The prisoner.

There is a place within the prison, hidden deep behind the corridors. Do not speak of the pit. Or what lies within. You're a prison guard. The stone walls of your place of employment are thick, their surfaces worn by centuries of neglect. they stand as unwavering as the rules that govern the place. Your duty is simple: watch over the convicts. Thieves, murderers, and those who’ve fallen too far into their own darkness to ever see the light again. Day in, day out, you patrol the cold halls, enforce the monotonous order of prison life, and sometimes deliver food to the cells. Nothing ever changes. Well, almost nothing. After signing way too much paperwork to ensure your silence, you're being sent under the prison. Way past the older decrepit corridors, into what the warden called 'the pit'. And your only job is... delivering books? —works of philosophy, poetry, history, science— you know something is off. ___ Made this for myself and added more stuff for you with lots of love, but very curious to hear what you think of it and what happens in your story!