《The Grey Dog》 Prologue Prison Asalus(outside), Sector 12, Earth Cold winds blow through the trees creating an eerie whistle throughout the starless night. Faint screaming can be heard from the distance, of those who cannot and will not be saved. Prison Asalus. The castle shadows itself over the dark clearing. It¡¯s known for holding supernatural criminals or those who refuse to obey vampire authority. The eerie miniature English castle is where I resided for the last eighteen years of my life and it¡¯s nothing I¡¯d call pleasant in the long run. It¡¯s run by the former ambassador witch, Kava, who is my handler. The guards below her either consist of volunteers, war veterans, or parolees. I fit only one of those categories, though it¡¯s more for my safety than anything else. I squint my eyes through the dark, watching the trees sway in front of me and cold drifts of snow land on the frostbitten grass. The dark loom of the prison yards ahead is only a shadow against the full glow of the moon. The guard besides me shuffles impatiently, sneaking glances at me from time to time. I take a moment to study him, mostly out of boredom. He¡¯s a head shorter than I am, wearing black, fur-filled armor that barely glistens in the moonlight. The leather piece on his chest and torso almost allows him to blend into his surroundings. If it weren¡¯t for the shining, bristled, black fur glittering in the moon¡¯s glow, or his glossy, dark helmet, he would¡¯ve been undetected. He turns to me, finally acknowledging me with confidence. His round helmet only shows his deep dark eyes, scrutinizing me. He wears a mask on his lower half of his face, preventing anyone from telling him apart from the rest of our ranks. He finally speaks, ¡°have you heard of the Undead Hound?¡± I immediately respond with a no as I shake my head at the notion. The bristles of the very same armor we share scratching my neck. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve had my suspicions,¡± says the man, his voice low. I stare back unwavering. ¡°Hm?¡± I blink at him waiting for him to continue. ¡°You smell like a wet, decaying dog, you know that?¡± Though his mask covers most of his face, I can see a crease between his eyes identifying the scrunched nose. ¡°And so?¡± I raise my brow at him in turn. ¡°Makes me wonder if the legends are true. I¡¯m sure you heard of them. It¡¯s all over Estonia.¡± I shrug, feigning ignorance. ¡°Of what? You¡¯re being rather vague.¡± He continues, ¡°an undead dog. Half lycanthrope, half strigoi. An experiment made by The Council to combat the war with their fleabag enemies almost two decades ago. Ring any bells?¡± ¡°Yeah, the Grey Dog.¡± I reply dismissively. ¡°What of it? You don¡¯t expect me to be him, do you?¡± I chuckle in an attempt to hide my growing irritation. He chuffs, ¡°well, the smell fits.¡± I subtly shake my head at him. ¡°How would you know how I smell? A little pervy, don¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± he gives off a short laugh. ¡°But I can smell you even if I were two-hundred miles away. Us supernaturals have a really good sense of smell.¡± He taps at his nose for more emphasis. The Grey Dog is a tale that¡¯s eighteen years old. There are many variations of it. Some say it was a warrior within their ranks who slayed the werewolves. Others, an abomination made by the council for their own benefit. The truth is none of those. The truth is that it was a mistake that was used for their advantage only to turn on them. ¡°I haven¡¯t taken a good bath since the bloody trials,¡± I sigh, trying to come up with an excuse. ¡°You and I both know how we¡¯ve been out here fending our own for routinely vigils for two days now. You don¡¯t think an old man would get a little smelly.¡± I say it matter of factly though I mean it to come off as a question. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. The man holds up his arms in defense. ¡°I¡¯m just saying.¡± He looks away from me to the looming shadows. He laughs softly, ¡°eh? What¡¯s your name then?¡± I glare at him. ¡°You know it¡¯s against the code to speak our truths.¡± There¡¯s a code in place for any guardsman¡¯s safety, since most who work here are criminals who earned their way out of the cells. This man should know the punishments for even daring to ask that question. His eyes squint as he looks back at me. ¡°Tracey.¡± He holds out his hand in a greeting gesture but I don¡¯t take it. Instead, I turn away and look ahead. ¡°Now, it¡¯s only fair if you tell me yours.¡± I shake my head. ¡°You know how much trouble you¡¯ll be in-¡° ¡°I know,¡± I see him wave his hand in dismissal from the corner of my eye. ¡°They¡¯ll have my head,¡± he laughs almost boastfully. ¡°But who cares? They wanted us dead from the get go. This is just parole.¡± ¡°You really think that, don¡¯t you?¡± I smell the hint of fear in the air. I try not to let it raise my hackles and take a deep breath to calm down. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, captain. It¡¯s fine. Let me guess, old dog. I¡¯ve heard a lot of rumors around the halls.¡± There¡¯s a pause. ¡°Gratier?¡± I feel my skin crawl off my body. My flesh stretches in my hands and bones crack momentarily before I could have a second thought. I quickly took a few deep breaths in order to calm my nerves. I train my eyes on him, smelling the scent of fear stronger than before. ¡°D-did I,¡± he gulps and straightens himself abruptly. ¡°Did I hit a nerve?¡± He looks at my hand that is pressed against my side. Did he see it morph? I squint my eyes. Probably - from the acrid smell of fear in the air. ¡°No,¡± I blink, quickly realizing my stature to be crooked and straighten myself. ¡°Just surprised you got it right.¡± ¡°So,¡± he blinks, his eyes wide. ¡°You are the Undead Dog. What brings you all the way out here?¡± I sigh, racking my brain for a proper answer, even considering ripping his skin off his body for breaking the code of anonymity. I could tell him what truly brought me here or threaten his life then kill him just to not deal with it later. ¡°Wolf, I can¡¯t have another body to explain to the higher ups, so please try to keep things quiet.¡± I grunt, remembering Kava''s words. Though he did break the code, I can¡¯t punish him here but also can¡¯t trust him to tell anyone else the truth before they execute him either. I grin. To the hells, it would be fun to tease him. Tell him what really happened, then skin him here and eat his foul flesh. Not like I can digest real food anyway. ¡°What¡¯s that look?¡± I look down at him and frown. ¡°I was not an experiment, but an accident,¡± I started. ¡°What do you mean?¡± The words seem to fumble from his mouth like trembling leaves. I try my best not to grin at the stronger rush of fear evading the air and say, ¡°My father, the right hand man of The Council, fell in love with a human. Though, unbeknownst to him, it was a lycanthrope-¡° He interrupts me. ¡°What? How? I thought Lycans were only large dogs. I¡¯ve never heard of a humanoid one.