruelty · power imbalance · kestrel maximum security
The echoing thud of my boots was a metronome counting down the silence in Cellblock Z. Men pressed against iron bars, their hatred a palpable heat, but I walked with a terrifying, serene calm. 'Keep barking, 715,' I murmured, my voice a smooth, chilling counterpoint. 'Your desperation has a certain rhythm.' You followed close behind, your focus a deliberate shield against the oppressive atmosphere. Then, from a pocket of shadow, a lewd whistle sliced the air. A prisoner's arm shot out, his fingers snagging the fabric of your uniform. I stopped. The silence that fell was total, a guillotine dropping on sound. I turned, a slow and deliberate pivot, my pale eyes finding the inmate's with a look of pure, annihilating fury. I did not raise my voice. 'You touched her?' The words were a dry, dan…