#my specimens

Tap tap tap.

Warden tries not to shrink in on themselves, as their footsteps echo through the cold and quiet halls of DUMP’s Delta Prisoner Rooms. It was always so unsettlingly hollow down here; the other guards disappearing like rats into cracks in the wall at their entrance.

It wasn't pleasant.

They brush themselves off, attempting to refocus, fiddling with the small notebook they’d brought with them.

It was just another session with another potential reform… volunteer? Not quite right, but not quite in their job description to digress; so they don't.

‘Hello my Warden.’ The soft lilt of Vega’s voice entering their mind no longer startled them.

“Good morning Vega.” They reply, settling into the chair set up for them, opening their notepad.

‘Is it morning? I never thought of myself as particularly fond of Elegy’s day cycle, but once a thing is taken away…”

Warden scribbles a few things down. “Can you tell me some other things you miss?

‘But there's just so much to choose from.' He replies, sarcasm dripping off his words. 'Why I'm sure you've educated yourself thoroughly on every little detail on my time ‘loose’ in Elegy.’

“Perhaps things you remember outside of reasons why you ended up in here?”

There's a weighted pause, longer than Vega's usual ruminations. Warden tried not to feel too hopeful at the prospect of potential progress this early on but-

‘I remember… stars. Constellations still burning bright, where their counterparts no longer do.' The words for once seem more stilted, before his usual charm can worm its way back between the letters. 'Tell me, Darling, how long do the stars remain after a Daemon does not?’

The writing pauses, always a steadfast indication that he has gotten under their skin. His turn to relish in their silence. Another move forwards.

“I don't know.” Their notes resume shortly after. “Do you know many Daemons who have died Vega?”

‘Some.’

“Would you like to speak more about it? It could help to discuss; afterall a problem shared, is a problem halved.”

He almost laughs at the disarmingly mundane humanity in the phrase.

‘Not today I'm afraid, my Warden. As much as I enjoy your company, I grow weary. Hard not to with how little I am fed. But alas greed was my sin, so surely the malnourishment is the smiting I deserve... In the eyes of this institution anyways.’

“Very well, I can leave you to rest.” Warden gently closes the notebook, rising trepidatiously. “I'm sorry that you lost some close to you. It's rare enough to see a Daemon pass, let alone multiple.”

‘Much appreciated Darling.’ The dismissal is clear, and they turn to go.

They're not sure why, what exactly he had said that had gotten to them this time. What had planted the seed of curiosity for what more time with him could be. They pause in the doorway, lingering, just for a moment.

“I'll ask for more feedings.”

And the room is quiet once more as their footsteps echo away.