The snap seems to be holding my balance together as well, because I fall from my knees onto the floor, like a dead woman. I actually might die at this moment. My vision fades out into white. I see the light. At the center of my sight lies a green dot, like one of those spirit things you see in cheap fantasy movies. It zips around, as if gesturing for me to follow it.

  I look down at my hands. I can still see my limbs, yet I feel nothing.

  I reach out to the little dot, and it dodges my fingertips by a hair.

  I don’t think I’m in my body anymore. I look around, only seeing an endless stretch of white. Nothing else but that little green dot. I have no choice, apparently.

  I take a step, although it’s shaky. I’m a child learning to walk in this new world for the first time. Two steps is all I manage to take before I collapse again. I brace for the sting of my knees hitting the ground. It never comes.

  I look up, eyes fixating on the green. I have to retrieve it somehow.

  Despite myself, I find the strength to rise to my feet.

  With a burst of speed and confidence, I reach the dot, and encase it into my left hand. The dot spreads and expands. It’s warm, and comforting? The first feeling I’ve had since I was trapped in this little white prison. For once in these past few days, the color white is not constraining, but freeing.

  The green. I see it in my veins, starting from my hand and spreading throughout my fingertips. Once it’s completed its conquest in my hand, the green spreads up my arm. It leaves a warm, soulful trail wherever it makes its gentle caresses.

  I notice I’m gaining feeling wherever the light touches. I take a piece of my wrist’s skin into my fingers and squeeze softly. It stings a bit. Wow. I’m not numb. I wish I could have been numb with all of that damn torture, but you get what you get, I guess.

  The light spreads faster, until it reaches the crown of my head. I swear I could fly.

  An aggressive tug to my hair snaps me out of the white, and into the real world. Unfortunately.

  I slowly turn around to see who it is, a random lady that had somehow gotten into my locked cell.

  I glance around. What is this green light? It’s tinting everything in my sight.

  ‘You were getting all possessed and shit,’ she rolls her eyes before making a move towards the door.

  My hand outstretched of its own accord. The woman falls to the ground, gasping. I can see the green inside her as well. It starts to escape from the core of her stomach, rising to her chest, and eventually up her throat. The second that light leaves her, she collapses onto her stomach, eyes rolling back up into her head. What the hell did I just do?

  The light floats around my palm, as if responding to my command. I flick two fingers up, it follows. I hear its voice, but it doesn’t speak to me, I don’t think.

  ‘Stupid job… just one more paycheck and I’m leaving this place…’

  Well, it won’t have to work anymore.

  I crush the little light in my palm, watching as it shatters into the liquid of light that flows everywhere in the room.

  My gaze slowly turns toward Quinn’s lifeless body, still pinned up on the wall. I squint, and that same little green light shows up inside their core as well. I approach the body and touch their stomach, right where the light lies. I can feel the life inside. The amount of power I suddenly wield overwhelms me. If I truly wanted to, I could just…

  Take their souls away from them.

  I run my finger from Quinn’s stomach to their heart. My entire hand joins that one finger. Like that little light expanded inside of me, could I do the same to Quinn?

  I’m decently sure whatever that little light was in the white was my soul. Whatever I can do to mine, I can do to Quinn’s.

  My palm opens up on their heart. The soul shatters inside of their body after a tiny bit of expansion. Shit. Shit shit shit.

  My eyes blow wide open as I vaguely hear the sound of a heartbeat. What the fuck have I done?

  I practically leap back, completely and utterly bewildered.

  They can’t be alive. There’s a small pond forming beneath them with the blood that’s been drained from their body. The green light spreads through their body, but it doesn’t feel right. I can’t explain why, but something is just off.

  Quinn’s eyes open. They’re bloodshot, but definitely open and unmistakably theirs. They glance around the room; I can practically taste the fear.

  Their fingers twitch on the wall, still unable to move.

  I spin around and scan the room. It’s on the ground, I spot.

  I pick up the piece of paper and write on it.

  ‘Do you want to be taken down?’

  Quinn sees the paper, I know that. They aren’t quite processing it though. The gears are in there, but the power source has been shut off, I suppose.

  I set down the paper once I realize it isn’t doing anything to help, and I begin to approach them again. Slowly, as if trying to gain a scared animal’s trust.

  I’m right up close to their face now. Quinn’s eyes dart around in pure terror, but the rest of their body doesn’t move. I wonder why this is. I poke their arm, yet the muscle doesn’t twitch.

  Hm.

  I put my ear up to their chest, listening for anything peculiar. What the hell? There’s no heartbeat, so how are their eyes moving? I kneel down and listen near their navel now.

