A dark room can be a sanctuary to some and a tomb to others. You'd be surprised how much someone will panic like a rat in a cage if they are put into a dark room. Today, my eyes watched a piece of filth do that exact panic. The camera had night vision, giving me a little advantage as the watcher.

After watching for a few moments, I pressed my manicured finger down on the intercom button. Hearing my voice through the speaker only freaked the fucker out more. A smile spread across my lips, "I wouldn't move too much. You're currently on a platform. Below you," I flipped the switch that turned on the light in the room, "Are a few spiders. There's around a thousand down there. Only ten of them are poisonous though and will only bite you if you piss them off.

In your lifetime, you've hurt several for no reason. It's time you understand that sometimes people who cross your path are not looking to hurt you and they might just need something more than you do. Somewhere in that pit is the only key to unlock that door. You better hurry though. In five minutes, the door will lock forever and this room will become your tomb. Live or die. The choice is yours."

This should be interesting. This woman is an executive stealing millions from her clients. They're all innocent folks just trying to get by in life. They need something from her and she ripped their heads off. It's time I make her understand what it's life to desperately need something. It's about time she saw the innocent as just that; innocent. They could hurt her, but they choose not too.

Kuza let himself into the control room. He looked down at the monitor, raising his lip in disgust, "Yuck."

I snit with a smirk, "Don't like spiders?"

"A spider? Okay. A thousand? No thanks." He replied. Kuza placed his hand on the small of my back and ran his palm up my shirt a bit.

I glanced over at him. "What'cha doing?"

"Oh, what, I can't touch you sensually unless I'm fucking you?" He asked.

"When you're fucking me, you have my husband's permission." I said.

Kuza sighed and squeezed my hip, "Yeah, yeah. I just miss you."

"What about Rayne?"

His eyes distilled for a moment. Kuza ran his hand up and down my side a few more times before taking it away. "She's still in Morocco with Josh and Ryan-Ashley. Looking for some illegal trader. We weren't on good grounds when she left."

"Are you looking for a pity fuck?" I asked.

He pursed his lips to the side, "What would you say if I was?"

"I'd say, let me talk to Ricky first." I replied.

Kuza nodded, falling silent. Him and his girlfriend fight a lot. They do love each other but there's a power struggle there. Rayne and I had never gotten along very well. I put up with her, she puts up with me. She knows that Kuza and I almost were a thing. Then Ricky came along and well, things changed. It's still hard on Mike even after all these years.

| | |

Ricky was still in his office. He has a tendency to work late, but usually not this late. Anytime he's not in bed by 2AM, it usually means he fell asleep against his desk. I went to go check on him. Imagine my surprise when I saw he was still awake. I peered in through the cracked door to see him leaned back against his desk as he watched something on a monitor. I moved myself over a bit to see what was on the monitor.

It looked like old security footage from a prison. Graham, to be more exactly. And that was... Me, in that footage. Ricky rewound it again. Why would he be watching that? He knows it's a time I'd rather not talk about. I could've let it go, but I'm not that kind of person. I knocked on the door as I opened it. He quickly turned off the monitor mounted on the wall and walked around his desk.

"Hey, sorry. I was just getting ready to come to bed." He said.

"What were you watching?" I asked quietly.

"Nothing." Ricky hastily responded.

I picked up the remote from his desk and turned the monitor back on. When I saw the footage of my cell in Graham, I gave him a dirty look. The kind of dirty look only a wife knows how to give. "Really?" I sneered.

Turning my attention back to the screen, I hit play. This was right after Ricky came to Graham, before I even knew who he was. It was when I came to the realization I was falling for him and I lost my fucking mind over it. I cracked and attacked multiple guards, killing three of them. Why the fuck is he watching this?! This was my past and not exactly a moment I was proud of. I lost my head.

"Why are you watching this?" I snapped at him as I threw the remote back on his desk.

Ricky sat down in his desk chair with a sigh. He glanced past me, at the screen. Then he hung his head. "I'm sorry... I... Uh,"

"You're a terrible liar for a fed." I interrupted him before I could even hear his excuse.

"No, I'm a great liar. I just can't lie to you." He responded as he looked up at me. "The unfortunate side of the suicide squad is there are a lot of people that question it. When I was in Paris, I met a woman that specialized in behavior analysis. She made a comment to me about how weird it was that the majority of the group was from one town. That is was this... phenomena. My entire life, I didn't believe in shit like that. I was taught not to, but when you're suddenly fighting the undead, all logic is kind of thrown out the window. What she said got me thinking."

