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QUESTION: "Murphy, aside from their blood, do you think the detective is attractive? Also, what does the detective smell like/taste like to you? If you knew the detective found you handsome/attractive, would you have treated them better and tried to seduce them to get what you want instead of treating them like a sack of potatoes to toss around?"

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“Tch. What they look like serves me no purpose. What their blood can do is everything I need…or needed.” A storm casts across his face as he grits his teeth, looking away from the glass partition of his cell that you are speaking through.

When you ask your next question, his gaze swings back and he grins with a flash of danger in the smile. “Are you saying you find me attractive? Because you surely couldn’t tell for sure behind this glass. Why don’t you convince the guard to let you in, and then you could truly—”

The guard at the side bangs on the cell. “That’s enough.”

Murphy growls and sinks into himself, his thin chance at freedom snapped.