Prison Asalus(outside), Sector 12, Earth

  I blink my eyes several times. They sting from the cold, icy winds blowing into them. I let out a shivered sigh, trying to brush away the cold creeping into my thick coat of armor.

  I look around the snowy clearing. I find it mildly annoying how it’s reaching above my ankles and I have to occasionally shuffle to make sure I don’t get any water in my boots.

  The trees are white ghosts compared to the dark evergreen a few days before. The snow has truly encompassed the landscape, making my previous tracks from two days of walking irrelevant. The sun against the white-blue sky is my only guide for direction, as well as the distant yelling from the prison miles away.

  I have been going in circles guarding the perimeter as per usual, finding nothing suspicious but that just makes the task even lonelier. I would say it has been a depressing experience compared to my previous paired routines.

  I do understand the cause of such arrangements as my stomach begins to growl along with the thought. The potion is wearing off.

  Matthew brought me a full body yesterday to feast on because of this, but it only lasted over twelve hours unfortunately. It’s probably from all the walking I’ve been doing, consuming the little energy I have. If I had another guard with me, well, lucky no one is here with me.

  I’ve been growing very frustrated with the practically starving part of my duty at the moment. Even last night I had an exciting dream of catching a human and devouring them. I guess you can call them wet dreams with the amount of ecstasy I felt during the whole thing, only to wake up with a growling stomach, a dying fire, and cold snow flakes greeting me.

  I believe it would drive anyone mad.

  Though Matthew or Kava would never understand anyway. I wonder if they've ever been in a situation where they had to practically starve for days. Not that I can help these cravings. I understand the Council breathing down their neck and the possible confiscation of myself but to be honest, maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe they’ll have food that’ll last me for months.

  “Eat up, Dog. No telling whether you have another meal to feed you. You’re wasting enough of our resources as it is.”

  I flinch at the sudden memory and I try not to clench my fist into the open wound on my hand that has yet to heal. The feeling of the dirty floor, sticky from my own blood, and sweat is still a vivid feeling.

  The old bastards… I’m glad they're dead.

  The lashing I’d get and the neglectance after was suffocating. They were forced to feed me because they wanted me as a tool, despite the mistreatment. Kava takes good care of me and Matthew is, well, Matthew.

  Sometimes I wonder if he likes me. The way he side-eye’s me when he occasionally comes to visit to see how I’m faring is typically met with annoyance.

  I shuffle, my feet numb in the heavy drift of ice. I begin to walk pondering if Mathew will be kind enough to bring a body, or better yet, the death row inmates are resupplied in Kava’s stash.

  If only I could use the full strength of my counterparts, then maybe I wouldn’t have to go through this.

  I grumble in discontent. My legs begin to ache from standing. I begin to walk but that does nothing to alleviate the discomfort. I see the silhouette of my tent in the distance as I walk further into the tree line and begin to make my way to it. If I’m going to be out here for hours, I might as well spend the rest of the afternoon resting my poor legs.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Resting.” I grimace instantly to the familiar rumble on the back of my neck. I continue walking down through the deep trenches of snow, ignoring the voice. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

  “Seems a bit too early for a rest,” he begins. I can almost hear the grin. ”You’re the only guard in the northern quarter. Kind of irresponsible if you ask me.” I can hear the chide in his voice and scowl at the mention of “irresponsibility”.

  “Well, knowing how I’ve barely eaten and have been wandering in the cold for hours, without a partner, note that down, you can imagine how efficient I’d be without a rest.”

  “You rest at night, that’s plenty,” he states nonchalantly.

  “I want you to walk around hours a day starving and see how I feel,” I mutter.

  “So pessimistic,” he begins.

  I stop in my tracks and turn to him to growl. He stares back at me, meeting my enraged gaze. I feel heat rise under my skin as it crawls with anticipation. An excuse for me to lash out and maybe take a snack out of him.

  His blue eyes don’t quiver as I step forward. He holds his confident, straight stance. His arms are placed behind his back, his head raised slightly to look down at me, his chest barely puffed.

  My eye twitches.

  “So angry,” he teases. A small smirk reaches his eyes before he frowns.

  “I’m in no mood,” I mutter. It takes much concentration not to reach for his throat.

  “And I don’t make exceptions. You think you’re special? I’m not Kava.” His eyes harden. I attempt not to reach for him. Instead, my arms swing impatiently at my sides. “I don’t care if you’re in the mood or not. You’re alone because you’re a danger. You have no food because you're an inconvenience, so think of this as your punishment, yeah?”

  I sneer and nod. I back away from him and breathe heavily out of my nose a few times to calm down. “I understand.”

  “Now that we have that settled, I’m sure you want to know why I’m here?”

  ”If it’s not for food then it’s probably for the journey to the Council, right?”

