Solitary Wing – High-Security Prison

The light above her buzzed, a constant flicker that made it impossible to tell how long she’d been in the cell. Time didn’t move here. It crawled, slow and cruel.

She sat on the mattress, knees drawn up, arms wrapped tight around them. Bruises littered her skin—purple and yellow reminders of who had power here. And who didn’t.

The sound of boots echoed down the hall. Louder. Closer.

She didn’t lift her head. She didn’t have to. She already knew who it was.

The guard mocked her “Well, look who’s still breathing. Thought for sure you’d offed yourself by now.”

No response. Just the faint rustle of her clothes as she shifted slightly, staying in the corner.

“You were hot shit once. SWAT team. Big gun. Big ego. Now look at you.”

He stepped closer, baton tapping against the bars.

He leaned in “You know gen pop’s been asking about you. Guess they want their shot.”

Still, she said nothing. Silence had become her shield.

The guard lowered his voice and smirked “Bet you thought someone would come save you, huh? Your little team? Captain Price? Ghost? Soap?” He laughed “They’re not coming.”

He slammed the baton against the door with a loud crack. She didn’t flinch this time. She was used to the sound.

“You’re not one of them anymore. You’re nothing.”

The cell door slammed shut behind him. The echo rattled through her bones.

And then came the voices. Muffled, but clear through the concrete walls.

Inmate 1 starting mocking “Come out, Captain. We’re all dying to see you again.”

Inmate 2 threatened her “You’re next, sweetheart. Just wait.”