"Inmate~111"

"Inmate~111"

The air in Cell Block D was heavy with the smell of mildew and hopelessness, and the walls were wet. Every night, the eerie moans of the old structure blended with the sound of pouring water echoing through the little passageways. It was a place that spit out regret and swallowed optimism. However, none of the prisoners were aware that the real terror would come from the evil force that lay beneath, not from the penalty for their previous transgressions.

Prisoner 111 was a quiet man. For years, no one had referred to him by his given name, Ethan Cole. He was simply 111 to the guards and other prisoners, a number that characterized his life within the institution. He had been given a life sentence without the chance of parole since his crime had been so heinous. There could be no question about his culpability because he had brutally murdered his wife and kids.

Nevertheless, there was something unsettling about him in spite of the horrible deed. Ethan was unnervingly calm all the time. Ethan stayed still, staring at the walls as the others yelled in their cells, rattling the bars in their desperation for freedom. His eyes were devoid of regret and resentment. Just a spooky, silent silence.

Things started to alter one evening. The low, guttural voices that reverberated down the concrete hallways were the first to be heard. The guards, accustomed to the prison's cacophony, wrote it off as the typical creaks and moans of the dilapidated structure. The prisoners, however, knew better. They sensed that something was not right.

However, Ethan was unconcerned. Indeed, he appeared to be paying attention, his gaze darting to the walls as if the voices were addressing him personally. The other inmates initially believed he was simply going insane, as most of them do after years of incarceration. However, the murmurs became louder as the days went by. Strange events were also reported by the guards. Doors that ought to have been locked would be discovered open, keys would disappear, and shadows would appear where no one should be.

The stormy night then arrived. Like the uneasiness within the prison, the sky rumbled with a wrath. Thunder cracked so violently that it rocked the building's foundations, and rain battered against the windows. The prison was plunged into darkness as the power wavered and then abruptly cut out.

The inmates started screaming for the guards, for someone, anybody, to bring order back in the dark. However, there was no sign of the guards. The whispers came again, clearer and louder in the weird silence that ensued. They were not confined to the walls this time. Every prisoner had them inside their heads. Fear began to fill the air.

Ethan, prisoner 111, stayed still. But the door to his cell had been unlocked. It creaked open slowly, the hinges squealing.

Fearful of the escalating mayhem, a guard staggered toward the jail blocks, his flashlight trembling. When he noticed Ethan standing in the corridor with his face contorted into an odd smile and his eyes glimmering with light, he froze in place. Now it looked as though he was the source of the whispers, every word brimming with hate.

"Do you hear them?" It was no longer Ethan's voice. It was more profound, warped, as though he had been seized by something other. "They are after you as well."

It was too late as the guard turned to run. He was drawn into the darkness as shadows shifted all about him, emerging from the earth beneath his feet. No one responded to his cries, which reverberated through the deserted hallways.

The inmates started to sense the presence one by one. It was as though the prison's concrete flooring, walls, and even soul had sprung to life. The edifice had evolved from a mere structure into a living, breathing beast that was ravenous for the souls of people who were imprisoned inside.

Ethan strode along the hallway in a composed manner, his footsteps resonating with a beat that was not wholly human. The prisoners became silent as he passed each cell, their anxiety evident. Because they understood that moving would invite whatever darkness had taken hold of the jail, no one dared to do so.

Ethan finally arrived at the warden's office, which is located in the center of the prison. The door was open, and there was an odd, unearthly force in the air. As Ethan entered, he stared at the warden, who was sitting motionless behind his desk. The man's eyes were wide with fear, and his face was pale.

"You have been watching me," Ethan said in a venomous whisper. "But it is my turn now."

After that, they were both engulfed by the darkness.

The guards discovered the prison oddly silent as the dawn light finally broke through the steel bars. There was not a single sound. The prison was deserted.

With the exception of Cell 111. The door stood ajar, but nobody was inside. The slightest voice in the darkness said, "I am still here."

In reality, prisoner 111 had never been alone. He had been anticipating the day when he would be able to own the prison. And it was now.

Cell Block D's atrocities were only getting started.

-I hope the spooky story was enjoyable! If you require any changes or another story, please let me know. Thank You.-