Another Day Part 1
It’s late at night after the shift, and I’ve just returned to my quarters.
I share the room with a few other guards—no surprise, that’s standard here.
We greeted each other, but I haven’t really tried to make friends, so everyone’s in their own corner, lying quietly on their bunks. The lights are off, and now I’m on mine, staring at the ceiling.
Now that the day is over, my mind drifts back to everything that’s happened these past few days.
Even though I left Mia and the kids behind, I already miss them. I keep wondering if I made the right choice, leaving like that. Six months with no contact… that’s a long time.
I hope they’re doing okay.
At least now they don’t have to worry about money. Mia can finally do proper grocery shopping. Thom and Rico can attend school without stress. Rico won’t have to skip his meds anymore. Karla can start school next year, and maybe I can finally buy her toys and crayons to play with.
At least… I hope it’s enough.
I have three kids—and one still cooking in the oven.
Life’s tiresome and unpredictable.
Thom and Rico aren’t actually my kids; they’re my brothers. Our father died in a car accident not long after Rico was born. Mom had been sick for years and passed away two years ago, so I took them both in. We didn’t have any other family to turn to. Just me.
I was devastated when she died, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry. The boys were watching, and I had to be the strong older brother. To this day, I still ask myself what she would’ve done. Did I make the right choices? Did I do enough to get us here?
Now, somehow, I’ve ended up in a prison at the bottom of the ocean. My only job is to be a guard.
Not a bad deal, at least on paper—the pay’s good—but this place… it’s
wrong.
I’ve seen a lot in the military, but nothing as unsettling as this.
Even when I’m just thinking to myself, it feels like the walls are listening.
The prisoners’ blank, eerie stares. The older guards’ hollow eyes—like their souls are being drained bit by bit.
Something’s off here. Deeply off.
But I can’t complain. I just need to push through and make it home in one piece.
I just hope… I live to see the birth of my child.
Another Day Part 2
It’s been a week since we arrived at this place.
Right now, I’m doing my rounds. I’m in one of the chambers where they’ve installed artificial sunlight — UV lights that supposedly help prevent the prisoners from getting weak bones or something. I’m not a scientist, but it feels like I’m walking through a giant tanning salon for the damned.
I’ve also gotten used to the suit we wear. It still feels like some weird diving suit, but at least I don’t have to wear it in the quarters or cafeteria. That’s a small mercy.
I knew this place housed criminals from around the world, but some of the inmates here… they’re people I thought were urban legends. There’s a guy who poisoned an entire town’s water supply because he
didn’t like the smell
of it. Crazy bastard.
Everyone here’s doing life. But some are sentenced to death — and I’m guessing those are the ones who “disappear.” Even though I’ve only been here a week, I’ve already seen a few vanish without much explanation. After checking their files, it’s clear they were on death row. Still, why go through all this trouble to bring them here, all the way down under the ocean, just to execute them later? Wouldn’t it be easier to do it on land?
Then again… maybe I shouldn’t ask too many questions. Best to just do my job quietly.
The G.U.A.R.D. is still as creepy as ever. I’ve gotten used to its sudden appearances and that distorted voice of its, but I still hope I never have to talk to it directly. Most guards seem to feel the same way — you can see it in their eyes when it’s around.
At least it’s peaceful here, in its own twisted way.
The group I’m monitoring is wrapping up their recreational time. The drones hover above, watching every movement, while we guide the prisoners with voice commands. They move like zombies — mechanical, lifeless. Then one refuses to move.
Another guard steps in, telling him to comply. A moment later, the prisoner convulses violently and collapses. The restraints around his body spark and hum — an electric discharge. He’s dragged across the floor like a rag doll, his body twitching from residual current.
No one flinches. No one feels pity. After all, they’re criminals — monsters, according to the files. But watching them shuffle like hollow shells makes me wonder what they’re doing to their minds during those isolation cycles.
Still… it’s not my place to ask.
Some things are better left unseen — and unheard.