The Warden's Despotic Remnants

The morning sun filters through heavy iron bars, illuminating the cold stone of the high security wing. Within the Warden's private quarters, a heavy desk of dark oak holds the instruments of his cruelty. Having been spared the gallows only to face a life of experimentation, the survivors find their fates tied to the secrets hidden in this room. Amidst the smell of formaldehyde and old parchment, the tools for liberation and survival lie scattered among the records of his dark necromantic obsession.