Sleep. Sleep brought hunger. Hunger brought desire. Desire brought inhibition. Three, threes, always in threes.

Esper James Price-Wynnfield slept quite unsoundly that night, her head rolling hot on the pillows, her hair a messy nest fit more for a bird than a beauty. In her head, there was an imbalance - a ticking in the brain, a clog in the synapses. In sleep she licked her teeth till her tongue bled, then she drank it down; it soothed her more than mere rest, and soon she was sated once more, at least in the waking world. In her mind's eye, she saw only one thing:

Meat.

Flesh. Blood. Gore. Carnage. Viscera. In her dream, she was in an abattoir; her fingers clawed with knives, her mouth a vulgarity of razors and saws. The interior was cool and grey and tiled, and the lighting dull and drear; carcasses of unknown animals hung from heavy iron hooks, slowly drifting down a suspended rail. They dripped blood into a festering gutter, and rats fought for the choicest dregs. The air was cool, which helped cut the scent a bit - however, the sharp tang of iron still cut through, mingled with the cloying grip of airborne rot.

Normally, this was a sight to make one's stomach turn - and in a way, it did. Esper James could feel her stomach bundling into knots as she looked down at herself - at the heavy black waders, her torso bare save for a stained white apron, her legs ensconced within brown leathers. She was just clothed enough to feel so, but not clothed enough to prevent her flesh from pricking at the chill. In her dream, she could feel it all; no more numbing of the nerves against frost.

However, this knotting, this entwining upon itself, was not nausea. It was a voracious, empty pit; the pangs of desire denied. Looking at the bared flanks and bleeding cuts felt like an ulcer waiting for excision, a bruise pressed with cruel purpose. Her tongue swam in it's own drool. She. Was.

Hungry.

She took a step forwards, brain hazy, eyes a blur as they inspected the display. Was it... Pork? Beef? Chicken? No, not chicken, that was stupid - imagine the outroar about chickens bastardized to be this size! No, it had to be beef or something. Another step, then another, and then she was standing in the gutter only inches from the hanging mess - up close, the smell of rot had faded. That salty, sultry, fatty aroma of frying flesh came to her now, flooding her nostrils and boggling her already addled head. Some small part of her knew that this was bad meat, that this made no sense, that she shouldn't be here -

She stuck her tongue out and gave it a lick. Oh, heaven. There was a distinct sensation to even trying it - a fuzzy electrical peal that coursed through her half-dead veins and made her shudder. She took another step and the meat was in her hands. She blinked, and it was in her mouth. Dark red flesh and pale, buttery fat was shorn free of the dangling delight, and she found blood dribbling down her chin and onto her bare chest and apron. It already soaked her bare fingers, but she didn't give a good God damn.

The bite in her mouth made the rarest, most decadent A5 steak seem like diner-fodder. The salty tang of blood and red meat was met with the gushing, creamy juices of fat and membrane; umami and savory mingled with one another in a vivacious parade across her palate. Chewing brought ecstasy on it's own - the string of the gristle between her teeth, the way the fibers were slashed so cleanly and easily by her fangs, the mouthfeel of the brawn so excellently wet and tender...

She swallowed and could scant suppress a moan. That grounded her, and she took a step back, looking herself over - the goosebumps no longer simply a counter to the cold, but born from excitement. Anticipation. A trembling hand reached out to slice away another bite just as easily as she knew it would, and she drew from her meal a large and meaty rib. This, too, was consumed - slowly, as a test - and the pleasure it wrought was inhuman.

It felt wrong. Something about this all seemed _too_ indulgent, _too_ wonderful. And yet, even as she pondered she downed rib after rib until none remained, and then traversed to the flanks, and then the rump, and then she had torn her quarry all down to the hook. Naught remained but a satisfying belch and a layer of sloppy red across face and body and hair.

Once she had finished, she backed away. EJ felt woozy from the rapid consumption, and yet her stomach craved, nay, demanded more. No more remained for her, though; she had been cut off. Momentary relief at her source being stifled was replaced with despair, then depression, then desperation - despite her own mental urgings she felt herself trudge down the line looking for more, deeper into this dimly-lit facility. What seemed like hours passed in near-darkness as she hunted, the narrow walls of the meat rail edging closer and closer together...

