ELI
First-time killers are always easy to spot.
They just can't mask their guilt and anxiety.
Their eyes are always darting, like they're trying to escape the voices in their own heads.
The denial comes first—"I didn't do it. What are you talking about?"
Then the excuse. Always something pathetic, like "It was an accident" or "I didn't mean to."
They forget the dead don't care about intentions.
I've seen it so many times.
The shaking hands. The twitch in their jaw. The way they look over their shoulder when no one's there.
Guilt is loud. You can't just get over it quickly—until you kill your second, third, fourth, and more victims.
Kaleb hasn't called about the girl he wants me to partner with so while waiting at the cage house and trying to bring every piece of information I have gathered about the recent incidents together, I met this pretty little murderer.
The girl in Cell 6 gives me too many clues before I decide to read her darkest thoughts by engaging her in a conversation.
'My uncle deserved his death.' She has repeated that so much in her head that I wonder why it hasn't exploded yet.
"Why are you staring at me and smiling like a freaking psycho?"
I shake my head with a knowing gaze. Because, she doesn't know I'm not like a psycho. I just don't pretend not to be one.
Her hand walks through her beautiful red hair as she bangs her head on the iron rod again and again.
Since she won't disclose her name, should I call her Red instead? She doesn't seem to like cupcakes.
I hold my hands out over the rod to prevent her head from hitting it directly. For some reason, I don't want her to hurt herself.
"Let me guess," I say with a light voice. "You're a vampire and that was your first kill?"
She doesn't answer. She just watches me
silently and then begins to bang her head again.
Damn, those eyes—soft, confused, and angry all at once.
There's a bit of innocence there too, which suggests that it wasn't murder but manslaughter.
Still. She killed someone.
"Or was it your first spell?" I continue, smiling. "You said the wrong words, and poof—uncle's neck goes snap?"
I chuckle while she rubs her hands together. The cold from the air conditioner is finally hitting her. It's one of their torture methods—to reduce the temperature so much that it could freeze you to death.
Now this is her most vulnerable state. I try to read her hidden thoughts one more time, but I can't get in.
Oh my fucking goodness. It's like she just shut me out. How the hell is she doing that?
"On a serious note. Are you a witch? Do you use black magic?" I ask.
I mean, that's the only explanation. But if she is a witch, she wouldn't be sent to this particular cage house. Witches have a special one made for them—with magic-nullifying spells.
"How long will I be stuck here with a total lunatic? Who told you vampires and witches are real?"
"You've got to be kidding me. You're human and you hate humans? Tell me a better joke!"
"Please just keep quiet, please," she says. I can feel her frustration, her tiredness. She probably hasn't rested in hours, judging by the way her eyes move.
I extend my hand slowly and touch her soft, dyed red hair. Wasn't she told that dyeing hair is not allowed here?
"Can I show you something?"
"What exactly do you plan to show me when you're locked up here with me? Your dick?"
"Oh, come on... I can show you that if you want."
Her mouth opens, and her tongue pushes slightly forward—she's cringing away from me.
I hold the padlock on my cell door, drag it down slightly, and it opens instantly. I do the same with her door, and her mouth drops open again.
It's so exciting seeing someone so curious about me.
"Shall we?"
"Yeah..." The shock causes her words to wedge in her throat.
She stands slowly, hesitant, her bare feet making no sound on the cold floor. Her eyes flick to the hallway, then back to me.
"How... how did you do that?"
I tap my temple lightly. "You're asking the wrong questions, girl."
She crosses her arms. "Fine. Then what's the right one?"
I smirk. "Do you want to get out of here, or do you want to stay and freeze to death?"
Her jaw clenches. Then, finally, she nods.
"Good choice." I push the door open fully, and then step aside like a gentleman. "Ladies first."
She walks past me, brushing against my shoulder.
We move silently through the dim corridor.
I lead her to a heavy steel door at the end of the hallway. With a swift motion, I input a code into the keypad, and the door clicks open.
Inside, the room is stark, illuminated by a single overhead bulb. A metal table stands in the center, surrounded by various instruments and files I have neatly arranged.
I look around again, making sure no one has entered.
She hesitates for a moment, her eyes scanning the room.
"Welcome to my workspace," I say, gesturing for her to enter.
She steps in cautiously, her gaze lingering on the array of tools.
"What is this place?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Like I said, it's my workplace."
"Didn't you say you are a student here?"
"Yes, I am. Hope Kendrick, is it?"
I finally get her name. The system scans every everyone that enters this room and shows me their full identity. I still can't believe I've been engaging the same Hope Kendrick Kaleb talked about.
He must have had a broom in his eyes when he said she was nerdy and ugly.
"How did you know my name all if a sudden"
"I have my ways. Cupcake. You see, whatever was responsible for that girl's suicide is something we all are working on. Countless students have been killed by this particular monster, whom I'm assuming is a shape-shifter."
"Oh my fucking goodness! Shape shifters are real?"
"You seem not to know about a lot of things. But you will soon enough. I'm playing a game with the other Alphas. We are to choose a partner, and I am here reaching out to you, Hope Kendrick. Will you be my partner?"