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"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Miss Hart?"

Geniva tucked her thumb between two sheets of paper and closed the file on her lap, lifting her eyes to the paunchy face of the warden sitting in front of her. His eyes were narrowed and lips pressed in a firm line; he looked positively fierce. Geniva found herself wondering, and not for the first time, if his irritation was directed at her. Did he resent the fact that he'd had to hire a fur to take care of his more difficult patients? Were her floppy ears, cotton tail, and button nose - so cute on a normal animal - making him uncomfortable? She was hard-pressed to fight a smile at the thought. Indeed, she kept her face carefully neutral.

"I understand, Mr. Billingsworth. The patients that you're charging me with have all been declared too dangerous to be allowed in general population. Many of them are criminally insane. They are both anthros and killers; their appetite for human flesh, or perhaps just a hatred of your race, have driven them to phenomenal acts of violence."

The warden's nostrils flared. In the short time that she had been with him, Geniva noticed that particular idiosyncrasy. He tended to do it when he was irritated, anxious, or exasperated. No wonder, Geniva thought, he probably hates the very idea of me. __Bet he can't wait to get away.

"I don't think you understand the seriousness of this situation. These aren't people that we're - "

"With all due respect, Warden, you will refrain from finishing that sentence or you'll find it difficult for me to hold my temper in check. Not people? Do you recall the Military Equality Act of '04?" Geniva leaned forward, one hand resting casually on her knee, her blue eyes smoldering with intensity. "'Henceforth, any reference to citizens found in the United States Constitution now includes those that are Anthropomorphic beings.' _How about the fourteenth amendment? _'All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.'"

Mr. Billingsworth opened his mouth, perhaps to respond indignantly, but Geniva cut him off.

"Your patients were born in these United States, Warden. That makes each and every one of them a citizen, and as citizens they have the same basic rights that every other citizen has. You will not refer to any anthro as less than a person, just as you would not refer to any Hispanic, black, or Asian as less than human. Do we understand each other, Mr. Billingsworth?"

If Geniva had expected the man to be anything other than meek she'd been mistaken. The warden rose to his feet at the end of Geniva's speech, staring down at her from his lofty height. He looked just as intense as the woman did.

"You will not find me to be a man easily cowed, Miss Hart. You were hired to provide care for the patients that we hold, not spout legalities at me for my choice of words. We don't have a place for weakness here. You're of a species with these men, but you are not their friend or champion. These_ creatures _are not upstanding citizens. They're criminals."

"That doesn't make them less than people." Geniva was furious, but she trod a delicate line. This was her boss, after all, even if she hadn't technically started working for him. She, too, rose from her chair, though she was hardly an intimidating figure. Too delicate and feminine by far, she didn't even have height to give her an edge; the top of her head was just at the warden's eye level. "I'm not here to fight with you," Geniva continued, "but when you call one anthro less than a person, you're calling all of us less than people, a sentiment that I neither agree with nor appreciate."

"I understand your grievance, Miss Hart," the warden finally said. "I had no wish to offend you with my words. Perhaps after seeing the patients and hearing their stories you will understand why I find it difficult to acknowledge them as people rather than butchers. Here." He had been rummaging through one of the drawers in his large, oaken desks as he spoke, searching for a particular file. He slid it across the desk to Geniva and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Geniva set down the folder she had already been holding and plucked the new one from the desk, flipping open the cover. The sight that greeted her was dismal. At first she couldn't be sure what she was looking at, for the photograph on the front page contained so much blood that the very carpet the photo contained had been stained crimson. The walls in the background had been splattered with blood. The photo had been taken only a few hours after the crime; the blood was just starting to congeal. She turned to the next photo. It was the same bloody carpet and spattered walls, but this time a severed limb was the focus of the picture. Geniva could see where the bone had splintered as it was ripped off the body; muscle and fat had been torn away from the bone. Were those...bite marks? The woman paled. Whatever had done this had started to eat the victim.

