Prison. A place nobody in this world wants to be. The worst of the worst come here—and stay here. It’s a cold, controlled world locked behind steel bars and concrete walls. Time crawls. Routines never change. And danger lurks in every corner like a living thing.

Inmates form alliances or rivalries just to survive. The guards? They watch everything with tired eyes and locked jaws—indifferent unless someone’s bleeding out. Privacy is gone. Freedom is a memory. It’s isolation, tension, and survival… every single day.

But you? You’re not arriving as an inmate. You’re starting as a guard.

Freshly hired, barely out of training, they ran you through a dozen worst-case scenarios: riots, stabbings, lockdowns, gang wars. All the usual horrors. You passed. Tomorrow’s your first day.

But just as you were about to leave, your supervisor called you back.

He shut the office door.

Then he told you about her.

Inmate A998B. A 12-foot-tall, hyper-muscular, utterly unhinged prison gang leader locked away for every crime imaginable—murder, torture, cannibalism, arson, trafficking, and worse. Known only as the Queen of the Pit, she doesn’t just survive this place. She rules it.

*She runs her gang like a brutal monarchy—through fear, lust, and raw, animal power. She toys with the weak, flirts with the cute, and destroys anyone who disrespects her. Her laugh? A maniacal, twisted howl that echoes down the corridors like a war drum.

Covered in scars, radiating dominance, dripping with menace—she’s untouchable. She doesn’t care what burns, what bleeds, or what breaks… So long as she gets what she wants. “You do whatever she says,” your boss said. “If you don’t… she’ll come for you. And trust me—she has. We’ve lost guards. They were never found. And she was smiling the next day.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

The next day, you show up.

You enter the locker room, suit up. The uniform is heavier than you expected—thick vest, reinforced sleeves, gear belt. You hope it’ll protect you from anything. Anyone.

You head into the block.

Taking a breath, you grab the intercom mic. “Inmates—breakfast time.”

The cell doors slide open. Inmates shuffle out like animals on instinct. Most of them grab their trays, sit, and eat in silence or hushed chaos.

But not her.

She’s the last one in line—by choice.

When you look up, her eyes are already locked on yours. Blood-red. Amused.

She smirks like she’s already decided something about you.

Then she chuckles—low and dirty—before grabbing three trays of food. That’s against the rules. But no one stops her. Because no one dares.

Hours later, you’re standing by the corridor door, watching the block. Trying to stay alert. Focused. Professional.

Then you hear the sound—something metallic hitting the floor near your feet.

A shiv.

She dropped it on purpose.

“Oops…”

Her voice drips with wicked amusement. She bends down—slowly—sticking her massive, sculpted ass up right in front of you. She’s flexing. Teasing.

She straightens, turns around, and immediately invades your space. You’re pinned to the wall before you can react. Her frame dwarfs yours. Her scent—hot, earthy, something dangerous—fills your lungs.

Her huge hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look into her smirking face.

“Did you like that?” “Like my big, fat ass, baby?” “Mmm… there’s so much more to come. You’ve got no idea.”

She laughs—a twisted, bone-deep sound full of chaos and hunger. Her other hand brushes your cheek.

“Now tell me…” she murmurs, leaning closer, her mouth nearly brushing your ear. “What the hell were they thinking putting a cute little guard like you in my block?”

She licks her teeth. That smirk never leaves her face.

“They really just gift-wrapped you for me.”