...until she was released into a similar chamber as the one before, albeit cleaner. There was no smell of rot here; there was only a trickle of warm blood on the floor. Upon the hook sat a strange form, more meat of indeterminate origin - it's skin was free of blemish and looked soft and fatty, far more appetizing than the last. This she assaulted with vigour, and ate with great joy. However, something strange pierced the delicious aroma of meat; she could not initially smell it, and even once she could she had trouble pinpointing it.

EJ's eating slowed as she focused now on this scent, so familiar and yet so foreign. It was gaudy, hazy, uncertain; she furrowed her brow as she gobbed a mound of muscle, something like a thigh flank being sliced to ribbons and ground to goo in her jaws. She was halfway done with this hunk of meat when she heard something sliding down the rail - another hook.

"Mmmph - more? I-If you insist, haha!" She laughed with giddy, drunken delight, the blood in her veins causing her head to be more wired than a Christmas light. As the whirring of the rail grew louder, the scent came closer, floral and citrus and candy and... bubblegum.

Nausea again. Terror. _Dread_, in fact; the tiny conscious that had been screaming in her mind was in control again, but she could do nothing other than stagger away from her current prey as the next meal was brought in, mangled and torn. It looked like the remains of a car wreck, but all the right parts were recognizable - the limbs, the torso, the head, the rump. She felt tears gather in her eyes even as hunger tried to urge her forwards, two minds fighting within one skull, her mouth watering at the sight. She stared at its atrophic silhouette with watering ducts, trying to back away even as she staggered forth.

The meat's head jerked in an impossible way to face her, causing the blonde butcher to stumble into the bloody gutter. EJ's lips trembled and she flipped between baring her teeth and gaping her mouth with horror.

There were no features, just a flat space, but strands of pink remained. When it spoke, it had Puri's voice. When EJ awoke, she could not remember the words - but she could remember that blank canvas glaring into her, the mockery of life and death brought on by her greed for meat. It gave her dread and guilt in equal measure, and she woke up screaming into the darkness; the lights were thrown on immediately to cast away any hiding places.

It harrowed her. It felt ill. It was the truest nightmare she had had in many years, and while the feeling of eating had been orgasmic, the realization of her indulgence was maddening. However, that was not the worst of all.

The worst of all is that thinking of it made her hungry.

-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Her alarm, again. She awoke with a sick feeling in her stomach and a red stain around her lips. Quick inspection told her that it was her own blood, which was good - Puri hadn't stayed the night, thankfully, she had just used the bathroom and left after they had finished snuggling. As such, EJ's sweat-soaked bed was occupied by her and her alone.

It was just as well. She wasn't sure she could face Puri now. Her perfume would just make EJ hungrier.

She crawled out of bed at 11:00 AM, cursing her new, earlier schedule. God, she could see the sun from the window in her bedroom that she had forgotten to re-curtain from Est's escape... Fuck, that burnt. It was like staring straight into a lightbulb, just seeing so much natural sunlight. A shut-eyed scramble over there led to her ramming straight into the wall like a dunce, yelping as she went face-first into the stucco, but she was back up quickly and righted the wrong of the open curtain.

Right. Now that that was fixed and her apartment was almost entirely dark, she wandered back out into the living room - ass-naked and tummy grumblin' - to find her way to the bathroom. She had to shower, brush her teeth, take her - Oh. Fuck.

Her pills!

Of-fucking-course! She quickly tried to think back to the last time she had downed her daily dose of FixAte, and came up with bad news: Friday at best. There was a reason it was a daily drug, of course - the cravings came hard and fast, especially for a Ghoul, and even now three days late she could feel herself yearning for the raw'n'bloody. Her footsteps padded quickly towards the bathroom, soft carpet giving way to cool tile.