  He winks at me, the seriousness fades from his eyes yet he still looks stern. “That’s right. Doesn’t that make your day to get away from this boring job?”

  “Boring? It’s fucking guard duty, it doesn’t matter if it’s boring,” I state. “I just want some real food.”

  “It’s funny how you say it so casually,” he leers at me. I feel irritation boil under my skin but refrain from any actions. “We can’t take a whole body with us since it would be considered suspicious to the mundane. You may just have to make due.” I sneer, imagining a sadistic smile forming behind that mask.

  “Fine,” I snort. I feel a wave of frustration for a second but dismiss it and turn away. “I’ll pack my things.”

  I find his eyes boring into the back of my neck as I continue making my way back to camp. As I reach the small encampment, I begin to take down my tent, willing myself not to tear it into pieces. I grab my bag as soon as I’m done with that. I shake it and take a peek to find only dirty scraps of clothes inside as well as a slight musk and a hint of rotten flesh.

  I peel my lips back in disgust and pull the sack to my back. I step on the smoldered fire for good measure and turn to face the blue eyed daemon staring at me from the edges of the tree line.

  He nods at me and turns away. I follow him through the woods. After forty minutes of walking, we reached the entrance of the prison. Matthew pulls his phone from his pocket as I assume he makes a call.

  I turn away from him and walk to the gate of the prison. It’s large with black bars and thick barbed wire encompassing the top of the gate. I could at least assume it’s ten feet but I don’t really have a direct measurement. The prison looks like the moodier and more bleak version of the infamous Transylvania. It's on the smaller side but still looks like it was inspired by the most vile of vampires, Dracula.

  Dracula for a time was known as the king of daemons. I haven’t heard much about his rule but I do know the one council before the previous was there to rebel against him. They brought him down with many casualties and eventually took over and formed the 15 sectors.

  The sad appearance of the prison and I’m sure other estates are a cold relic of their past. Would explain why the land is bare, too. They tend to suck the life out of everything with their touch.

  “Gratier, come here.” I hear his almost urgent tone snap me out of my thoughts and turn to him. “Sabrien is coming. She’s our escort. Please be patient with her,” he nearly grits his last sentence as I take a stand beside him.

  Not long as the words leave his mouth, a black car emerges from the far corner around the building. I’ve never seen many vehicles besides the big buses that carry prisoners and the small car Kava owns. This one seems sleek, slim and long. It struggles to push its way through the thick snow. It doesn’t take long for the car to stop, only a few feet from us, and settle with a click!

  Out comes a curvy woman from the passenger seat dressed all in black. Her skin is mocha, and her coily dark brown hair is in a short afro. Her eyes shine darkly but are as bright as polished obsidian. She waves her hand at us with a smile that seems to outshine the pale blue sky.

  “Hey, boys.” She marches to us in her furred boots. She seems to not mind the already melted snow tarnishing the well groomed cloth. “It’s been ages, Matt!” She turns to the blue eyed devil and opens her arms. She finally reaches him and gives him a big hug, which he reciprocates weakly. She’s a head shorter than him I notice as she mostly hugs his chest. “Kava has you on guard duty, huh?”

  I see something crinkle in his eyes. “I guess you can say that.”

  She turns to me and looks at me up and down. I feel slightly uncomfortable at the way she oggles everything else but my face.

  What’s her deal?

  “And who’s this hunk? He’s bigger than I thought.”

  I squint my eyes at her. “What do you mean by that?” I cross my arms, silently wishing she’d look anywhere else.

  A dark emotion swirls in her eyes. I try to make eye contact but she somehow avoids it, staring at anything below my neck instead.

  “Oh, the way Matthew would describe you,” she drawls and finally rips her eyes away to look at the man beside her. He only turns away from her. “You’re built is all I’m trying to say. The only problem I have with you is that horrible rash I see peeking around your eyes. If it weren’t for that, you’d be stunning.” She turns back to me with a snarky grin.

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  I flinch at her comment and feel my stomach and chest squirm with emotion. I bite my tongue though and manage to only blink at her.

  Matthew coughs in his hand. “Sabrien,” he warns.

  The woman turns to him and shrugs. “Well, enough of that. Would you like to go or not? The Council doesn't like waiting.”

  She turns back and walks briskly to the car. I finally acknowledge the sway of her hips as she opens the passenger door. She turns around to wink at me as she catches me staring. I feel my body jolt with some kind of feeling, but I can’t put my finger on it. I look at Matthew and blink when he gives me a confused look. He soon shrugs, rolling his eyes, and follows the woman. He climbs into the backseat as I follow after him.

  “Put your sack in the trunk,” Matthew utters as he closes the door.

  I do so with a nod and open the trunk. The back is full of supplies and a faint smell of…

  Meat?

  I scan my eyes over the first aid kits and mundane items of food.

