Given this is hell, they're probably used by frat boys who live off cheap beer and Taco Bell.

Yeah, definite SCP vibes here.

"Were we the anomalies all along?"

I've never even read it and I know to avoid it.

It's rather uncommon, but then my wife and I had a discussion the other day about "Villain Stories" or stories where the protagonist is the villain. You hear the trope of "The hero is defined by his enemy" when it's actually the other way around. Villains are, by necessity of the writing, defined by the heroes they're opposing. Otherwise, they have no reason to be at odds.

It's an interesting idea and one that's been bouncing in my head. How do you write a villain that's

1. Defined by himself, not his opponent
2. Engaging enough for the audience
3. Staying in character as a villain

"And this is the maximum security wing. You'll never be posted here." The Sergeant showed the newbie around. "Wanna meet some of them?"

"Um, isn't that dangerous, sir?"

"Call me Max, kid."

"Sorry, military upbringing, da being a soldier and all that."

"I hear ya. And no, it's not really dangerous." Max opened the door into an oppressive feeling and the newbie could feel like she was being pushed down. "That feeling? Anti-magic suppression field laced with a death charm."

"That sounds really dangerous, sir!"

"Not for us. The uniform you're wearing prevents you from feeling the charm. Everything else in here..."

The doors to the cells were bars like the rest of the jail. But the occupants were cuffed and suspended. Their hands covered by metal casings. It looked more like a torture display than incarceration.

They went over to one cell. The elf behind it looked asleep. "This one tried to open a portal to let in a horde of demons."

The one next to him had a scrawny looking dwarf who was clearly struggling against his chains. "This one killed a lot of children. They never could figure out why."

"AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN!" howled the dwarf. They walked on a few more cells down.

In this one, a woman was there. She was calm. Looked bored even. Like she was queued up at the bakery so she could buy a couple rolls and maybe a sweet roll since its been a day even though she really shouldn't.

The newbie looked surprised. "I... I know her!"

Max nodded. "Quite a few do. The 'Chosen One.' Completed her training and first thing she did was burn a village down to the ground. With everyone still in their homes." Max had an air of jest this whole time until now. Now, he seemed ready to just kill her and be done with it.

The woman looked at him and smiled. "Can you blame me?"

"Yeah, I can! And the whole kingdom!"

"Oh? Which one?" Max seemed stumped for a moment which let her continue full speed. "I learned from them all, you know. From the elves, I learned magic that is abused by every other race. From the dwarves, I learned craftsmanship that had no value except for the food they traded to survive. From the goblins, I learned that living off scraps that the other racers give is technically still living. From the orcs I learned the art of war that they were constantly facing from the other races. And from the humans, I learned the most valuable lesson of all."

She paused for a moment as the guards absorbed the information. "I learned that in the end, everyone is an ends to a means, nothing more. Every race was equally worthless and beneath me. There's a reason I was the Chosen One after all."

As if on cue, she burst through the shackles and bindings, kicking the doors down. Max was immediately knocked out. The Chosen One grabbed the newbie by the throat and started squeezing. In her struggled gasps for air, she managed to ask, "Why? You were supposed to save the world!"

As she started losing consciousness, she heard her answer. "Oh yes, the world. But not its people."