Her medicine cabinet was thrown open, still a mess from when Est had been over. Her collar from Puri sat within, with a small note from Est mentioning she had cleaned it - how thoughtful. However, there was something missing. Her FixAte. It was gone. Absolutely gone. The lights flicked on and she searched again, then again, then once more - sweat beading at her brow, breath getting hot and heavy and rapid, pupils contracting from anxious pressure.

She felt nauseous for the second time this morning as she rifled through bottles of estradiol and spironalactone, ibuprofen and cough syrup, hunting for a prize she knew wasn't there. Where had it gone? Had Est thrown it out? Had Puri stolen it? Had that fucking cat done something with it?! She even checked the bathtub, the sink, the damn toilet tank, and came to the same result. Nothing. They were gone.

EJ stopped, taking a deeeeeep breath, eyes shut and hands a'tremble. This would ruin her if it got out. She was practically a criminal. She'd go to jail and even the sex-perverts and granny-scammers would look down on her for being a deplorable little cannibal. She'd get rehab'd until she could rejoin normal society, but she knew what that looked like, what it did to your brain. She'd be a janitor until kingdom come, a lobotomite trapped in an undying shell.

"No, EJ, breathe," she said to herself, "it's not that bad. It could be a lot worse! You can just... just pick some up after work today. Easy. Tell them it's an express order. You'll need to pay a little more, maybe tighten up your belt a bit, but you can afford it. Easy. Easy easy easy. G-God, I hope it's easy..."

*Beep! Beep! Beep!*

Oh, God damnit! The alarm again - 12:00 already. She had limited time. The ghoulette began to stumble through her morning ritual with prodigious speed if not accuracy, brushing her teeth and showering and relieving herself in a blur of early-morning anxiety. Readied and clean, she quickly threw on her classic outfit - white blouse, black pencil skirt, black hose, and (you guessed it) black heels - before rushing out the door. She didn't even have time for breakfast.

Today, the stairwell felt just a little more claustrophobic. The view out onto Vitus was all the more depressing for it.

-

In past the heavy glass doors doors. In past the sneering security guards. In past the keypad-locked door that never accepted her keycard. In and into Judas's foyer, with only a minute to spare. She punched in and then collapsed into her desk with a grateful sigh, nearly having an emotional moment at how close she had cut it. She had succeeded. She was safe.

The door to Judas's office opened, and a middle-manager with balding brown hair and pit-stains in his suit rushed out. A plastic binder full of papers followed after him, beaning him hard enough in the back of the head to knock him to the floor. Judas stomped out behind him, howling in German, just barely unable to catch him as he clawed his way back to his feet and dashed off while yelling apologies. She was about to let loose further obscenities until she turned and saw EJ. Her horrid scowl became a friendly, saccharine smile, and she clip-clopped over on the short carpet.

"Esper James! Hello, glad to see you showed up to work on-time, as promised. I hope this is the start of a 'repeat performance' for you. How was your bus ride here?"

At first, honestly, EJ had no idea what to say - but she shrugged after some consideration, assuming that this was just... A day in the life for Judas. She usually didn't listen in on the meetings, especially early morning ones before Judas had eaten lunch, so maybe this one was just particularly bad. "It was alright. I, uh... I missed breakfast, so that was kinda shitty, but otherwise pretty ok. In fact, I -"

Judas listened to her with a slowly shifting expression, and eventually cut her off with a raised hand. She hunched down to get right up in the secretary's personal space and furrowed her brow, taking a deep breath - sniffing at her, first in general, then her neck, then her hair. EJ found herself unable to pull away out of both fear and confusion, and physical force ensured it remained that way as Judas reached a hand out and took EJ in it by the back of the neck.

"You smell... strange. Like bubblegum, but also like..."

Judas didn't finish that sentence, but her lips slowly curled into a smile. The smile became a grin, and the grin became a cackle even as EJ sat stock-still and terrified. What the fuck was happening? She had no clue, and with Judas, doing something new or unpredictable meant danger for whoever she was near.

"...hmm. Interesting. Sorry, ignore that. You're fine, I promise." Judas let go of her little lamb but kept up that horrid smile, even as EJ muttered out some kind of reply that ended up just being a little vocalization of acknowledgement. She brushed down her blouse and settled into her chair, clearing her throat once more.