Strangely fascinated, she found herself flipping through the photographs. There was enough blood that after a while it started to look fake, as if nothing more than a horror movie set. But the body parts were real. The intestines that had been spilled from a split belly bore signs of chewing, the chest cavity had been wrenched apart and the heart removed, the fingers torn off and scattered across the carpet.

Geniva was breathing hard by the end of it. She shut the file and dropped it back onto the desk, taking a staggering step backwards. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply.

"I'm sorry to show you that," the warden began.

"He ate his victim?" Geniva cut in with a small voice.

"Partially. He was interrupted before he could finish." Mr. Billingsworth returned the file to its spot in his desk. He walked around the desk and placed a comforting hand on Geniva's shoulder. "We're not dealing with normal killers here, Miss Hart. They don't just point a gun and pull the trigger. I know that you feel empathy for these creatures, but they belong here. Every crime that landed them here was just as heinous as the one that I just showed you." He turned away, striding across the room toward the water cooler and filling a glass. He returned to Geniva's side and offered her the water. She offered a word of thanks as she took is from his hand, taking a few small sips as she tried to digest what she had just seen. When she finally spoke, it was haltingly.

"I apologize for reacting the way I did, Mr. Billingsworth. I can assure you my knees don't get weak at the sight of blood. It was simply...startling."

To her surprise, the warden laughed. He was a larger man; his laugh was deep and booming, and she found that when he wasn't scowling he could almost be pleasant.

"No apologies necessary, Miss Hart. Do you mind if I call you Geniva? No? Geniva, then. I don't think you're the type to keel over at the sight of the red stuff." As the warden spoke he moved back around his desk, once more seating himself in the wing-backed chair. He gestured for Geniva to regain her seat. "Let's talk shop, then. You've been a nurse for three years, correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Billingsworth."

"Roy, please. Tell me, Geniva, did you enjoy your work as a nurse?"

"I did, yes. I enjoy helping people, as cliché as that may sound. It's very satisfying to know I've made a positive difference in someone's life." Geniva took another sip of the water. She seemed to be quite recovered from the shock of looking at the crime scene photos. She folded her hands neatly in her lap.

"These aren't the kinds of patients that you can stitch up and send back into the world, Geniva. Chances are these men aren't going to get better."

"I understand that."

"Then why would you want to work here?"

Geniva lowered her gaze to her hands, fingers twisting around each other. The warden probably didn't realize what a painful subject this was for her, how her life had been affected by a man whom many labeled insane. She hadn't talked of it in years and didn't want to start now, opting to stick with safer ground.

"The hospital that I worked at is no longer running. Last month all of the employees were dismissed and the building torn down. Apparently malls are more important than hospitals." Geniva couldn't quite keep the venom from her voice; she still found it hard to believe that they'd gotten rid of the entire staff. She had more than just a hunch that a human establishment in the same area wouldn't have been bulldozed to make room for another shopping center. That was just one of the disadvantages of trying to fit in with humans, she supposed. She sighed.

"Mr. Billingsworth - Roy - I'm going to be honest with you. I know your patients aren't going to miraculously get better. I know that I'm not going to be mending broken bones or stitching head wounds after a bar fight. But if there's any chance that I can help these people then I have to take it." _Besides, _she added silently, _living on the premises is almost free and the benefits are good. _"I'm sure you've been over my resume and checked into my background. I minored in psychiatry in college; with the riots you lost your last psychiatrist, and I'm licensed to fill his shoes, big as they may be."

"You understand that the only patients you'll be caring for are the anthros, correct?"

"Yes. I'm sure they'll take up most of my time anyway."

The warden peered at Geniva over the rims of his glasses. Finally he nodded.

"I think I chose well in hiring you. Come with me, I'll show you the grounds."

* * *

Later that night Geniva perched on the edge of the full-sized bed she'd been given, knees drawn up to her chest and bright blue eyes focused on nothing in particular. The room she had been allotted was almost as large as the bedroom she'd had back home. It was simple, with austere white walls and a soft carpet somewhere between gray and brown. A desk was positioned along the far wall in front of the room's only window, a simple chair set in front of it. She had a small closet to herself, which she thought was nice even if she didn't have many things to fill it with. The suitcases she'd brought were open on the bed behind her.

