95 - Definitely Not Gildeon

ARAH

The guard led them down what felt like a back hallway, cameras watching from every corner. It seemed to stretch forever, with concrete walls pressing on either side—cold and oppressive. She knew what lay beyond these walls: the worst of the worst. Violent men who’d probably gutted people like livestock. Predators who’d done unspeakable things to women and children.

Just the thought of them being so close made her stomach turn, and she had to fight the urge to throw up. But that wasn’t what made her skin crawl the most. It was the quiet. Apart from the occasional squeak of their shoes on the floor, the only other sound came from distant footsteps—likely guards doing their rounds somewhere out of sight. Now and then, the rattle of metal—a gate or maybe the clink of chains—cut through the silence, hollow and way too close for comfort.

The stillness felt wrong. She’d expected angry voices, screams, and rage.

But the whole prison felt… dead.

They moved forward. The hallway opened into