¡± ¡°The gene of hers was recessive,¡± I state. ¡°And Lycans descended from the old followers of Hell, so they were human first before they were cursed.¡± Lycanthropes are typically large dogs. They¡¯re born human but those who still have the curse running dominant in their veins turn into large, demonic dire wolves during their first full moon. They aren¡¯t dangerous and mind their own. My mom merely avoided this gene and maybe was raised by her lycan parents before meeting my father. The gene passed onto me, making me a strigoi hybrid. What¡¯s a strigoi? Strigois are half vampires, usually deriving from blood, but can stand in the sun and are less strong or stronger than their parents. They¡¯re in the category of the living undead. People rotting but can still bleed red and radiate warmth. They are described as normal looking in human standards with a pale complexion. ¡°Anyway,¡± I sigh. ¡°They found out after he was killed. My mother died during childbirth, trading her life for mine.¡± The man nods, unease radiating off his stance. ¡°They brought her in during labor. She gave birth to me in the entrance and fell dead immediately. They quickly gathered her body, my father, and I and burned us where we stood.¡± Tracey¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°So how did you survive? No creature could survive such a scalding.¡± I smirk. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m lost at, too. They heard my cries seconds after the fire went out. They claimed I was a daemon sent from the Hells,¡± I chuckle and then grimace at the thought. The memory of them sending me out everyday to use me as bait just to come back every time, deforming every trip. I clench my jaw and instinctively touch my neck under a layer of fur. Only burnt meat lay underneath. I can barely feel my finger rub against it. Despite this deformity, it is hot. Always hot. Always burning. I shudder. ¡°And then?¡± I blink at him, my vision blurry. ¡°They burnt me again, and again, trying to get rid of me.¡± My heart throbs almost painfully in my chest at the thought of murder after attempted murder on just an infant. Unfortunately, I¡¯m a hypocrite for even thinking that way. The things I had to do to appease the people holding my leash always left me with a guilty conscience. I take a deep breath, ¡°once they couldn¡¯t do that, they used me for their sick experiments. Then, they threw me out in the midst of war to be decoy.¡± ¡°The Council said you helped win the war, not to be a sacrificial lamb,¡± the guard argues. ¡±They said you were a great warrior that was the bane to the werewolves.¡± Werewolves¡­ the lesser version of Lycans. Only able to shift into a man-beast under the full moon, they were once humans so greedy for power they cursed their own bloodline. The Council found this as a threat and declared war on them. It was going on for centuries up until I was thrown in and quelled them, and eventually The Council. I¡¯m sure there are some I missed but they should be a rare breed now. I shook my head and explained, ¡°that¡¯s because I snapped, and murdered them all. Women. Children. Elderly¡­¡± I trail off. I turn back to the looming shadow and close my eyes, taking in the screams. The curdling, bloody cries echoes in my head as I take a deep breath to empty them. I open my eyes. ¡°After the bloodshed, I turned on them. I killed them all,¡± I grit my teeth. ¡°And in the end, it didn¡¯t help the feeling of hunger. It didn¡¯t feed me.¡± ¡°So, why are you here? What made you come here?¡± The shaking is still prominent in his voice. I shrug. ¡°Someone found me bleeding to death, and brought me back here,¡± I say plainly. She did it to use you. I flinch. ¡°Are you going to kill me now?¡± he chuckles nervously. I look at him. ¡°Well, Tracey, you did break the code, didn¡¯t you? And, I would prefer you didn¡¯t tell anyone about this.¡± The sick stench of fear overwhelms me as I see the man¡¯s smile fade. His body almost crumbles. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t tell a soul,¡± he begs. The upset tone in his voice is almost dizzying. ¡°Promise?¡± ¡°I promise!¡± He nearly cries out these words yet, I only smile and say, ¡°it¡¯s unfortunate. I don¡¯t believe you.¡± I don¡¯t give him a chance and grab him by his throat. I tear off my helmet showing my rotten face and unhinge my jaws around his head. I feel my bones pop and crack as blood sprays across the now thin snow and splatter onto the frightened man¡¯s face. I close down before he could let out a choked scream. Savory. Sweet. Delicious. I don¡¯t have time to dawdle on decency. I¡¯ve been waiting for this for so long. My face feels hot, my skin feels stretched. Sticky blood everywhere. His and mine. Mingled. My body burns. It¡¯s on fire! My breath hitches in my throat. I stop. Everything pops back into place. I can¡¯t open my eyes. Expected. They tingle and I already know why. ¡°What did I say about eating my guards?¡± Kava¡¯s voice is all I need to hear. Part One Prison Asalus, Sector 12, Earth I stand in an office darkly lit by a fire. In front of the fire lies a wooden desk where Kava is sitting. The room is almost a library, as small as it is. There are bookshelves on all sides of the room except for the entrance. The rug beneath where I stand is red with swirling, pale patterns ingrained. I shuffle my wet, dirty boots, smearing the rug with mud and dried flakes of blood. My face feels raw and hot and I try my best not to scratch or rub it. Kava looks begrudgingly at my feet and then makes eye contact. ¡°So, it was for nothing. You killed another person, for what?¡± It¡¯s stated as if proven. As if it''s a fact. I disagree. I immediately stop the shuffling and meet her gaze harshly. ¡°It was not,¡± I grit, charred skin that is my face pulling uncomfortably from the dried blood caked on it. ¡°He knew my identity and I could not risk-¡° ¡°You¡¯re ruining my reputation with your risk,¡± she exclaims, her face turning beet red with anger. I flinch but keep my stature. ¡°After I took you in and helped you,¡± she continues, almost painfully. ¡±I warned you not to step out of line, and look at what you did! I can only do this so many times, Gratier.¡± I clamp my mouth shut and pierce my lips. I stare back at her steely eyes and repress a rebuttal, knowing full well the consequences. She takes a couple of deep breaths and leans back in her black leather chair. Her short ash brown hair sways in front of her eyes. Her long, black painted nail swipes the strands behind her ears. She closes her steel eyes and opens them again, looking past me, to the door. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she finally sighs. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I can clean this up.¡± She then looks directly at me with a purposeful look. ¡°Get cleaned, Gratier. You¡¯re making my rug filthy. I would even say I smelled you from the building.