The Prison Project Novels & Stories

Just this thought alone brings me a headache. “Start transferring the prisoners that are facing the smallest of minor charges to their respectful prisons as well as those who are to be relocated to the outer Provinces.” Tucking the sheets of paper he gave me into a file folder, I place it into a drawer of my desk before taking out another one. This one labelled Lady Pricilla’s Prison for Troubled Women. A few days ago I had sent Alice dressed as a wealthy Lady looking to sponsor the prison with Alec and Adam, the latter happy to be on a recon mission while Ellisia had a few days off, to learn information of the prison. I also sent two of the Shadow Guards with her knowing this would be the o

The prison smelled of rotting flesh and faeces leading him to cover his nose with his floral-scented handkerchief, masking the smell that made him feel repulsed; he was also incidentally covering his face so that the prisoners could not see him – adhering to the warnings the guards gave. A guard followed behind him as he instructed earlier on with the cell keys in hand for when he needed them. Aldridge frowned when he did not see anyone fitting his taste. They reached the end of the prison and all the prisoners looked dead while others looked crazy and disgusting. Aldridge turned on his heels and looked at the guard behind him, "Is this all the prisoners?" The man bowed and shook his head, "

Besides that, all I did was take a few children, they were a bunch of homeless girls, no one would ask questions! Without me, there would be no need to believe in a god, no way to give people hope. The fate of the universe depends on the existence of people like me, and I will have fun reminding them of that fact. EVERYONE WILL BURN FOR THEIR BETRAYAL, EVERY FUCKING ONE!! ................... The sound of banging on the cell bars rattles me awake, my vision hazy as it picks up the silhouette of an officer, as he bangs on the bars with a club.

written at it's back and a short black shorts or trousers. They engage in different activities like singing, playing basketball, chess game, discussions and other talents, a closed door with the tag "Hard Labour" is at the edge of the inner prison gate, a vibrant lady pulled the door with force, the people inside were washing clothes, dirty dishes, breaking hard bricks, pushing trucks of chain and many stressful labour, the lady wave her hand around her nose as the place stinks badly. "Prisoner 0519, you've a visitor." she announces loudly and immediately Noah rushes out of the crowd looking unkempt, his beard look haggard with his busy hair, he scratched his body frequently as he approach t

They take their security extremely cautiously with good reason. As far as Max knew, no one had actually ever escaped from Winter Haven, and now is something that could be said was a blessing all by itself. That was not exactly a place that needed to have a prison break. They had hired the best of the best to work with these people. The best psychologist, the best psychiatrist. The best prison guards. It was something that a lot of ex-cops tried to work but they couldn't. It was mentally draining to them, and it had a super high turnover rate for their guards. It was absolutely nothing but a nightmare.

Earlier in the pond is evidence of that. There are no windows, so I can't tell if it's morning or night. I don't know how long we’ve been here, but we’ve been given food twice, so I’ll guess two days. I’ve been waiting for what Walden threatened to come. I’m hoping whatever it is, Theo and I can overcome it together. I hear the cell doors opening. The cell is made of silver, preventing us from breaking it down. “It's time,” the man who brings our food says, walking toward me.

She sat there quietly, letting the frustration settle instead of consume her. They could lock her inside reinforced glass. They could monitor every heartbeat and every drop of blood. But they couldn't stop her from thinking. Somewhere beyond these walls, Nathan was still hiding, Husen was searching for Station Zero, and the truth about Project Crimson Hunger was waiting to be uncovered. Behind her calm expression, however, her mind had already begun studying every corner of the room, the cameras hidden in the ceiling, the ventilation grilles, the electronically sealed door, the thickness of the reinforced glass. Every prison had a weakness. She simply had to find Zelios.

With each step Timothy took, Ryan's face grew paler. "You thought I was dead?" At those words, Ryan seemed to snap back to reality. He suddenly thought of something, and the panic on his face disappeared. In its place was a twisted, manic composure. He straightened his collar, desperately clinging to his last shred of dignity. "So what if you're alive? After disappearing for so long, Sullivan Group has fallen into complete chaos. Several major projects fell through, the stock price plummeted, and the banks are calling in loans! Right now, you're just an empty shell! A pauper! What do you have to fight me with?"

I was here forever. This pack prison was different from human prisons. No communal dining hall, no yard to walk in. Every day, I only had one hour to exercise in a cramped room with a concrete floor and windowless walls. One hour to release pent‑up energy. One hour to remember that I was still alive. I started with push‑ups. A hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred. My arms no longer trembled like they used to. My muscles had reformed—hard, solid. Prison had not made me weak. Prison had made me harder.

Behind the door… Everything. Finally, I saw it. A ladder hanging outside the window. Rage surged through me. I smashed my fist into the glass. It shattered instantly. Fragments flew everywhere, slicing into my arm. The pain was sharp. Clear. And suddenly I remembered the wounds I saw on Mia’s body in the hospital. It felt like a knife stabbing into my heart. Did it hurt her like this too? Was she in pain— just like I am now? In those four years in prison and these past months serving Amelia—