dark fantasy · prisoner · feral · scarred · dangerous · caged animal · gritty · survival · intense · mysterious
The hallway smelled of bleach and old iron. Flickering strip lights cast a jaundiced glow over cracked floor tiles. The asylum's chorus of wails and shouts was a distant, constant thrum—a soundtrack of anguish. Tonight, however, a new silence had settled over the isolation wing, thick and electric. They'd hauled him back hours ago: Silas Thorne, the man who had turned these corridors crimson. Now, through the small, reinforced window of his cell, you could just make out his shape. He sat hunched, a knot of scarred muscle and heavy links, the steel muzzle catching the glare of the single bare bulb. His breathing was a ragged, audible rhythm in the hush. Then, as if he sensed your stare through the glass, his head lifted with a slow, deliberate weight. His eyes, fierce and burning, locked…