¡± I would blush if I could but my face was already red and warm enough. I nod and quickly turn away towards the double doors. ¡°Ah! I didn¡¯t say you could leave.¡± My shoulders sag and I turn my body towards her. I stare into the fire behind. ¡°It¡¯s fine, you don¡¯t have to look at me.¡± She chuckles suddenly and I strain to keep my eyes off her. My skin pricks with unease. ¡°After eighteen years, you¡¯re still the same kid covered in your own blood. You haven¡¯t grown a bit. I guess I can blame the strigoi part of you for stunting your growth.¡± A lecture. I already know what¡¯s coming before she says it. That¡¯s what happens when your keeper raises and trains you for so long. ¡°I¡¯ve thought long and hard about your condition. I thought guard duty would be a good use for you rather than mercenary work. That¡¯s what the new Council said you¡¯d be good at. Mercenary work. And, personally, I didn¡¯t want to bring you back out into the battlefield due to your history.¡± ¡°Makes sense,¡± I mutter. I know the new counsel replaced the old after I murdered them so long ago. I don¡¯t know much about them but Kava has said they¡¯ve tried to obtain me for years. She never allowed them though, and I assumed it was because they struck some kind of deal. If I remember from one of our lectures, if I proved that I wasn¡¯t a threat, they wouldn¡¯t have to take me away. I hear Kava sigh. ¡°I worry about you, Gratier. I do, but you doing this does not create a good look for us. If I didn¡¯t find you, someone else would. They would have made you a slave again and put you back in chains.¡± I shudder for the second time today at the mere thought. I try my damndest to keep these memories and thoughts at bay. This is a record, or one I haven¡¯t made in a long time. They wouldn¡¯t, would they? Of course they would. If they¡¯re anything like their previous, they¡¯d try to use me for their experiments or throw me out into another war I never want to be a part of. I¡¯m an asset. They wouldn¡¯t just kill me. I¡¯m one of the impossible and a living undead at that. I have value, as unfortunate as the circumstances. ¡°How about you take a break? No, I almost forgot, I have something to tell you.¡± The room goes quiet and I dare not look at her. I didn¡¯t want to see her face. ¡°Gratier, look at me.¡± I look at her and feel my chest ache at the pained look on her face. Frustration is plastered in her eyes. ¡°Yes,¡± I ask tentatively. ¡°The Council asked for you.¡± I feel my body shake, my burning face warm, now hot. I think I feel the crusted blood harden a little against my raw skin. I take a deep breath, breathing through my nose and try my best to calm down. ¡°This wasn¡¯t my choice but since your accident with Tracey, I don¡¯t have an option.¡± ¡°Why do they need me?¡± I feel fear break out on the skin and curse at how obviously scared I am. They will torture! They wish to make me their slave! Just like Ramesios did! As the vile creatures before him tried! ¡°Hey.¡± I snap back to reality and feel warmth under my fingers. I look down and realize my left glove has torn. Blood drips from my clenched knuckles and I loosen up to see four crescent shaped holes etched into my palm. Kava sighs as I look back at her. ¡°First the mud and flaky blood, now this.¡± She reaches under her desk and places a bandage in front of her. ¡°Here. I didn¡¯t mean to cause more stress than already present.¡± She pushes the bandage toward me and I quickly grab it. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, I¡¯m sure they won¡¯t do you any harm. Just an assessment of the people in their territory. I fear they don¡¯t trust you.¡± She glares at me knowingly. ¡°They are also considering having you work for them instead of me.¡± ¡°They still want to use me.¡± I state with barely a semblance of surprise. ¡°Because of what I did to their predecessors.¡± Her brows furrow, but she slowly nods. ¡°Yes, that, too. And may I remind you of your fellow guardsman once again. That man is not the first you¡¯ve killed here. As I said before, this was probably the last straw for them. There¡¯s no telling what they¡¯d do, really.¡± Her eyes mist over in worry. She glances down and I notice she¡¯s still staring at the unused bandage in my hand. I take off my glove and start to wrap my bloody hand. I barely feel anything as I tighten the wrap against my palm. It doesn¡¯t take long for the bandage to be soaked red. ¡°They also want to know how your mental state is. They have been reluctant lately.¡± She pauses and then says, ¡°apparently, now it looks as if they¡¯re ready to see you. As your act earlier only proved their worries.¡± She may be right. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have killed him. It was the wrong move. I also couldn¡¯t just let him get away with the information he had. Maybe me telling him was an excuse to kill¡­ I ask, ¡°Are you coming with me?¡± I know I sound like a clingy child for asking but I don¡¯t know anyone else who I can trust. It aches my heart just thinking about leaving her even for a few days. I try not to let the small emotional dilemma reach my eyes. I couldn¡¯t tell if she could see them watering or not. I feel the burning heat of embarrassment on my face. ¡°No.¡± She shakes her head solemnly. ¡°I am sending an escort with you and a handler. Your handler should be able to fill in most of the details,¡± she assures. ¡°What was it like for you?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m a witch after all. They just tested my loyalty and viability. They just don¡¯t like me having a Lycan hybrid in my care. Especially knowing your history.¡± Her pained eyes at the mention say something else that creates some curiosity. My brain bubbles with a question about magick but I shut that down quickly. I know full well how touchy she is on the subject. I¡¯ve never seen her perform any, but I know she¡¯s well versed in potions and medicine. You don¡¯t really need magick if you have that, do you? ¡°What day will it be?¡± She presses her black painted claws against her chin and looks at me in thought. ¡°Three days from now.¡± I nod. ¡°Okay.¡± Fear pricks my skin again but I don¡¯t let it get any further than that. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll get prepared.¡± I move my eyes around the perimeter of the room looking for- ¡°Oh, I forgot.