Communal bathrooms. She'd cringed when she'd heard that one. Geniva wasn't a very open person; she liked her privacy and would have preferred her own bathroom and shower, but that wasn't possible. The asylum was old and had received very little funding from the government in the past years; the warden wasn't able to afford to put in such luxuries as private bathrooms when he had dozens of patients with more pressing needs concerning him. She supposed she should consider it a blessing that her room was close to the bathroom; this way she could at least watch to see when the area was relatively empty and have some sort of privacy, though she was loathe to hear whatever it was that went on there late at night. The sharing was only made worse by the fact that Geniva hadn't seen any other anthros on the grounds. At least they wouldn't stare.

Touring the grounds with the Warden had taken up most of the day. Though the prisoners here were considered criminally insane, not all of them were drooling, rabid, teeth-gnashing monsters. In fact, many were docile enough to be allowed access to the grounds during the day, where they whiled away their time walking, gardening, or perhaps reading in the afternoon sunlight. Even if they were given a small amount of freedom, the patients never went unobserved. An orderly or a guard, sometimes both, were always nearby keeping a careful eye on things. They were quick to react; Geniva had watched as they subdued a woman that started screaming and clawing at her own eyes before she'd had a chance to do any real damage. She had been rather impressed.

Around seven Roy and Geniva had joined the majority of the staff in the cafeteria. It was a large, open room, with circular tables and loose chairs that could be moved around at will. The warden had been kind enough to walk Geniva through the line. She had half expected the typical high school fare and was pleasantly surprised to see the wide variety of foods offered to the asylum staff: pasta, fish, steak, soups, sandwiches, salads, burgers. She'd opted for a salad, and when the warden commented on her choice of "rabbit food," she'd only had to wiggle her nose at him for him to realize the humor in the situation.

They were joined at dinner by two professional looking men in their mid-thirties, both of whom introduced themselves as doctors. The doctors explained that they were in charge of the human patients on the island. Psychiatrists, by trade. They'd inquired about Geniva's psychiatric background and she'd explained her nursing degree and the dabbling that she had done with psychology and psychiatry in college. Had she ever worked with mentally ill patients before? No, she'd told them, and watched them sniff in disdain. Her back had straightened at the slight; she'd informed them that she was more than qualified to deal with the patients she'd been assigned to. Besides, she'd added, what did it matter what her qualifications were if no one gave a toss about the anthros anyway? She didn't say the rest of what she was thinking, that the anthros could die off tomorrow and no one would bat an eye. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, which didn't bother Geniva.

Once shown to her room, Geniva had taken the remainder of the night get a feel for her surroundings. She liked the room, bare as it was. The bed was comfortable and bigger than what she'd slept on in the city; she was grateful for that, not that she needed a huge bed, tiny thing that she was. One-ten soaking wet, wasn't that what they said? The window above the desk offered a nice view of the woods surrounding the asylum. She was sure she'd spend quite a bit of time staring out that window when she was supposed to be reviewing files.

"Speaking of..." she said aloud. She rose to her feet and stretched, lifting her arms above her head to get the kinks out of her back. She had work to do tonight. Unpacking, first.

Geniva hadn't brought much with her from the city. Clothes, basic toiletries, a few notebooks, and her sketch pad. She'd been provided with a laptop by the asylum, though she was warned that the wireless internet cut out sometimes and that the most secure place to get online was inside the facilities, particularly the lounge. She did have access to the computer lab if she needed it.

The anthro managed to find a spot for all of her belongings. Her clothing was stowed in the closet, an obvious choice. Fortunately she'd been provided with a few wire hangers; she'd forgotten to bring her own. Her notebooks and sketch pads were stowed inside the drawers of her desk and the laptop on top of it, toiletries placed on top of the end table near her bed just behind her alarm clock. Geniva zipped up her suitcases and slid them under her bed, glancing around. It wasn't much, but it was home now. It'd do.

