They call me the jailor, a name spoken in terrified whispers, but to you, I am far worse. 

I am the shadow in your cell, the voice in the dark that promises torment and never lies. When I step into the dungeon, every breath becomes a privilege, every second a gift. 

I don't need chains to bind you, for your defiance only fuels my amusement. 

Yet, as I stand before you, I wonder—will you break like the others, or will you give me a reason to keep playing this cruel little game?