¡± Kava reaches under her desk again and tosses me my helmet. ¡°Thanks,¡± I say. I fit it over my head, and finally turn to the double doors and walk out. As soon as I step out of the door, one of the fellow guards approaches me from the side. Supposedly they¡¯re one of the guards overseeing the hall leading into the warden¡¯s office. I acknowledge them with a curt nod and continue walking down the dim hallway. Only lanterns against the stone walls are what guides me down the straight end tunnel. The harsh smell of metal and chlorine stains the air. The rough cement floor scraps under my boots as I lazily pick up my feet. Before I can turn and go down the winding stairs that lead to the main hall and cells, the stench of sweat and blood mingling in the air, I feel someone put a hand on my shoulder. I turn back to see the same guard that tried to approach me earlier. I only recognize them because of their light, azure, blue eyes. They wear a black fur coat, with thick dark brown leather armor underneath. Their obsidian colored helmet is in the shape of an eagle, declaring their status, unlike mine which is a standard round. ¡°You¡¯re a higher guardsman,¡± I state. ¡°And you¡¯re the Undead Dog.¡± His voice is deep and resounding. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Kava gave me permission,¡± he quickly says, noticing my shoulders beginning to tense. I calm down and blink at him in a silent question. I assume I know why he¡¯s here but I want to be sure. ¡°I¡¯m your overseer for the trip,¡± he answers. ¡°Of course,¡± I say with a polite tone. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you know why I did it.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°I can assume why. You usually don¡¯t kill without reason.¡± ¡°And how would you know that?¡± I eye him suspiciously. ¡°After Grace, I¡¯ve been watching you from afar.¡± My eyes widen momentarily. Grace. She was the first to notice. She was also the first to threaten me. She was a vampire of course and I had just murdered her Council after I was initiated. She stated she could smell the rotten mutt on me and threatened to end me in my sleep. I took her out right there.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Grace was killed a day after I came here. I had eyes on me for that long?¡± He shrugs. ¡°You literally killed the most powerful vampires in the continent and had just murdered a vampire underling. You don¡¯t think they wouldn¡¯t send people to watch you?¡± I nod in understanding. How could I have been watched for so long and hadn¡¯t noticed? A slip up on my part. Maybe an idiot as well. I sigh. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right. I also suppose you know Kava well?¡± ¡°She¡¯s my mother.¡± I freeze and glare at him. Kava had a son and didn¡¯t tell me? I thought witches couldn¡¯t have children? Magic users are usually infertile and steal their children or sacrifice pregnant women through a ritual to birth a biological child of their own. It was a curse placed on them by the old gods for doubting their power and betraying their wishes. It was a way of slowly killing off their kind though they found alternatives to combat this. Children who are stolen undergo a traditional practice which usually most kids don¡¯t survive. Kava never went into detail of this, but I do know she was one of the victims for this method. Usually a symbol of runes are placed for magick to enter, invisible to the naked eye but glow accordingly to the magick they use. Children who are born through the sacrifice of pregnant mothers come out naturally as witches/wizards and are supposedly stronger than the stolen children. No markings are found, but raw magick manipulates the environment around them which is a tell. I wonder if she stole him, or killed someone for him. I squint at him and take a breath. Lycans or vampires can¡¯t see magickal aura which would dictate a witch¡¯s and/or wizard¡¯s origins. Lycans can smell the raw magick on them if they know where to look, unlike my strigoi counterpart. Oddly enough though, no smell comes with him. He¡¯s as tasteless as the air around him. Strange. ¡°Adopted,¡± he says, glaring back at me. ¡°Oh.¡± I turn from his icy stare and begin to make my way downstairs. The man follows me. ¡°Matthew,¡± he whispers. I don¡¯t reply but understand. Maybe he won¡¯t get in trouble for telling me due to the circumstances. ¡°You don¡¯t have to reply.¡± I don¡¯t and make it to the landing. As I walk down the halls, we finally make it to the room of empty, dark cells. Grime and stale blood decorates the interiors. The smell of old sweat and other unappealing smells also cling in the air. Thanks to the mask, it sort of lessens the intensity of the stench. I notice for a moment how quiet it suddenly is. Usually you could hear screaming in the distance from tortured inmates and angry prisoners. I hear nothing as I make it to the end of the hall, only hearing mine, and Matthew¡¯s footsteps bouncing off the walls. I enter the end of the door to be greeted by the icy winds. I blink away the snow stinging my eyes to see the main room. It¡¯s rather big as we stand on the second floor overlooking the recess area below us. The only thing that separates us from them is a glass dome shielding the snow. From here I could see various species of people and monsters. Some relatively normal looking, others resembling blobs of flesh that are either foreign or of some familiarity to animals. Everyone seems to be silently gathered below us, waiting for something. ¡°I think they''re having a meeting.¡± Matthew peers over the railing, moving his head in every direction like an owl looking for prey. ¡°Or maybe they¡¯re plotting their escape,¡± I deadpan. Matthew shoves my arm and I quickly sneer in his direction. I drop it when I see him smile at me, a playful light almost reflective against his lake blue eyes. ¡°Oh, calm down. They couldn¡¯t escape from this place even if they wanted to.¡± He smiles coyly, reminding me of a snake, and looks back down to the crowd below us. ¡°Let¡¯s figure out what the gathering''s about.¡± The grown man before me practically runs down the grated pathway like an excited child. I look in awe as he makes it to the other side of the floor and looks back at me. He beckons me with the wave of his hand and opens the door. I shake my head and walk briskly to him. He lets me pass him through the door and we both head down the metal stairs into the room. I take a silent sigh of relief as warm air coats me and melts the stubborn remains of snow into my clothes. The room is rather large. The floor is cold stone and the walls are the same. Cold tables would be sitting at the back end of the room adjacent to the stairs for people to sit and eat. A counter is on the right hand side where cafeteria workers make their digested slug for their needs. Even vampires and other blood sucking creatures like some daemons are forced to take part. It looks dreary to anyone who''s entered here. I mean, most are stuck here for the rest of their life anyway so the glum represents their situation. Only the worst of the worst, the unfit, make it into this prison. It¡¯s surprising some of those who are too dangerous to be let out are in the same ranks as me if they behave well enough. Well, it would make sense actually considering my history. As we both make it down to the landing, we are greeted by a demanding tone. ¡°Don¡¯t make me ask again,¡± screams a feminine voice. I take another look at the crowd and note that many are semi circled around a guard. I also notice that not only are the regular prisoners here, but the unredeemed ones as well. So that would explain the lack of screaming. Unredeemed prisoners are usually punished regularly to make up for the mass murders they are accused with or them attempting to go against the prison itself. Many could stay here for a couple of months and each permanent scar or missing limb is a life they¡¯ve stolen before. Some stay here for months while others years before dying eventually from the injuries as punishment. I notice recently punished prisoners, blood still seeping through their recent wounds, along with some other guards speckled on the outer rim of them. They look as confused as us. I tense at the feeling of my palm sting and realize I¡¯ve been clutching the wound there for some time. I dare not take a peek but notice more warmth soaking the bandage even more. I curse this condition I¡¯m born in¡­ ¡°Hey!