  It’s a complete freakout. Their voice is inside their stomach? Interesting.

  I should just put them out of their misery though. Quinn sounds deeply scared, and I have a feeling they’d live forever like this, since there’s no heartbeat yet their soul lives on.

  As I think of doing this, the light immediately spills from Quinn’s lips, rendering them a corpse again. I should apologize, but they just helped me quite a bit.

  I can use this in so many different ways.

  ?

  A wicked grin spreads across my face as my gaze turns toward the cell door. I step towards it. My foot steps onto something that cracks. I look down in disdain. Oh. I forgot that body was there as well.

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  I kick it out of my way with a sneer and continue my journey. I’m not going to let some insignificant object get in my way.

  Now.

  Where the hell is Kyle?

  Oh well. I guess I’m going to have to go around and ask.

  I leave the left hall, since I know for a fact he isn’t here. He isn’t an inmate, therefore he doesn’t live here. I wonder if he’d gone home for the night. Doubt it.

  I’m lost in my thoughts. There are so many ways to kill him now! I can’t wait to make him pay.

  Further down the right hallway, I spot a little corner with a door that reads: “Staff Quarters”. This must be it.

  My hand touches the doorknob, cold and metal. I twist. Locked. Goddamnit. I step back and stomp like a petulant child. Seriously?

  I turn it again, and again, until my hand is a flurry of twists and frustration. Ugh!

  Oh wait.

  I turn to my right and see a little table with a basket on top of it. Someone had left their key outside. Dumbass. I take the key and spin the ring on my fingers. The metal is cool, soothing for my heated skin. Stop fooling around; you have a job to do.

  I place the key into the lock. It doesn’t fit? You have to be shitting me. I try the next key. Okay, this one fits like Cinderella’s slipper. I turn the lock, listening for the click. The door opens, but creaks. I can’t have that. I quickly stop the door from opening, yet peek inside. I don’t hear any movements, or stirring. I think I’m okay for now.

  Slowly, yet surely, I push the door open. It’s torturous, worse than the actual torture that I have to be sneaky and slow about this. What I really want to do is get my revenge as fast as possible, let the whole world know that I hate this man.

  Hate is an understatement, actually. More like loathing.

  I slip inside the crevice, and into the quarters. There’s a common room, which I assume is the room I’m in. There are three couches in a circle, and a coffee table in the center. From the corner of my eye, I spot a fridge. Wow. I haven’t seen one of those in a while. My mouth waters, anticipating what’s inside.

  A little thievery can’t hurt, right? I haven’t eaten proper food in a week…

  I walk on the balls of my feet, silent as a mouse. I open up the fridge. There are so many drinks! And there’s actual food! A salad lay on the top shelf, just begging for me to have a taste. I snatch that salad faster than any bullet train, and open it up. My nose is magnetized towards the delicious scent of freshness. I don’t even bother with a fork, instead sticking my entire face into the bowl. I feel like a goddamn animal, but this is worth any amount of dehumanizing.

  I don’t think I’ve ever eaten food that fast before. My stomach holds a parade of pure pleasure. I want to melt onto one of the couches all of a sudden.

  I could…

  No. I have a job to get done.

  I shake my head and slap myself a few times. I need to focus.

  I approach a small hallway behind the couches, and peek inside. Goddamnit, it’s dark as hell. I can barely make out the names on the door. Ooh. This is a good lead as to where this fucker might be…

  I stroll through the hallway, reading the various names.

  Isla Johnson…

  I’ll have to go for her after Kyle. That woman made my life hell.

  I don’t quite recognize any of the other names, though.

  Oliver Madison,

  Libby Jackson,

  Evan Brown.

  There it is. My heart jumpstarts, and my grin widens.

  Kyle. Fucking. Smith.

  I can’t laugh. No. Not yet. There could be people that aren’t quite asleep, I don’t want any suspicion placed on me, at least not until he’s dead.

  I open the door, slow and steady. There he is, in all of his ugly glory. It’s funny how even in the dark, I can still see his face perfectly. The evil smirk as he touched me, the way his hair fell in a disgusting, matted mop, and the look in his eyes whenever he looked at me. Like a damn piece of meat.

  Now he’s going to be a piece of meat.

  I close the door behind me, and approach his bed. I’m almost envious, how he gets to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed, while we, us inmates, us creatures, just have to sleep on the damn floor like the animals they make us out to be.

  I run a hand through his hair, and grab. Tugging several locks off of his head. He, of course, wakes up with a start. I cover his mouth.

