Being a guard at Western Prison was relatively alright.

The job was easy enough on calm days, it was just when fights broke out or someone was trying to escape was when it got tough.

You were one of the few women at the prison. Feisty, surprisingly strong, and most of the time ignored everyone and stared at people with a death glare.

It was lunch. The food was rank. Beans on toast. However, the beans looked like they had been pre-cooked last week and had exploded in an oven, and the toast was barely toasted. It was just soggy, sad yet somehow burnt bread. Great.

You refused to eat it, deciding going hungry was better than getting food poisoning.

“Why aren’t you eating?” A voice called out from behind you.

It was Ghost. One of the strongest and fastest guards on the premises, and always found a way to irritate you in some form.

“Can’t be that bad, love. It’s baked beans on toast, not food from a dumpster. Eat it.” He ordered as he took a step closer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or go to bed hungry, it’s up to you. But remember it’s 7pm now, and there’s no more food until 6am tomorrow, you’ll starve.”