Alice's POV
I sighed, and moved slightly in the dark, empty cell that I was put in. I never, never ever have felt true claustrophobia until now. About the only time I could ever get released from the cell was to use the bathroom, and that was it. I was put into the mental asylum when I was thirteen; for that was when my parents could not take my 'nonsense' anymore and went to get help. They were convinced that there was something wrong with me. Perhaps they were right; but how could I control the visions I would see? Yes, that's right,visions. I, Mary Alice Brandon, can see into the future. Of course, everyone does not believe me and insists on getting the proper treatment. I ran my hand through my short black hair. The people who worked here at the mental asylum were not kind. They cut off my hair, dressed me in rags, and left me barefoot and cold. Then they shoved me into the cell and gave me my meals by sending someone to my cell and wordlessly throwing the food at my lap. The food here wasn't particularly great. Usually it was a badly cooked casserole and water. Even on the holidays, or my birthday, it made no difference. But food wasn't the biggest problem right now.
My family had not contacted me in a month. Perhaps they did not like the idea of me being the only one in the family with mental problems, as they would so boldly put it. Cynthia, my younger sister, did not inherit any special senses at all. Because she was normal, she was kept, loved, adored, for all the things I lack.
"Ron? Send this to cell 116", a husky, unattractive male voice barked.
I heard a slight shuffling of feet as the pale man named Ron took one look at me, handed me a plate with a clump of food on it, and gave me a glass of dirty looking water before he left, swinging the door shut, or slamming it, rather, as the things inside the cell trembled. A pale, middle-aged man with dark hair peered at me in my cell, and sauntered to the bathroom area. As the door to the bathroom opened, I wrinkled my nose as the smell of human waste wafted through the air. I picked at my food with my fingers (obviously no one was going to hand me silverware here) and took a small bite out of it, feeling the strange mush run down my throat. I washed it down with the dirty water, trying my best not to vomit. If I were to vomit, I would get a beating.
A few days later…Ron's POV
I knew what the dark haired man wanted. He wanted her. The girl in the cell 116. I sniffed the air. I could not blame him for wanting her, she smelled so appetizing. Her scent was sweet and intoxicating. She smelled like flowers. I knew about her special sense. She could see into the future. Sometimes I would watch her, huddled inside the dirty cell, because not only did she smell nice, she looked nice too. A mop of short, black, spiky hair pointed in every direction, as her fair skin and petite frame gave her the look of a pixie. She had a small nose, wide brown eyes, and curved, rose colored lips. Suddenly, without warning, she rose from the floor of her cell and stood, her eyes in a daze.
"Blood. A man with dark clothes. Blood, everywhere. So much blood. Blood…." Her voice trailed off before she folded herself back on the floor, huddled against the cold, damp wall. She just had a vision, no doubt. She knew of my intention, or at least, she saw me going to turn her into what I am-a monster. There was no time to waste. Either I change her to save her, or she perishes. I would rather not have the beautiful little creature die. I rose, unlocked her door, took her by the arm, took her outside, and sunk my teeth into the warm, soft skin of her neck.