  Maybe it’s some kind of residue.

  “Are you coming?” I hear Matthew call.

  “Why don’t I get anything?” I try not to let irritation leak into my voice as I sift through the trunk more.

  “We’re out, remember? You just have to sit and wait. I’m sure you can do that with the suppressant I gave you.”

  “But it's wearing off,” I point out.

  “Then you just have to make due.”

  I growl under my breath and load my bag. As I got into the car, I watched as Matthew removed the eagle-shaped helmet from his head.

  Envy is all I can muster as I stare at him.

  His chestnut curls bounce down to his shoulders. He ruffles his hair and attempts to fix it with no avail. He sighs and pulls down his mask, revealing his perky nose and pink lips. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks but it’s barely noticeable.

  Matthew reaches to the driver seat in front of me. “Draven, do you have a brush I can borrow?”

  I rip my eyes away from him to stare at the grey scaly hand appearing to smack his hand away and wave at him. I tilt around to try to take a peek at his face. The bulky man is wearing wraps around his head and arms but by the look of his hand I can tell he’s rather tanned and scarred.

  Glad to see I’m not so different.

  “Ask the hag here,” Draven gruffly responds, side eyeing Matthew with red tinted eyes.

  “Hag?” I ask.

  “Oh, please,” Sabrien moans and lolls her head to me. A devious smirk crosses her face showing her small canines. “I’m a harpy,” she states. She then turns to Matthew. “I’m not a hag like your mother. She’s way out of my league,” she teases.

  Ah.

  Harpy’s are a warrior race of avians. They are typically winged women, usually covered in feathers, with bird-like feet. They can freely disguise themselves as humans to attract male mates since men born by them are rare. I did hear a while ago that those harpies who come down for a mate aren’t warrior material and are used for reproduction only.

  Makes me wonder how weak she is to come down here.

  Matthew sneers at her and turns to look out the window. “Whatever,” he grunts. “Don’t worry about the brush. I don’t need it.”

  The car begins to move. I look out the window to see us passing by the large prison. Only snow and trees pass as far as I can see, barely any road to be seen.

  I’ve only left the grounds once when I was twelve and it still looks the same as when I came. I did sleep through most of the trip though so I wouldn’t be surprised if I find something new on the way to the Council building.

  There’s a long silence that takes place in the car. As much as I try not to spite the man beside me for his fortune, his presence is like a radiant glow that burns into my back. I know it’s an irrational thought but I can’t stop imagining peeling the skin off his face for his horribly admirable beauty.

  Instead I try to peek at Sabrien, who is more than average in my head. She occasionally makes eye contact with me and winks but besides that, she looks onward with either a devious smile or a stern frown.

  After some time of sitting in the car, I notice the dark frosted trees are now gone, replaced by snowy plains and the occasional abandoned houses. The road is also now barely visible by the naked eye.

  “Gate,” mutters Draven.

  I peek past the driver’s seat to see ahead of us.

  A shimmer of light and color lay ahead of us. Light barely reflects into it, almost casting a rainbow glitter on the snow beneath it.

  This is the barrier between the supernatural prison and the outside world. It was cast down by Kava years ago and maintained by the occasional neighboring witches and Wizards that visit here from time to time.

  Gates are scattered all around the sectors. They are usually there to keep the mundane out of the supernatural territory, though many prefer to be in contact with them. Besides this barrier only holding Kava’s prison, many others hold towns and cities or sometimes human trafficking centers, which are used to feed some species requiring blood and flesh.

  Sabrien and I watch the bulky, bandaged man make his way out of the car and approach the shimmering gate. I watch as he places his hand near the wall and mutters a spell quietly to himself. The gate breaks down quickly and dissipates.

  Draven quickly runs back to the car. He slides into the passenger seat and starts the engine as the gate begins to quickly close rapidly.

  He drives through before the gate could completely attach itself and we continue to make our way down the snowy road in silence.

  The remote parts of Estonia are a separate universe. There are spots all over the world, pocket dimensions so to speak, that connect the human world to the supernatural. These spots are called sectors, and those sectors belong to different councils that are ruled by vampires. They are a gated community, sometimes bigger than others, that must agree to each others’ terms. Sector 12, my area, has many small gated communities, mostly meant for practical and military work rather than communities. Which is why there are more areas where humans reside compared to supernaturals.

  Eventually, we pulled into a gas station. I look out the window to find the same barren land and snow. The sky is now a bright white as we all begin to step out of the car. I close my eyes a few times attempting to adjust the brightness glaring at me from all directions.

  “I'm going to grab some food,” Matthew says.

  My stomach churns with envy.

  He looks at me as we both begin to walk to the front door, leaving Sabrien behind. I glance at her a few times trying to chat up Draven to no avail. He simply flips her off and starts filling the car up with gas. She soon rolls her eyes and climbs back into the car.