"Erm... Thank you, Judas. Hey, uh... I just wanted to... I wanted to thank you, for calling me. For being concerned about me. Calling me the other day was really nice of you. I'm feelin' ok, as you can see, so... Thanks." She couldn't even form up a sheepish smile, still jarred by the earlier strangeness of her superior, but she nodded and inclined her head to show some respect. Judas bought it wholesale.

"Of course! Of course, EJ. I, well, I do want you to know I care about you, you know? You're my best assistant, even if you're a slacker and as fragile as paper-glass. In fact, being such a wimp is kind of endearing, you know? You're cute because of it." Judas said this all like it should be some kind of compliment, but if it was, it was hella backhanded. There was no real affection in it, at least not without definite toxicity, but it still made EJ feel better. It was better than nothing.

This exchange finished, and soon they went their separate ways - Judas to her office, EJ to her desk and work. Today was boring again. Lazy work for a lazy dame, and that was just fine in her book. She relished the relaxation, hoping to savor the moments of respite even as she fought with her weariness and anxiety. It helped calm her heart.

Her job was, truthfully, easy - it was the environment that made it hard. All she had to do was manage Judas's meetings, appointments, travel arrangements (which she didn't often have), her daily schedule (which Judas dictated to her anyways), take phone calls and write down messages for her... all the tedious busywork, essentially. It wasn't exciting, and she had hoped for some mobility after as many years as she had spent in the position, but... it was home.

When she had started, Judas had been so sweet. So friendly. So caring. She hadn't mentioned what happened to the last girl to be her secretary, but EJ assumed she just quit. Some days, she wasn't so sure anymore. Over time Judas became more and more demanding, and more possessive, and more sadistic - she seemed to enjoy leading EJ on and building her up just to tear her down, and then swooping in to pick up the pieces and start again.

It was unhealthy in all sorts of ways, but EJ just... took it. Toughed it out. Dealt with it. She bit the bullet and let Judas bully and belittle her if only for the paycheck, then went home and cried about her own misery while wishing that the vampiress was just a little bit sweeter to her. That she cared a bit more. Wishing she'd lighten up and try being her friend.

The early morning work went by in a hazy blur of coffee and fat-crisps and phone calls from foreign clients trying to get their hands on some Tsang brand merchandise. Judas's job was inscrutable to EJ, but presumably she was very important and quite influential - client would phone about anything and everything under the sun, and Judas would handle them. She spent all day in her office tending to the business EJ was tasked to give her, and seemed to use the little blonde as her punching bag when the stress boiled too hot and high.

Ding. Eight PM. It was time to leave in a flash, the monotony of the day-to-day grind left behind to find her another day. EJ stood and shut down her computer, breathing a deep and sluggish sigh of relief. Judas had barely harried her during the day today, a blessing in and of itself, and now she was finally allowed to leave? Someone must've been smiling down on her today.

As she began waking out the door, the one to Judas's office opened, and her boss strode out. She had a queer little smirk on her face, and her hands were clasped behind her back as if she was smugly admiring her handiwork - or watching a train wreck play out, knowing Judas.

"Oh, Esper James... I'd like to speak with you for a moment, if that's ok. And of course it's ok, since I'm your boss and you're still on the clock."

Yikes. Brutal. Judas loved to exert her power over EJ's employment whenever she could, but this was particularly direct about it. Short of telling her she would get fired for walking away, this may as well have been coercion. EJ turned about-face, cowed by her superior's dominant tone, hands clasped over her lap in a submissive gesture of one ready to bow on-command.

"Yea- we, yes, Judas? What can I do for you?"

This immediate deference made Judas's grin blossom into a sadist's beam, sanguine fangs bared and displaying their gold tips. She was as fond of flaunting her wealth as she was her power, though she was usually quite subtle about it. Usually.

"Tomorrow, as you may know, is my birthday. As such, I'm requesting a very specific gift from you. Two, in fact. First..."