¡± I hear Matthew shout and spin around at him practically screaming in my ear. I give him an irritated look but he ignores me and points. ¡°You¡¯re breaking the code of anonymity! I demand you to come here and face punishment immediately!¡± His voice deepens in his commanding tone. I¡¯m almost surprised his voice can get any lower than it is. ¡°The fuck is this?!¡± I quickly turn back to see the culprit of this gathering. The guard that¡¯s surrounded is helmetless, boring a face of what I guess is anger. She glares back at us. Her face is almost bat-like though not exactly. She has the smushed nose of a vampire bat but her face is rather human looking besides the four red-tinted eyes piercing at us. Her skin is dark and her long, tangled hair is silvery against the light fading into the room above her. ¡°Is she really a she?¡± I look at Matthew and nod my head towards her. His eyes stay plastered, once again ignoring my existence. He marches past me, in front of the onlookers and waves his hand dismissively. ¡°Take these prisoners back to their cells, now.¡± He didn¡¯t have to yell. The anger in the command was as clear as the fear in the guards¡¯ eyes. They immediately took charge and gathered the prisoners back up the stairs. Some prisoners struggle against them but one quick jab or kick shuts most of it down immediately. The only one left stands the woman. She stands on top of a table. Her shoulders are hunched and her back is raised as if she¡¯s about to attack. Her arms are spread from her side as her shaking hands are clenched in fists. She growls, ¡°how dare you step into here and take away my prisoners? Do you even know what they did?¡± She jumps from the table and steps towards him, looking to explode. I can almost see the steam from where I stand, which is near the entrance of the room. Matthew and the woman meet in the middle. The battle of the furies will be glorious! Matthew doesn¡¯t bat an eye at her rage. Instead he holds up his hand directly in her face, meeting her ravenous gaze. ¡°Please tell me your name, guardsman.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the point of it anyway?¡± She slaps his hand away. He glares at her as his hand falls back to his side. ¡°You won¡¯t even hear what I have to say! I have a reason for this! They stole from me! I-¡° ¡°Name.¡± His voice lowers to a threatening tone. It would send shivers down anyone¡¯s spine, even my own. I eye him curiously. Who is this guy? I know he¡¯s Kava¡¯s son and all but how could I have not noticed him in all my years here. He couldn¡¯t have been here for that long, could he? ¡°No,¡± she snarls, which snaps me from my thoughts. ¡°Just because you¡¯re new doesn¡¯t mean you can just boss me around! I¡¯m your senior-¡° I don¡¯t even see it. The woman doubles over in a breathless cry. Her dark face turns purple and her sharp teeth are clenched in pain. She tries to regain her stance but Matthew quickly grabs her by the hair and pulls her up to meet his gaze. ¡°Name, please.¡± ¡°Sha,¡± she groans. ¡°Okay, Sha, do you understand the punishment you¡¯re about to receive for releasing your code of anonymity and going against your higher ranking officer?¡± Anger is rejuvenated back in her eyes as she opens her mouth to speak. I watch in surprise at the quickness of it all. He touches the middle of her forehead with just an index finger. Her body practically implodes. A blue fire engulfs her and I watch as she silently screams for forgiveness. It doesn¡¯t take long for the condensed flame to take hold and reduce her to a black stain in the cement floor. No ash or smoke to be seen. She is being sent away to be judged. It¡¯s one of the few times I¡¯ve seen it. It¡¯s not common but it¡¯s not rare either. No one really knows what happens to those who are sent, and only the higher ranking guards are able to send others to this in-between realm. All we know is that those people are eventually killed and never to be seen again. I whistle. ¡°Wow, nice. You didn¡¯t even have to hear what she was going to say,¡± I joke. Matthew turns to me and shrugs. The cold anger went as fast as lightning. I almost clapped my hand for him at the sudden change of mood. How can this guy be jolly one second and be scary mad the next? This guy is full of oddities. ¡°Alright, enough of that,¡± he sighs. He meets my eyes with his. A confident gleam dances on the surface. ¡°How old are you, Dog?¡± ¡°For you? Wolf if we¡¯re trying to get along,¡± I correct. ¡°Thirty.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± He places his hand on his chin as if in thought. He then walks towards me. ¡°Thirty,¡± he mumbles. ¡°I was five when I saw you come in. Guess what that makes me now?¡± ¡°Twenty-three?¡± I look at him credulously. ¡°I would have thought you were older.¡± ¡°Right?¡± I hear mischief in his voice and again I wonder where that scary, commanding man went. ¡°Well, no. I became a higher guardsman two years ago.¡± ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± ¡°A test. You¡¯ve been here long enough to know, and I don¡¯t like keeping secrets.¡± He stops there. One word breeches my thoughts more than anything. Know what? I look at him quizzingly and it seems we search each other for a glimpse if either of us know what that means. Fuck if I know. He sighs, ¡°you haven¡¯t been thinking I was the sole person watching you this whole time. I was twelve when you were nineteen. I recently became a guard at twenty-one, which is why that daemon wanted a piece of me.¡± ¡°Okay, yeah, makes sense, but why are we having this conversation here?¡± I make a big wave of my arms to gesture at the open recess area around us. No one is present at the moment but you would never know if someone is eavesdropping in the nearby halls. ¡°I can take you to my office,¡± he suggests. ¡°Yeah,¡± I grumble. ¡°To talk about who has been watching me these last eighteen years? Sounds like a pointless conversation to me.¡± ¡°What¡¯s with the sudden change of attitude?