Chapter 3

Character: Human

Laura’s POV

My first time alone in a prison cell was terrible. As the heavy metal door slammed shut behind me, the sound echoed through the narrow confines of the cell. The damp walls and the musty smell of the place immediately hit me, and I knew I was in for a rough night.

I had been arrested on charges of robbery and assault, and my bail had been denied. It was a mistake, I kept telling myself, but deep down, I knew I was in trouble. I sat down on the hard, narrow cot and tried to compose myself.

The hours passed by slowly as I sat there in the dimly lit cell. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of footsteps outside. I wondered what was happening on the other side of the door and whether anyone was fighting for my release.

As night fell, the temperature dropped, and I wrapped my thin blanket around me tighter. The darkness seemed to intensify the feelings of fear and loneliness that had been gnawing at me all day.

I tried to keep myself occupied by replaying the events of the past few days in my head, trying to figure out where I had gone wrong. But the memories were too painful, and I soon gave up.

As the hours ticked by, I found myself slipping in and out of a fitful sleep, the discomfort of the cot and the cold seeping into my bones. At some point, I woke up to the sound of footsteps outside my cell, but when I looked up, there was no one there.

Morning finally arrived, and with it, a glimmer of hope. Maybe today would be the day I would be released. But as the hours passed, my optimism faded. The reality of my situation began to sink in.

Days turned into weeks, and I lost all sense of time. The routine of the prison became my routine—meals, exercise, and endless hours spent in my cell. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of my family waiting for me outside and the promise I had made to myself to turn my life around.

And so, I waited. Waited for someone to come to my rescue, waited for my trial, waited for the day I could walk out of that cell and start over. The waiting was unbearable, but it was all I had.

One day, while I was walking around the prison yard during exercise time, I noticed a group of inmates huddled in a corner, their voices raised in an argument. As I got closer, I realized that they were about to start a fight.

I tried to stay out of it, but before I knew it, I found myself in the middle of the brawl. Punches were thrown, and bodies were flying everywhere. I felt a sharp pain in my side and realized that I had been stabbed with a makeshift knife.

The fight was quickly broken up by the prison guards, and I was rushed to the infirmary. The wound was not serious, but it was a wake-up call for me. I knew that I had to stay out of trouble if I ever wanted to get out of that place.

The incident also reminded me of the harsh reality of prison life. It was a brutal world, and survival was not guaranteed. I knew that I had to be careful and stay on my guard if I wanted to make it out alive.

After the fight, I became more aware of my surroundings and more cautious in my interactions with other inmates. I also started to focus more on my case and my trial, hoping that I could soon prove my innocence and be released from that hellhole.

As time passed, I slowly adapted to my new life behind bars. I made a few friends and learned to navigate the prison hierarchy. I also started to work on improving myself, reading books, and taking courses offered by the prison.

But even with these small victories, the reality of my situation remained bleak. I was still trapped, still waiting for my day in court, still dreaming of the day when I would walk out of that cell and start a new life.

Despite my efforts to improve myself and stay out of trouble, my time in prison seemed to drag on forever. Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. I began to lose hope that I would ever be released.

One day, I was called into the warden’s office. He told me that I was being transferred to a different prison, one that specialized in holding supernatural beings. At first, I was confused, but then he explained that I had been identified as a witch.

I was shocked. I had never practiced witchcraft or anything supernatural. But the warden was adamant, and there was nothing I could do to change his mind. I was taken away in a van with bars on the windows and guards armed with silver weapons.

The journey was long and uncomfortable, and I felt like a criminal being transported to her final destination. When we finally arrived at the new prison, I was horrified to see that it was located in the middle of a dark forest with tall walls and no visible entrance.

As I stepped out of the van, I felt a chill run down my spine. The air was heavy with ominous silence, broken only by the sound of howling wolves in the distance. The prison was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was built like a castle, with turrets and towers rising high into the night sky.

I was led inside, and as the heavy wooden doors closed behind me, I was hit by the stench of blood and death. The place was dark, with torches on the walls providing the only source of light. I saw other inmates, all of them supernatural beings, staring at me with hungry eyes.

That’s when I realized that I was not just any prisoner. I was in a vampire prison, and I was the only human there.

Ten minutes passed.

“You have a friend, Jessica!”

I turned as I saw a man in his thirties approach me. His eyes were red like a blood moon, and he had fangs that were seeking to devour me.

“She is human too, Jessica. I hope you enjoy feeding on her.”