She began to approach EJ now, still beaming, still vicious. Her long, silken, ebony hair reflected the light like a midnight waterfall; her lightly tanned skin spoke of a land of heat and desire far from the northern locale she was stationed in. And her eyes... The pupils were inky slits that seemed to form a whorl when stared into, their irises so gemlike and beauteous and red that they seemed nearly as blood. EJ could not help but be powerless beneath her sway, watching her superior's lithe, healthy frame swagger ever closer.

Judas put her hands on EJ's shoulders as she had done oh so many times before, but her heat was magnetic now. That scent of blood and berries and cinnamon and wine was heady in the air and made EJ's brain swim in tar, her survival instincts vaguely aware of the influence being laden upon her by her unholy hostess, but she could scant recoil. She simply watched, mouth slightly agape, as she was enthralled as prey.

Judas adjusted a small necklace which lay upon her bare flesh and chest - a silver crucifix, laid upside-down as Saint Peter's cross - to replace it upon a dark burn scar. It shimmered in what little luminance passed Judas's shade.

"Firstly, I want you to take the day off. Don't worry, it won't count against your PTO - I'm cruel but I'm not a monster, hahaha! We'll be going on a... 'day-trip' together, you and I. I'm thinking food, maybe a movie, and I'd love to take you to see some of my properties..."

This manages to pierce through EJ's fugue state, at least mentally; physically she was vegetative. A 'day-trip'? That was a date, for sure. A full-day date with Judas paying for all of it. A full day alone with a vampire. It made EJ sweat.

Judas continued after letting it sink in, EJ's mix of excitement and dread the exact reaction she was hoping for. Judas's eyes crinkled with malice and delight, her predation as delicious as fine wine. She leaned in then, whispering from her lips to EJ's ear, breath hot and tingling as it rushed onto cold flesh.

"My second request... don't take your medicine tomorrow. I want you... feral."

A wave of cold swept across the tiny ghoul's fragile form, from toe to tip then back again, making her shiver. Don't take her meds? Her legally mandated appetite suppressant? The one that kept her from eating human fucking flesh and devolving into a primal, feral animal?

"...I know, it's scary, isn't it? But I promise, you'll have fun... Just stick it out one more day for me. One more little day, and I promise, you'll have a blast..."

Judas leaned in deeper, the delicate hands on EJ's shoulders becoming tender vices as they drew the shorter girl forward. EJ's heart leapt into her throat as she considered some kind of protest, but a dark temptation gripped her heart. She knew what happened next. It was... cathartic. Guilty. Enticing.

Judas's lips, soft and firm and lined with exotic lip gloss, pressed to EJ's own in a rush of breath and scent and pheromones. Touching lips-to-skin with Judas was like a drug in it's own right; now, with their bodies close and tongues entwined (Judas wasted no time taking what she desired), EJ was on a cloud. It reminded her dully of the feeling of her dream, how eating flesh had felt in those moments. It was undeniable.

Hands shifted and placed themselves in new, exciting locations - Judas's on EJ's hips and rear and back, grasping the crest of her buttocks, while EJ's caressed Judas's shoulder blades. The ghoulette could tell her supervisor was taking great delight in how easily the secretary sunk into the needy, fervent embrace, but she wouldn't give EJ everything - not yet. Not now.

Judas pulled away slowly, threads of berry-flavored saliva trailing between their mouths, wiped away as Judas broke their shared intimacy. She laughed - a chuckle, then a cackle, then a snicker. Her lips graced EJ's forehead once more in a bid for comfort for the girl before their owner pulled away, psychic drone of vampiric sway dulling into nothing.

"Be there, and you'll get more than just a kiss. I promise."

Judas gently pushed EJ aside and stepped out the door, letting the blonde breathe for a few moments, decompressing from her recent adventure. She swallowed hard, looking down at herself and then letting out a heavy sigh. She wiped her lips of spit and shut her eyes, reliving the lightning in her neurons from the kiss, the explosive connection as volatile as a faulty power box. She could barely breathe.

A date, then. With no meds, for one more day.

What could go wrong?