¡± He narrows his eyes at me. ¡°I saved your ass. If I hadn¡¯t been there, one of the Council would have seen you instead, and sent you back to their court as soon as they saw you kill that man.¡± He doesn¡¯t raise his voice but the annoyance is clear. I shudder at the idea and mentally slap myself. ¡°Well, thank you, if that¡¯s what you want to hear.¡± ¡°No.¡± He shakes his head. He begins to whisper, ¡°I¡¯m here to warn you. The only reason I¡¯m here is to cover your ass. Mo- Kava gave me this position to protect you.¡± ¡°Anything special,¡± I ask. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m not sure if Kava told you but the Council wants any excuse to take you away from her. They want control over you. So when we get to your trial, let me do the talking. I¡¯m your only way out.¡± Not surprising. They¡¯ve been on my ass since I was whisked away by Kava. They only want me back to control me, because they are scared. Scared of me going feral again and killing their precious citizens and maybe turning against them. I don¡¯t understand how Kava got away with keeping me as her little pet and not getting exiled right then and there. Well, if she kept Matthew a secret for so long, would it really be that hard for her? Sure, I¡¯ll let him do the talking. It would only make the most sense considering they don¡¯t favor me and probably don¡¯t know that Matthew is connected to Kava since he¡¯s not a clear magick user. If he¡¯s a magick user. ¡°Alright, I get it. Can I take a shower now?¡± I can still feel the dried blood stick uncomfortably against my skin and I really want to clean the wound in my hand before an infection sets in. He nods. ¡°Yeah, do that.¡± He walks past me and back up the stairs. He opens the door to the windy, cold air outside. I feel irritation bubble to the surface almost suddenly at the annoyance of the situation and turn to him as he exits the room. ¡°Why do you care anyway?¡± I blurt out. He doesn¡¯t look at me but I can see his shoulders slouch at the sound of my voice. He stands there halfway out the door and mutters, ¡°Because Kava cares.¡± And then he¡¯s gone. My stomach growls. Part Two Meat! Meat! Meat! The thought forces me out of my dreamless sleep. I shoot out of bed and sit up. The wound in my palm is festering. Red, hot, squirming. I feel the urge to gag but know it¡¯s all in my head. My body sweats for attention, the heat climbing up my arms, making my shoulders burn with anticipation. My legs shaking from the raw adrenaline, preparing itself for a hunt. I need flesh! My inferior body cannot survive without a constant source of energy which is fresh blood, and meat. It doesn¡¯t help that I have this wound on my hand, making me want to eat sooner than normally. I look at the door. I can see it clearly in the dark, empty room. Only things in here are me, my futon, and my folded clothes next to me, which I tossed across the floor when I shot up. I stand up, my legs trembling. They are cold and hot, switching back and forth and sometimes both. They ache as I stumble across the floor and open the door. I¡¯m greeted by the empty, dark, stone hallway. Only lanterns'' lights dance shadows over the walls and floor. I take a bare step onto the concrete floor, the coldness of it standing no chance against the feverish skin on my soles. The air is cold but yet does nothing against my screaming, hot flesh. I feel pools of sweat meet the floor as I step clumsily down the hall, trying my best not to look up. If I find a living being, they¡¯re dead. I must keep my head to the floor otherwise I¡¯m not sure what might happen. I don¡¯t want to get into any more trouble with the Council than I already have. Tracey, the thought invades my mind before I can swipe it away in time. He tasted so wonderful. The warmth of his flesh against my tongue as I gouged out a piece of his torso. His sweet scent coating my nose and blood pouring into my throat. I need more! More! More! I slam my head against the wall. I immediately cry out in pain at the sudden jerk, but at least it stops my thoughts. It also helps me ignore the throbbing coursing through me as a headache begins crawling at the side of my skull. I need to make it to Kava¡¯s office. Or, I could eat one of the Unredeemed. The thought does not sound unappealing and it would be easier. They need to pay for their crimes anyway. Why not kill them? It would be a mercy. I stumble into the corridor that led into the torture chambers. The sweet smell of fear and blood pollutes my nose. I feel a wave of euphoria and quicken my pace to the next corridor. The metal door in front of me looms almost like a treasure trove. Excitement grips me and I rush to the door, nearly falling into it. A bang of metal resounds in the hall as I hit my face against it. I bite my tongue. ¡°Hey, you okay there?¡± I hear someone call on the other side. My heart floods into my throat and I try several times to gulp it down. Sweet copper is in my mouth and its taste refuses to leave. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I groan against the cold metal door. It feels refreshing against my festering skin. My hands shake as I reach for the code to open it. It beeps and I lean on the door as it opens for balance. I almost fall on the floor as I enter the room. The guard in front me catches me mid fall and allows me to lean against his arm. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re alright? Oh, my god!¡± He suddenly gasps. The concern is evident but above all that, the overwhelmingly scent of warm flesh evaporates every shred of human thought. Fear bursts in the air and I feel my skin tingling to be released. I hold myself back though and remember why I¡¯m here. The prisoners. One of them would be a good snack to hold back my urges. I feel the man shiver as if sensing my bloodlust and push me back. I don¡¯t make eye contact and keep my frenzied gaze to the floor. It¡¯s so clear now. I noticed the scuff marks, the dried splatters of blood and other bodily fluids. The dark, moldy splotches etched into the cement are now so vivid. Almost everything looks enhanced in detail. ¡°Take me to one of the prisoners,¡± I croak. ¡°What?¡± The man nearly sputters. ¡°Why? It¡¯s late. Did one of them do something wrong?¡± ¡°Just take me to them!¡± Irritation takes hold and my fingers, now claws, grip his arms, finally looking at the petrified guard. His green eyes glisten with fear and I watch his legs tense in a run. It excites me. I changed my mind. ¡°You just might do,¡± I growl. ¡°Please, let go of me,¡± he whimpers. I feel a heavy grip push on my shoulder and spin me around. The guard behind me yelps and the smell of blood invades the room. I nearly spin around to catch him but a hand grips my neck before I can get a chance. I grab the arm holding me and dig my claws into them. I¡¯m met with a hard punch in the stomach and glare wildly at azure blue eyes. ¡°The hell are you doing, Wolf?!