  I wish I could tell him not to scream. Oh well.

  I scan the room for something to shove down his throat. There’s a few pens on the desk; that could work nicely.

  I take the pens, and he closes his mouth hard. If he isn’t going to scream, that will make it much easier.

  He shakes his head frantically, eyes wide as saucers. My gaze drifts downwards.

  That’s the same thing he used to hurt me. I should hurt it.

  I wind my fist back, and punch.

  Before he cries out in pain, I shove the pens down his throat, making sure they’ll stay. Perfect. Small whimpers leave his lips, utterly powerless. How does it feel, Kyle?

  How. Does. It. Feel?

  Another punch to the dick. He isn’t going to have kids. Well, he wasn’t before, but nobody can fuck his dead corpse now. Because there will be nothing there.

  I take the pocket knife that also lays on his dresser, and kneel.

  I hate to have to touch it, but this is absolutely necessary. I bring the pocket knife up. He wheezes in protest, desperately trying to dislodge the pens from his throat. It won’t work though. I giggle softly as his length falls off. It falls through his pants, and onto the bed beneath him. Wow. He’s bleeding a lot. I can see the tears in his eyes. It’s beautiful. His pathetic attempts at communication are music to my ears.

  My giggles grow in volume. I need him to feel as much pain as humanly–or inhumanly–possible before I eventually kill him.

  There’s a leftover safety pin right next to him. Hm.

  I take the pin, and examine it in between my fingers. I look into his eyes, and see a perfect place for it.

  A safety pin doesn’t belong in the bed. Where else would it go?

  I unclip the pin, and insert it with as much precision as I can. Right into his pupil.

  The blood starts to drip, slowly, then gradually increases, until his entire eye is crimson. Sclera and all. I remove the pin, and do the same for the other eye. Now he can’t see, can’t fuck, and can’t breathe. I’m surprised he hasn’t fallen unconscious yet.

  I spoke too soon. He just fell back onto the bed. Aw. I’ve gotta make this quick. I could get one more thing in… what to do, though.

  Oh right!

  With all the strength I can muster, I punch him directly in the face. Simple and effective.

  I don’t hear a heartbeat anymore. Kyle Smith is dead.

  Eat him.

  I know that voice. That’s the same voice that spoke to me all those years ago, with Heki’s death.

  Eat him.

  Hm. I consider it for a moment. I gaze at his hand. I’ve heard in the past that the palm of the hand tastes the best.

  I take his hand gently, and take a lick.

  Oh. It’s actually not as bad as I was expecting.

  A bite. My teeth sink into the flesh, letting the blood surround my lips.

  My eyes widen. This is surprisingly good. It would be better if it was cooked, though. Another bite. Ouch!

  My hand flies to my jaw. Shit. I must’ve hit a bone. I keep eating, despite myself. I don’t know why I like this so much. It should feel wrong to eat my own kind. No. Kyle isn’t human. This is okay. He’s a monster.

  Eventually, the entire hand has been cleaned off. Just bone. I really like that.

  I really like that.

  I take a bite of his arm. Mmm…

  I groan. This is seriously the best thing I’ve had since I was living in the bunker with Lucas and Xia.

  I drag his body out of the room. I swear I saw a stove next to the fridge. Maybe I could cook him?

  I make it to the kitchen, and cut off Kyle’s arm with the pocket knife, and a ridiculous amount of strength. The arm isn’t all that heavy. I place it on the countertop and cut it into smaller pieces. Is there a pot anywhere? I check the cupboards. Perfect!

  I pull out the pot, not even bothering to be quiet anymore. I’ll boil these pieces, and add some seasoning.

  I hum a soft tune as I cook. This is the best time I’ve probably ever had.

  I vaguely hear the sound of footsteps in the hallway.

  A scream echoes through the entire common room. I turn around slowly. I honestly don't care.

  I wave to the woman who had screamed.

  She looks at the corpse on the ground, then back up at me. Her mouth is open and her eyes are wide in pure fear.

  ‘What…’ she mutters, tears streaming down her face in an instant.

  I shrug, and pour some water into the pot. Several more people come out from their rooms, clearly confused as to what's happening. I spin around again, and revel in the way their faces slowly distort into pure horror and disgust.

  Although I can't speak, I’d like to offer them some of the meat. It's similar to pork in a way, except stronger. More pungent, in a good way, of course.

  One person even faints.

  I feel slightly bad, but not too much. All of these people treated us like animals. Maybe I should show them just how much of an animal I can be.

  All of them should be killed. Especially if they're as terrible as Kyle was.

  Rest in pieces, bitch.