--

Another day, another time, the same repeat. He woke up in his confined space, with nothing but hard glass walls, a bed and a table. He knew what today was gonna be like, 7 am, he got his breakfast and newspaper. 12 pm, the warden checked up on him. 3 pm, lunch. 5 pm, another check up from the warden. 6 pm, dinner.

Time passes, about a few hours. It's now 5 pm, and he's getting the check up from the warden. He can't talk, he has something covering his mouth shut. He had to type on a keyboard, which whatever he typed, it'd show up on a screen outside of his room. For the warden to read and see.

He typed that he'll get out, and the warden said he would never. He replied with a "screw you, old hag."

How feisty. He'd say more, but there's a filter on the damn thing. He wishes he could talk freely instead of type with a filter. If only he had literal acid in his mouth- it'd melt away everything if he got to use it. He misses using his fangs to melt through things.