¡± The panicked tapping of feet rush behind me but so does the strong smell of blood. I see a glimpse of the man and kick out at the person holding me. ¡°Let me go,¡± I snap. Meat! Meat! He looks past me as I kick at him. Confusion racks my brain as I struggle against his iron grip. I reach up with my hand and punch his sternum. He doubles over for merely a second but doesn¡¯t give. I claw at him but he moves his head back to dodge it. I try to punch him again, aiming for his head, but he grabs my wrist and pulls it to his chest. I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my neck and try to turn but he has my neck locked in position. I feel my grip against him loosen. The world fades as I fight for consciousness. Everything fades to black. *** It¡¯s quiet. Painless. I feel a tugging motion on my neck and open my eyes.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. It¡¯s bright and I blink a few times so that my eyes can adjust to the surroundings near me. A shadow hovers above me suddenly and I immediately sit up, my head knocking against something hard. I hear a thud as the figure falls back. I look in the direction of the noise only to see darkness. The only thing present in the light is me and- Wait, what happened last night? The only thing I remember is walking down to halls in search of food. Then the guard I attacked¡­ Did I kill someone? It¡¯s hard to touch my memory of what happened. I try to stand up, immediately recognizing I¡¯m still in my pajamas. I feel something yank me to the ground at my neck. I cough as my butt hits the floor and touch my throat to tug at¡­ A collar? It¡¯s made of metal as I feel around it. I try to push my head down, but the thickness of the collar presses on my chin uncomfortably. It prevents me from looking at the thing. I reach around my neck and feel a chain connected to it. I turn around to a crawl and look behind me to find the chain trailing into the darkness. I begin to follow the trail when I hear a faint shuffling behind me. I quickly spin around to see blue eyes glaring at me from the unknown. Blue eyes. I remember now. Matthew suppressed me. Why wasn¡¯t it obvious before? To the Hells, how could I let myself do that? I¡¯m better than that. Maybe it was the stress of the Council, or maybe my lack of self control? Good thing Matthew was there to snap me out of it before anything bad could happen. I sigh, ¡°are you going to punish me? Is that what the chain is for?¡± Usually Kava wouldn¡¯t chain me like this. Instead she¡¯d use a potion laced dart to knock me out. That¡¯s what she probably used when I killed Tracey. Then, she would give me a lecture. It only happened twice and this is how it went so far. This time it¡¯s different. Matthew might be another case. The stern, angry looks in his eyes tells that much. Maybe he¡¯ll torture me? Like the others. I shiver and repress the feeling immediately. Surely he can¡¯t be like the old Council. That¡¯s a ridiculous thought. I¡¯m not there anymore. I take a deep breath and try my best to not let fear creep in. ¡°It was to hold you back in case you feel like taking a chunk out of me,¡± he grumbles, tilting his head to the collar around my throat. ¡°I can¡¯t let you go until I¡¯m sure. Are you hungry right now?¡± ¡°No.¡± I look at my hand and see the wound still present. The bandage is gone and I can see the open wound sitting there, refusing to heal. Blood still pools from it but not as much as before. So that means I didn¡¯t eat anyone. The bleeding would have stopped otherwise. The hunger is gnawing at me, too, but less noticeable. Less painful. What else did they give me? I look at him and open my mouth to speak but he raises his hand before I can let out a word. ¡°So, how does this lycan-strigoi thing work? Are you more of a dog or a living blood sucker?¡± I pause. ¡°Neither,¡± I sigh. ¡°Why do you need to know?¡± His face twitches. ¡°So I know what to give you. That man you attacked is injured because of you. You went straight through his arm when I grabbed you. An unnecessary violence that I would like to correct.¡± Frustration lingers in his voice but he keeps it steady, as if trying not to break. To yell. ¡°I want to know so that I can give it to you before you murder someone. And ¡®neither¡¯ is concerning to hear.¡± I nod slowly in understanding. ¡°I need human flesh. Blood and all. I''m more of a ghoul than a strigoi.¡± While Lycans can eat anything, like humans, they also need raw meat in their diet too so that they don¡¯t get weakened. Humans work but animals are better. Strigoi needs human blood. They may be born between a vampire and a human but they cannot eat what humans eat. They take after their vampire part more, besides being able to be out in the sun without the UVs melting their skin off. Hybrids like me need human flesh. I can derive off of supernaturals but only a select few and they don¡¯t feed me as much as humans do. I am a special case after all. I¡¯m the very few that survived death from my conceiving and lived to tell the tale. I can go without a week of eating if I had a full human for dinner. If I¡¯m injured, a few days. Supernatural meat, like Tracey, will only last a day, and I can¡¯t heal from my injuries off them, not completely. They¡¯re close but not close enough. They¡¯re practically a snack. ¡°I may be able to provide. How did Kava do it?¡± ¡°She sent human death row inmates here¡­¡± I trail off, not wanting to go into detail. ¡°They have been really low lately. Not many people are committing atrocities right now, I guess.¡± He nods. ¡°Seems that way. I knew Kava had a stash but it¡¯s been empty recently. She never really tells me what she gave you.¡± His eyes widened for a second before returning to that cold stare. ¡°Is that why you ate Tracey?¡± I blink, thinking about it. Yeah, most likely. I haven¡¯t been fed in a minute prior. I¡¯ve been mostly starving since yesterday. But I still had some self control, I just gave into it for a minute is all. That¡¯s no excuse to do it though. ¡°Yeah,¡± I huff. ¡°It was still a bad move on my part,¡± I admit. ¡°It was,¡± he agrees, eyeing me. ¡°I¡¯ll get that for you if I can. Might have to use one of the fresh corpses from the torture chambers.¡± ¡°Supernaturals will only last a day,¡± I advise him. He shuffles into the darkness behind him. ¡°At least it will hold you off. There¡¯s a few corpses I can give you. May not last long enough for your assessment though. Sit tight, please.¡± ¡°Well I can¡¯t do anything else!