𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲, and my Saturday and Sunday shift was taken over by another guard. I was in casual clothing to blend in. The style is somewhat my dad would call 'Inappropriate for a young lady of status'.

And of course it wouldn't fly now. But then, you should be adhering to them as closely as possible. The city here is big enough to call it one but small enough so it passes as a village of sorts. Cars pass by.

I walked down the street as I would if I were one of them. There were a few places to go. But most seemed too out of character. It wasn't lively. Maybe because of a new event being far in the near future.

The woods might be only chance if I wanted get some blood in my system. I walked down to the river, which seemed to have no thoughts as it ran where it wanted to.

"You're free to choose, huh?" I whispered as I walked, staring at the water.

I sit down and wait for my prey to pass by. Hopefully, I get one. I need energy.

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Monday. I came back to work, with my energy replenished and fully focused. I tucked my uniform shirt into the pants and tied my hair while telling myself I need to blend in. There was a tiny speck of blood on my mouth that I seemed to have missed, but before I can wipe it off, a colleague interrupted me.

"Hey, James!" a male voice calls out to me. I freeze before slamming the locker door and turning to face him.

"Oh, what happened? Did you fall or something?" he asked me, walking closer.

"Something like that," I reply, playing along, wiping it quickly before this whole jail sings with stupid rumors. "What was your name again? I do not think we have been properly introduced."

"It's Ryker Lee. Just call me Lee or Ryker or bro... I don't mind either way," he said, extending his hand to me. I don't take it, knowing my hands are impossibly cold and have been the moment i was turned. He let his hand drop, by his side.

"Okay, Lee. Let's get to work," I said, and he whipped back around. He walked, I could hear the jingle of the keys in his pocket. "You've been here long?" I asked, eyes on his pocket.

"I mean, I started a year ago. Man, it's tough with inmates. You never know who is crazy or normal," he replied, and we reached the work desks.

"That's good to know."

I slid into the chair, and Ryker leaned over the counter, eyes on me. He seemed to scan me, almost. If I grabbed his hand, then I might see his past. It was a crazy idea. One which I decided to try again after so many years of not utilizing it.

I grabbed his hand. "Your hand—" he said, but I cut him off, telling him to be quiet.

He was quiet for now as I used his hand. I slipped into his brain. It's filled with cat thoughts. Some humans do love them. I too have a fondness for them, although they are quite naughty at times.

My father let me keep one. I searched through his brain till I found one. A memory of him and maybe his mother. It seems like his father isn't in the picture. Five years old, waiting under the covers. Midnight.

"Ryker? Are you asleep?" His mother's voice floated through the hall.

This must be a small apartment. I watched as she walked down the hall and as he pretended to be asleep. There was snow outside.

A smile painted my face as I watched this sweet little memory. But before I can dive deeper, he pulls his hand away. Too quickly like I burned it.

"Are you trying to SA me?" Ryker asks me, just clutching his hand close to his chest.

I can feel Damon watching us. I glance a bit at him. Jane Austen's book was resting on his leg now, face down.

"No, I was trying to.... How tempered your hand is..." I replied, sitting up.

Ryker blinked a couple times and walked past me to sit down next to me. Work had only started, and I was walking beyond the boundary of colleagues for him, I'm sure.

"Ryker?" I prod, and he half looks at me like a child whose candy was taken without permission.

"Ryker, please do not be like that. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," I said, facing him.

⟡ ═══════ 🍷 ═══════ ⟡

As I walked up to let him and the other inmates out for their breakfast. Their food smells bland. Of course it would. It's prison. It's not going to be five star Michelin cooking.

Hardly anything in here would be. Ryker brought coffee and scones from a nearby cafe. I turned him down softly. The TV was on.

Today's news, I bet. "At 5 am, a passerby spotted a dead man in the woods. The police said this creature, or whatever it was, pierced the man's neck and left him for bed."

No one knows that was me. I hope they won't. I had drank too much from him, and there was not much blood left to take more.

The police talked with the media, it seems. I catch Damon looking at me for some reason.

"James... Please be careful. I don't want you to... spontaneously die and end up on the news," Ryker said, nudging me a little.

"Yeah, of course. I hope they catch that creature," I reply even though I know I am that creature.

Sorry, Ryker, but the hunger overpowered me. I couldn't stop. I wish I could.

"What sort of creature would do that?" He asked.

"A serial killer, maybe."

I was trying to steer him from having a conversation about me. That creature. I sighed and turned away. The other inmates are whispering about the news now.

I gazed at Damon and accidentally caught myself staring into his eyes. He's staring into my eyes too. What is he thinking? I quickly looked away and got back to my duties.