I watched as her eyelids raised slowly to reveal her smooth white pupil-less eyes beneath.  She sat up, startled I presume, and began to look around her. I watched for a moment as those eyes paused on the video camera in the corner of the room before continuing to take in the harsh grey walls surrounding her.
“James, go give 0572 her dosage.” I droned into the intercom. I put my feet up on the desk and leaned back as I pulled my hair into the blue hair tie I kept on my wrist. It had been a long week and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep. I was just about to doze off when suddenly the alarm started wailing. My eyes shot open with panic as I checked the video feed. It was blue and was blinking ‘no connection’.
‘S***! On a Friday too!’ I thought as I pushed back my chair and grabbed both the 45 caliber gun and the yellow stun gun I kept beneath my desk for moments like this. But this had never happened before, and I was afraid.
With shaky knees and clammy hands I ran out of the office, down the hall, up the stairs, and to her cell. I planed my hand on the scanner and the heavy grey door slid open to the white hallway. I rushed down it, worrying that I was too late. My hand flew across the screen, typing in the 32 digit keycode, before the door rumbled open, shaking my trembling bones. I slowly walked inside both guns ready to fire.
She was sitting in the corner. Her head was in her lap and her arms were wrapped around her torso. She was mumbling something in that weird language of hers and was slowly rocking back and forth. The room was clean, James nowhere in sight. I sighed in relief that he was safe. I was about to turn around and leave when I suddenly smelt something sharp. Blood.
“Vanessa?” I asked, using the name that the crew had given her. Her head whipped around towards me and she hissed. I saw the hot, sticky red handprints she had left on her arms and the same stickiness around her fanged mouth. Her black hair was stringy and dripped blood, and the broken video camera rested on the floor in front of her legs. I took all of it in before looking up and making eye contact with her. Immediately I thought ‘I am going to die.’ But then she lifted one long pale hand to her mouth and pulled out a finger, tossing it on the floor in front of me, before turning back around the the broken camera. As she began mumbling and rocking back and forth again I felt myself slowly regain mobility of my body. Nervously I looked down before running out into the sterile white hallway, slamming her door shut, and vomiting. The finger still had our wedding ring on it.