¡± I call back to him as he disappears. I don¡¯t even hear a door shut behind him before he¡¯s gone. *** It doesn¡¯t take him long to come back. I lay on the floor tugging mindlessly at the chain. I can tell the cement is cold but it doesn¡¯t bother me. It is uncomfortable to lay on unfortunately. I hear the shuffling of feet and sit up at the hint of blood. It¡¯s not fresh but it¡¯s enough to allow my stomach to grumble. I crawl at the edge of the darkness. A leg is slid across the floor. A crusty, bloody, residue is on the end of what was supposedly snapped off. I touch it to find that it¡¯s cold and recoil slightly. Still, I stomach it and take a bite out of the thigh. It¡¯s gummy but it works. Well, I think that as I nearly gag anyway. It only takes a few minutes to finish my little snack. I begin to pick the skin from my teeth as I wait for a comment in the darkness. Matthew¡¯s voice echoes, ¡°Will that do you today?¡± I nod solemnly, kind of disappointed with the morsel I was given. ¡°Yeah, for a few hours.¡± I see him appear before me. He still hesitates to come any closer into the light as he regards me skeptically. ¡°I would have gotten you more but the rest was butchered and exposed for the maggots.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ll let you know when I¡¯m going to lose it.¡± I wave him off. He shrugs and walks up to me. I noticed for a moment how bloody his hands were. From the look and smell, they came from the corpse he brought me. I recoil at the sight of the congealed, dark, crusty blood on his once pristine black fur gloves. He reaches to his side for his keys and takes his hand around my collar. I scrunch my nose and bite my lip to not comment. He unlocks my collar and I hear a sharp clink! as it falls to the floor in front of me. He flinches away from me as I reach for my neck, feeling my broken raw skin. This is another thing that won¡¯t heal until I get proper food. I sigh and stand up. I realize I¡¯m the same height as him as we stand face to face. He still regards me with suspicion as he eyes me up and down. ¡°You¡¯re strong, you know that?¡± He begins to chortle, ¡°caught me a few bruises from all the squirming you were doing.¡± I shake my head at the pained smile climbing on his face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that. I didn¡¯t know what I was thinking.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll just be sure to not mess with you when you¡¯re mad,¡± he laughs silently. Worry still brims his eyes and I feel a sense of guilt build up in me. I try my best to lighten the mood. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t give you something to remember me by if I do,¡± I smile. I can feel it falter and I frown immediately. ¡°Won¡¯t?¡± I can see the question twinkle in his eyes. I shrug, ignoring him. ¡°So what do you want to do with me now?¡± ¡°You¡¯re going back on guard duty, of course.¡± I deflate and give him a questionable glare. ¡°Really? After I kill a guard and nearly rip off another''s arm?¡± The light in his eyes flicker. ¡°I will put a muzzle on you if I have to.¡± The air in the room suddenly grows tense. I meet his hard gaze and nod in agreement. ¡°You might as well,¡± I sneer. I can almost see the sadistic grin under his mask. ¡°I¡¯m prepared.¡± I can hear the amusement bubble in his throat. I quirk my brow at him in a silent question. ¡°Follow me.¡± He begins to walk into the darkness. I follow closely behind him and squint my eyes, hoping they would adjust. They don¡¯t and I sigh in disappointment. We meet at what I suppose is a hidden wall as he carrasses something in front of him. There¡¯s a sharp klink! A door-size light appears before us. I almost shriek at the sudden sting in my eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not a muzzle exactly, but a potion,¡± Matthew says as he passes through the entrance. I follow him into the light and am hit by the familiar hallways. I blink several times to dissipate the holes from my vision. I look both ways and notice I¡¯m close to the torture chambers. Was this another torture room I didn¡¯t know about? I look behind me and see the stone wall facing me. No one told me about this? ¡°Hey, you coming?¡± Matthew¡¯s head peeks around the corridor towards the torture cells. ¡°Yes,¡± I grumble and trudge behind him. ¡°What was that place?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s the new interrogation room. They use it on the Unredeemed.¡± He answers nonchalantly. ¡°I see,¡± I frown. ¡°They never told me about it.¡± ¡°Why would they? You only guard the perimeters, right? You¡¯re not in charge of the prisoners.¡± I squint my eyes at him and see him shiver slightly as if he feels my gaze. ¡°I monitor some prisoners,¡± I grumble. ¡°Oh really? How many?¡± He barely turns his head to me but curiosity is felt in his voice. ¡°A few dangerous ones. Worth a fight.¡± ¡°So you help break their spirits, hm? Curious. But what else? Just that? Sounds more like they call you to handle the stubborn ones rather than guard them.¡± My lips thins at the observation but I try not to show any expression that would give away my mistake. ¡°Right.¡± I hear him laugh. He leads me down more hallways and into a room. The place is rather small and all the contents are behind a dark oak desk in the center and some shelves. Not as pleasingly aesthetic like Kava¡¯s office. He goes to one of the shelves behind the desk and grabs a brown glass bottle without a label. ¡°This should do.¡± He turns to me with a twinkle in his eyes and twiddles the bottle above his head. ¡°Would you like a drink or an injection?¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather drink,¡± I tell him. I subconsciously rubbed the back of my neck. ¡°Suit yourself.¡± He walks over to me, tiptoeing around the room. He hands the bottle. I don¡¯t think twice as I open it and guzzle it in one go. A foul taste wafts onto my tongue and into my nose. I cough and try not to throw back up the mixture. It tastes too strong of skunk and musk and I¡¯d hate to know whatever ingredients this was made from. I hear Matthew snicker in front of me as I blink the water forming into my eyes. ¡°I was going to say it would¡¯ve been better to take the needle,¡± he chuckles. ¡°Too late now.¡± I cough, ¡°whatever.¡± I lift my helmet and spit in front of him, the foul taste only spreading on my tongue. His laughing eyes widened in horror. I wait patiently for him to calm down before asking, ¡°What exactly does that do anyway?¡± ¡°Suppresses your hunger,¡± he simply replies, still recovering. ¡°For how long?¡± He shrugs and I roll my eyes at how common it is now. ¡°Long enough,¡± he winks. ¡°Just let me know when you get The Urge, okay?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I mumble, unamused. ¡°Now off you go. Back to patrol duty!¡± He waves at me and when I only blink at him, pushes me out the door. ¡°What do I patrol?¡± ¡°Your last coordinates,¡± he answers. He stands at the door as I give him a questioning look. ¡°No partner, old man. You¡¯re the big bad wolf. You got this,¡± he winks. Yeah, that¡¯s reassuring. Where¡¯s the stern commander again? ¡°Right,¡± I responded. ¡°I¡¯ll see you.¡± ¡°Good luck,¡± he nearly shouts and closes the door. ¡°Also, don¡¯t forget your gear in your room.¡± He looks at me up and down. I sigh and turn to face the hallway. Just my luck.