I rolled my eyes, "What the fuck does any of this have to do with it?"

Ricky stood up. He picked up the remote and walked back around the table. He backed up the video again and hit play. For the bit he showed me, I was on top of the first guard. I latched my hand in his jaw and broke it open, almost tearing it off.

"You tore a man's jaw off, Babe." He muttered.

I glared at him, "And?"

"The average human can deliver 16 PSI. It takes over 1,000 PSI to tear a someone's jaw off." He moved over to the wall full of screens and turned some of the other monitors back on. Pictures of a crime scene was displayed. He said, "This is a girl that was found killed in 2007. Her limbs had been ripped from her body with such force that her death was credited to a grizzly bear. According to her file, though, she was dating Chris at the time. He killed her, not a bear, but no human should ever be able to deliver that kind of force."

"What are you saying?" I replied, confused as fuck.

He had to have his facts wrong somewhere or something. We may be monsters, but we're definitely humans. We're just powerful, angry people. Each of us were born in Scranton, yeah, but that doesn't have to do with much. I was raised in California from the time I was five. It's not like we were born in a chemical spill or something.

"Honestly," Ricky glanced back to the imagines on the screen, "I don't know."

"You don't know." I deadpanned, "Ricky... You can't just say shit like that and go and make me so fucking paranoid."

He grabbed ahold of my wrist and pulled me in closer. "Hey, Baby, I'm trying here. You were the one that told me it takes a truly smart person to admit when they're lost. I'm trying to be smart about this but it's hard to work a case you know nothing about."

I jerked my hand back from him, "So I'm just a case file to you, now?"

He sighed, "No. You know I didn't mean that. I'm sorry... Fuck, this always happens. I always end up pissing you off when I'm trying to find a balance between our relationship and my job."

"Yeah, because you fucking suck at it! It would be one thing if you told me about this but you went behind my back. If I hadn't caught you, how long would you have waited to tell me about this?" I yelled, gesturing to the screens.

Ricky leaned himself against the front of his desk. It was darker in here, making it so that the lights of the screen illuminated his face like a scene out of a movie. He crossed his arms across his chest, "I don't know, okay? I just don't know." He murmured.

I scoffed, "Right." Then I started to rush out of the room.

"I'll be into bed in a minute." He said.

"I won't." I grumbled, slamming the door.

What the fuck is he thinking? I don't even want to talk about it right now. This was fucking ridiculous. He has to have his facts wrong or this has to be a freak accident. I know I'm a monster but I'm still human. This is what happens when people judge us. He lets them put this bullshit into his head.

I headed back to our bedroom for a few minutes. My makeup was still on from the day. I threw on a long black dress with a slit going all the way up the side and sharp high heels. Then I went down to Kuza's room. The door was closed but it was unlocked. I pushed it open, leaning on the doorway. He was sitting shirtless on his bed, smoking hookah while watching Breaking Bad. Instantly the TV was muted when he saw me.

"Mind if I come in?" I mused.

"Not at all." He spoke in a haze, as if I hypnotized him.

Shutting the door with my foot, I locked it behind me. I slowly crawled up him on his bed like a cat stalking prey. "Ricky is pissing me off." I sighed dramatically, "Make me feel better?"

"Oh, Baby," He cooed as he ran his hand down my body, "I'd love to. Tell me what you want me to do for you, you little minx."

"I want to see some of your old moves..." I suggestively said.

His tone was playful, "Old moves?"

"Uh-huh, from your stripper days." I replied.

He blew a puff of smoke in my face. I vape so it didn't bother me at all. Coming from him, it was pretty fucking sexy. Kuza grabbed my hips and twisted us around until I was sitting down on the edge of the bed and he was standing over me. He ran a hand through his hand and stretched out his back. His phone then dinged.

As he glanced over at it, he got peeved. Kuza grabbed the bottle of whiskey off of his nightstand and swigged back a healthy amount. He stumbled back from the bitter taste and wiped his mouth. "Fucking cunt." He mumbled, "This rate, she'll be my next fucking meal."

"Rayne?" I asked.

"Yeah." He said, "Maybe I'll throw her on that fucking island with the others when the time comes. For now, I've got a show to give you, Baby."

Kuza flipped on the radio. Zombie came on. Perfect. He then proceeded to give me a lap dance to the beat of "Dragula". His fucking abs were hard as a rock. That's the definition of washboard abs. I couldn't keep my hands to myself while he grinded all over me. Sorry, Rick.