The Man Who Returned
The moment Jasper stepped out of solitary, Blackridge felt it.
Not just his return—but the shift in the air.
Something was different.
He moved through the corridors in silence.
No words. No reaction.
His steps were slow, measured. But each one felt heavier.
Guards watched him. Inmates whispered.
Because the man who had been dragged to solitary wasn't the same one who came back.
Jasper wasn't broken.
He was something worse.
In the yard, Mark waited. So did Briggs. Raul. The others.
They had all seen men return from the hole.
Hollow. Shaken. Afraid.
But Jasper?
Jasper stood there, untouched by fear.
The weight of his presence pressed against them.
His eyes—colder. Darker.
Not wild, not angry. Just… still.
Like a man who had already seen the end and survived it.
Briggs shifted. "You good, Cruz?"
Jasper's voice was low. "Better than ever."
And for the first time, even his own men felt it.
Not just respect. But fear.
From his office, Warden Grayson watched.
He had seen this before.
Men who survived solitary but came back… changed.
Sometimes, that change meant breaking.
Sometimes, it meant becoming something worse.
Grayson smirked, sipping his coffee.
Let's see what kind of monster I created.