I carry Sophia’s and my trays carefully through the hallway. Being a carnivore, chicken alone can satisfy my hunger. Besides chicken, I have ordered a beverage of pig’s blood. Blood is a favorite drink among carnivores and is even a spice enjoyed by the quadruped versions of my kin. Unlike my mundane meal, Sophia’s tray contains fish, noodles, bread, vegetable soup, a side of salad, and lemonade. Omnivores are the greediest eaters of all animals. It is no wonder that species such as bears, raccoons, and pigs are watermelons with legs.

     “Sophia!” I call out to her as I push the door open with my foot. To my surprise, the volume of the television is lower than when I have visited previously. The guardian turns to me, smiling gently as usual. Fake as usual.

     “Thank you so much, you’re the best!”

     The lazy bum sits on the bed without moving a muscle as she observes me making my way towards her.

     “Uh-huh. No problem.” I hand her the food, and she accepts it with both hands.

     I sit down next to her on the bed with my tray in my lap. She glances over at my drink and her face betrays disgust. I can’t blame her. Humans have long associated blood drinking with vampires and are at fault for demonizing such a delicious beverage. Without giving a comment, Sophia lifts the bread to her mouth and turns back to the television once again. I shift my attention to the television as well. On screen, a human walks through the woods as eerie background music plays. I suppose that this is another one of those movies made by mankind. I am expecting this one to be full of misconceptions about the wilderness as usual. I take a bite of my chicken and glance at Sophia through the corner of my eye. She has already finished her bread and is now digging into her dish of salad. I am waiting patiently for her to consume her lemonade.

     Intense music jolts my attention back to the television. A tiger charges at the human, who bursts into a run. The primate soon arrives at a cliff top overlooking the rest of the forest. He pulls out a piece of meat from his knapsack and waves it at the big cat to catch its attention, and then hurls the prize over the side of the cliff. The tiger leaps after it and plummets to its death. I hate unrealistic depictions of animals such as the one I have just painfully witnessed. This is exactly the reason why responsible creatures must boycott such repulsive creations. To depict carnivorous animals as dangerous, dumb killing machines is a crime against reality itself. Predators are highly intelligent, calculated hunters with their own personalities. These wrongful portrayals only reinforce the fact that humans are arrogant, uneducated, and cowardly.

     Sophia suddenly topples forward, bringing my attention back to reality. Huzzah! The drug has taken its effect! I have slipped the precise dose of GHB into Sophia’s lemonade when I went to fetch her meal. The colorless, odorless substance is certainly an effective device used to knock out a critter. I quickly set my food on the bed and push her lifeless body backwards as to prevent her from falling on top of her dishes; Sophia’s back hits the blankets instead. I gently remove the tray from her lap and set it next to mine. Then, I grab the guardian by her waist, immediately feeling the smoothness of her dress against my paw. She turns out to be heavier than I expected, but I still manage to haul her towards the door with her feet dragging on the ground behind us.

     At this time, all of my creatures are at dinner upstairs. Other than the two of us, this level of the complex is completely void of life. As I advance down the hallway towards a double wooden door at the end of the passage, only the echo of my footsteps and Sophia’s shoes scraping the floor accompany me. Although I know that it is nearly impossible for anyone to stumble upon us at this hour, I still can’t help but visualize being caught by someone. My followers are not slaves, but characters with their own thoughts. There is no doubt that some of them will oppose drugging Sophia to throw her in a lockup.

     We reach the wooden gates. This is the entrance to my own private quarters. My arms feel slightly exhausted and I’m glad to take a quick break. I place Sophia gently and deliberately down on the floor. Then I reach my paw on the inside of my belt to feel around for an object. My finger hits a concealed pocket, and I hook my nail into it to pull out a transparent sticky no bigger than two centimeters. Both the lock on my door and the keys in my pocket are fake access devices to make others believe that in order to enter my quarters one must use the traditional way to enter. Even though nobody is watching, I decide to go through my accessing ritual as always. Hiding the sticky in my palm, I pull my fake keys from my trench pocket with my left hand and insert it into the lock. As I turn my wrist, I wave the sticky as well as my thumb in front of the lock, which triggers the gate to open. I push both doors open to reveal another hallway. I return to the unconscious Sophia, grab her by the waist once more and drag her inside. Without turning around, I kick the two doors close behind me with my foot.

     Luckily my little prison isn’t far from the gates. I haul Sophia over to the left wall towards one of the rooms. I let go of the guardian with my right arm, still holding on to her with my left as I wave my right paw in front of the door, causing it to click. I push it open and drag Sophia into the empty, white, soundproof room. It has a white floor, white walls, white ceiling, white everything. I immediately feel guilty for leaving my savior in such a horrendous condition. A room such as this one deprives its lonely prisoner of sensory stimulation and can cause psychological damage. To be locked up here only leaves a hostage with his or her sanity, which will wither as time goes by. I drop my poor victim to the ground. I can’t waste more time trying to make this room a more suitable living space, so I must make do with a few entertaining objects.

     I burst out of the prison, rushing down the hallway towards my living room. I unlock its door in a hurry with my right paw and then storm inside. I scan the area --couches, tables, TV, mirrors, portraits -- for anything entertaining. A bookshelf. That can do. I hurry over to it, skimming each: Dark Side of Computer Science, Mind of a Successful Businessman, Art of Cloning, Persuasion… none of these seem fitting for Sophia. Then my eyes land on something else: Adventures of Mason. This is a fantasy chapter book I read as a pup about a human boy named Mason and his goal to save the animal world. The author is an anthropomorphic marten named Kaloo who was able to publish to the primate population under the human name of Leonardo Parkes. I used to love this book and look up to Kaloo until I painfully suffered at the cruel hands of the dreaded mankind. How I suffered, I don't dare to recall. I wish people were as nice as the ones depicted in the book, but after all it's just fantasy. I quickly grab the book from the shelf, and then turn my attention to the room again to search for a second item I can use to entertain Sophia. A rubber squeaky bunny toy next to the TV as a sound stimulus! I haste over to that, snatching it up, and then sprint back out the door, down the hallway and into the prison.

     Sophia hasn’t moved from her spot. I place the two items down on the floor inside the room. I take a moment to admire the beauty of the guardian before exiting. I shut the prison door behind me cautiously, hoping that all goes smoothly. I’ve got evidence back at Lesun’s room to dispose of, a drawing to do, and a massive attack I that need to get prepared for.