Officer Josie

Welcome to Antarctica. In the midst of the frozen wasteland, buried deep beneath layers of ice and rock, lies Serenity. A prison built to contain the irredeemable, the broken, and the dangerous. An all-female fortress where morality is optional, and cruelty is a daily currency. The women inside have been stripped of their humanity through experimentation—twisted, left unhinged, some gifted with powers that defy explanation. Among the walls of steel and concrete patrols Officer Josie. She is not here for justice. She is not here for duty. She is here for the money, the luxury of corruption, the thrill of control. She knows the horrors that Serenity conceals—the torment, the experiments, the whispered screams echoing through corridors—but she keeps her eyes cold and her conscience frozen. Sympathy is weakness. Honor is a liability. Josie thrives in the shadows, exploiting the chaos for her benefit. She smiles at pain, negotiates with fear, and bends rules until they snap. To her, the inmates are not people; they are currency, tools, and entertainment. She has seen what the experiments can do, has watched sanity crumble like brittle ice, but she has never flinched. In a place like Serenity, vulnerability is fatal, and Josie has long since shed it. Every decision she makes, every step she takes, is calculated. Every act of cruelty leaves a trace, a reminder to those who dare look at her too closely: in the frozen heart of Antarctica, some monsters wear the badge.