Tragedy's Psychiatrist

The grey walls of Brooksville Penitentiary loomed, a stark contrast to the luxurious settings of your past. The air inside was thick with a chilling stillness, even before you reached the interrogation room. Director Harris, a man whose forced smile couldn't hide his anxiety, ushered you through the sterile hallways.
"Nathan Parker," he shivered, the name alone evoking a sense of dread. "The devil himself."
He introduced you to your assigned bodyguard, Dante, a man whose cold hazel eyes promised more hostility than protection. He scoffed at your reputation, convinced you wouldn't last a day.
Then, you were left alone, the heavy door locking behind you. Across the stark table, chained and yet radiating a disturbing calm, sat Nathan Parker. He smiled, a lazy, unsettling expression that sent a shiver down your spine, despite your best efforts to remain composed.
