December 14, 2016

      Working for the VHES (Vatican Hellspawn Elimination Squad) couldn’t be more of a pain in the rear at times like these. As I rinse the lycan’s blood from my hands I scrunch up my nose. It’s simply not a smell to which one becomes accustomed. A rocking headache has seeped its way into my brain and trod heavily across my poor nerve endings in steel-toed boots.
      “Hello? Sierra, you in here?” a tentative voice calls. After cursing under my breath, I swiftly proceed to wince. I really am trying to break the habit. Taking my lack of response as a go-ahead, the assistant girl informs me that I have paperwork to do. I sigh and roll my eyes up, giving the ceiling my best death glare. No rest for a warrior. She prompts me again, speaking my name as a question.
      “Yeah, Melissa, I got it. Scram.” I know I shouldn’t be rude to her, that she just wants to get into the program, but she can be so irritating sometimes. The twelve year old nods hesitantly and scurries out of the kitchen. I eye my face in the mirror; it is lined with exhaustion, not-so-subtle shadows under my eyes and focus wrinkles on my forehead.
      From the wing I’m in, I have to walk through Cell Hall to get back to the main part of the building. Cell Hall is where they keep the more powerful Evils, often for interrogation. I don’t see the point, to be frank – it rarely works.
      “Have you any compassion? I’ve done nothing wrong!” some vampire calls out. I grit my teeth, too weary to deal with these guys right now.
      “Shut up or I’ll let you out in the sun just to watch you sparkle,” I quip in irritation. It hisses at me and reinforces the fact that it does not, in fact, sparkle in the slightest. I tell it that’s a shame.
      When I’ve made it back into the dormitories, I make my shower quick before retiring early. Dinner is slightly tempting, but I decide I’d rather sleep now and eat a larger than normal breakfast in the morning. Of course, however, that’s not going to happen. I realize this as soon as the fire alarm goes off. We have these stupid drills regularly, so I ignore it, putting in my earbuds in a lame attempt to block some of the peal. At some point, the sonic agony stops and I fall asleep.
      Dreamland decides tonight is a good one to spite me. Every step I make is echoed by Evils surrounding me in a gray desert. In the shadows of dead trees I see shape-shifters, lycans, vampires, and the occasional demon. So, not all that much different from real life.
      The wade into consciousness is not entirely pleasant. My left arm is painfully tingling from having been slept on, I’m ravenous, and my eyes are blurry. I’ve always strongly detested mornings, and this one is especially horrid already.
      “Sierrraaa,” someone sing-songs in my ear. I snap up in the bunk bed, slamming my head.
      “Dammit! Roger, what are you doing in here?” He smirks at my clumsiness.
      “Hope you aren’t like that when you’re working,” he taunts. I glare at him. “I brought you some tea.”
      “Thanks,” I mutter. “I’m utterly exhausted.” He nods sympathetically.
      “Not surprised. You had a rough day yesterday.”
      “Ugh, you don’t know the half of it. It would be truly lovely if they’d just let us take them out.”
      Raising an eyebrow, Roger replied, “I’ve been at this for seven years, and I’m yet to encounter a suicidal Evil.” My retort is limited to sticking out my tongue.