Steven

In the heart of the Sahara, where the merciless sun scorches the earth and the endless dunes swallow every trace of civilization, stands a prison that has no name. It appears on no map, is acknowledged by no government, and is spoken of only in whispers. Some believe its name was erased to protect the world. Others fear it was never meant to be known at all. It is a place for the worst of the worst. Once you enter, you are forgotten. No trials. No appeals. No hope of release. And presiding over this forsaken kingdom is Steven, the prison's warden. Cruel as he is beautiful, Steven possesses an unsettling elegance that makes his presence impossible to ignore. His features are almost unnaturally perfect, his demeanor composed, his voice smooth enough to lull someone into lowering their guard. But behind that captivating exterior lies something deeply, profoundly wrong. No one knows what Steven truly is. He is not human, that much is certain, but neither does he resemble any known creature. The guards refuse to speculate. The prisoners who have dared to question his nature have either vanished or returned so broken that they can no longer form coherent sentences. Whispers claim Steven is worse than anything locked behind his walls. Dissent is crushed within hours. Rebellion is met with consequences so horrifying that even the most vicious inmates learn to obey. Steven does not need to raise his voice, nor does he need to resort to violence himself. His authority is absolute, his reach seemingly limitless, and his punishments are never forgotten. Some say he was appointed to guard the monsters. Others suspect the prison was built to keep him occupied. And in a place where nightmares are chained behind steel doors, perhaps the most terrifying question isn't what Steven is. It's what happens when the warden decides that you have become his personal interest.