  Thank the Hells!

  I need a break from food- I mean, that harpy for a minute.

  “You wanna take off your helmet?” Matthew suddenly asks as we reach the door. “This is mundane territory.”

  I stare at him with unease then lean to look into the store window. I don’t see anyone inside but it’s hard to tell with all the high shelves blocking my view to the register.

  “I’ll say it’s pretend,” I say with an unenthusiastic huff.

  “Oh? Into cosplay, are we?” He leers at me, a toothy white grin placates me. “I didn’t know you were into that?”

  I sneer. “Cosplay?”

  “Never mind. Just take off your helmet. It’s weird. Just say you’re a burn victim.”

  I stare at him.

  He shrugs. “It’s true, right?” He holds out his hand. I stare at it with a grimace. “Give it.”

  “Fine.”

  I pull the helmet from my head and hand it to him. Cold air hits my ears and the top of my head suddenly feels frigid. I rub my thin cropped hair feeling the heat under my skin almost scalding my palm. It’s hard to tell if I’m imagining this feeling or if it's truly hot. I do not question it more when I pull my hand away.

  Matthew watches me with a slight look of surprise. “Your hair is so bright in this light. It almost makes you look bald,” he gapes.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. “Do I have to take off the mask, too?”

  “Depends. Let me see?”

  I pull it down briefly but don’t give him a chance to look for four seconds. I watch his face turn pale and immediately wince at the sight.

  “How do you clean that?”

  ”Mm.” I shrug at him.

  “Keep the mask on.” He quickly turns away to the door, barely stealing a glance.

  He walks into the store. I follow not too far behind him. He glances at me occasionally with a concerning worrisome expression as we both search the aisles. I shrug at him in response, trying my best to let my discomfort not take the best of me.

  He eventually picks up a can of Fringle’s. “Do you want me to buy you some?”

  I take a peek at the counter. A cashier sits at the register, absentmindedly looking at her phone.

  I look back at him and blink. “I can’t, remember?”

  He frowns. “Right. Sorry.” He looks to the refrigerators on the other side of the building and points at them. “Can you drink?”

  “Haven’t before. Could give it a try.”

  His eyebrow quirks. “Really?”

  He guides me to the machine and pulls out a simple water bottle.

  “Let’s try this in case.” He looks at me questionably.

  I shrug again. “Sure.”

  “I’ll pay for it.”

  We walk up to the counter. Matthew places the items down. The cashier looks up from her phone. As soon as her eyes caught mine, her face drains of color. She opens her mouth to speak but only a wisp of breath comes out.

  “Burn victim,” Matthew states plainly.

  She looks at him and then back at me with pity. She begins to tear her eyes away and tries to focus on scanning the two items. I look around the store to avoid eye contact but it doesn’t help the feeling of her stealing glances.

  “Here you go,” she finally says, though it’s a whisper.

  “Thank you,” Matthew attempts to smile but it doesn’t land. “Have a great afternoon, miss.”

  “You, too.” I can feel her look at me as she says this.

  We both turn to leave. I try my best not to respond to the woman’s stare but feel my hackles rise and my hair on my neck bristle. Irritation dances on the surface of my skull. I try not to turn around to launch at the eyes boring into my back as we exit the door.

  I feel a warm hand grip my shoulder and glance to Matthew. He doesn’t make eye contact, which is preferred.

  “You okay?” He asks quietly.

  “Why do you suddenly care?” I grumble.

  He doesn’t respond. Instead, as we reach the car, he hands me the water bottle and slides into the back seat. I hold the cold bottle in my hand and stand there for a moment.

  If only…

  I squeeze the bottle slightly but apparently it’s too much and it breaks in my hand. Cold water gushed onto my arm and face. I began to shiver, noticing the sudden cold gust of wind in the air. I quickly slid into the other side of the car, throwing the twisted plastic across the parking lot, feeling hot anger rush through me.

  “What was that?” I hear the harpy chuckle beside me. Her voice is like razors to the side of my skull.

  “Fuck off.” I breathe through my nose, realizing the sudden anger in my tone.

  “Are you okay?” I glance at Matthew seeing the worry in his eyes.

  I grow annoyed at the look and turn to the window.

  How many times is he going to ask me that?

  I grumble, “I’m fine.”

  I don’t want his sympathy. I don’t want him to say anything to me. Why treat me like a person now when he’s been obviously annoyed by my existence for days?

  I hear him sigh. “You owe me for the water.”

  I don’t reply.

  “You’re soaking the seat,” states the harpy.

  Something snaps and I turn to her. I don’t know what she sees but her eyes widen in fear. She quickly turns away from me without a peep.

  The car goes quiet as Draven pulls out of the gas station and heads down the road.