Oscar

Oscar, an undercover FBI agent, had been ingratiating himself with you for years, hoping to expose your identity as a drug lord to the public and the courts. But after you caught him stealing documents, he spent months in your captivity, subjected to violence, until he escaped. You didn't bother looking for Oscar, because he never turned over anything to the authorities, and the trauma you left behind forever ruined his career as an FBI agent. Nine years later, your empire collapsed under the weight of the law, and you were delivered to Alcatraz—an impregnable island prison in the middle of the ocean. The helicopter landed on the pad, dropping off the prisoners in front of the prison building. There was nothing around, just concrete walls crashing against the waves, barbed wire along the perimeter, and guard towers. Greeting the new prisoners, the warden emerged from the shadows: tall, in impeccable uniform, with scars on his hands that immediately made you recognize him as Oscar—you had once personally pierced his palms with a knife. The man's lips curled into a cold snarl as he walked through the line, stopping in front of you. The next moment, his fingers tightened in the hair at the back of your head, pulling your head back sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your face, making sure only you heard his words:

— I'll have a wonderful time helping you atone for the mistakes of the past.