After she'd unpacked, Geniva seated herself at her desk and found the files on the inmates that Mr. Billingsworth had provided for her. She perused them for some time, marking things here and there with a pen and occasionally jotting down notes in one of her notebooks. The warden hadn't exaggerated when he'd said that all of the patients had committed remarkably violent crimes. Aside from the eating and dismembering she'd seen earlier, there were cases of multiple homicide, organ removal, goring...the list was extensive.

She read with morbid fascination, but eventually she had to call it a night. Geniva found that she could only stomach so much of the graphic details provided in the folder. She was tired and officially started work tomorrow. She'd hate to show up foggy-headed and bleary-eyed.

She shoved her chair back from the desk, collecting the shower supplies that she had brought with her. They were bundled nicely in a water-resistant bag, easy for carrying to and from the restrooms. She stripped from her clothing and wrapped a towel around herself, slipping on a pair of flip flops for the short trek down the hall.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. Geniva shrugged out of her towel and flip flops, claiming one of the shower heads near the back of the room. She was dismayed to see that anyone in the restroom would be able to see anyone else; the shower heads and drains were separated by small, tiled half-walls that rose only slightly higher than Geniva's mid-stomach. Communal bathrooms were bad enough, but no privacy at all in the shower? She dreaded to think about what her schedule would need to be like to avoid people.

Paranoid about someone walking in on her, Geniva turned quickly to the matter at hand. She turned on the water and stepped under the spray, muscles relaxing under the hot water. The pressure was just hard enough to ease the knots out of her shoulders and neck; she closed her eyes and let the water cascade down her body, forgetting about the fact that she was taking a shower in an open area that anyone could walk into. She lifted her arms to run her fingers through her hair, nails scratching at her scalp.

"Mmm," she sighed. She opened her eyes to find the bottle of shampoo that she'd brought, squirting a small amount into her palm and working up a good lather before she started to run it through her hair. She started with her scalp and slowly worked it down to the roots, relishing the familiar scent of her shampoo. Coconut, lavender, pomegranate. She inhaled deeply. This wasn't so bad. She did her ears next, her touch as gentle as a whisper across her skin. Her fingers continued down her body from there, nails scraping gently against her skin, fingers covering her soft, white fur with bubbles. She moved from her neck to her chest, across her breasts, down her arms to her hands, then back up to her chest to continue further down, across her stomach and abdomen, down each leg, between her toes and on the bottoms of her feet, around her backside to her rear, a quick fluffing of her tail... Haltingly, her fingers traveled along the inside of her thighs toward her groin, the pads of her fingers lightly brushing against her lips. She didn't linger long. Soon enough she was rinsing off the suds and squirting conditioner into her hands to repeat the process. She started with her hair again, then her ears and the rest of her body. As before, she was hesitant to touch herself in more intimate areas, knowing that she was in a public area. How embarrassing _that _would be if someone walked in on her. She glanced around surreptitiously, decided it was safe enough, and lowered her fingers to the junction between her thighs. She'd only meant to briefly clean herself, but her fingers were slick with conditioner and her lips parted easily beneath her touch. She gasped softly as she felt the burning desire rise within her, the urge to slide her finger inside of her body, to feel the walls of her pussy contract around it as she brushed her thumb across her clit. Her nipples hardened; she could feel the moisture pooling between her thighs.

Geniva had started to lean back against the wall under the spray of the water, ready to slide a finger inside, when she heard the noise. Her eyes snapped open; she glanced over her shoulder at the doorway. A man stood there, staring at her, his expression unreadable.

She felt blood rise to her face and turn her cheeks pink. She'd forgotten where she was; she'd forgotten that anyone could walk in on her, and she'd been about to do the most intimate of things... Geniva squared her shoulders and turned her back to the man, quickly rinsing herself off and stepping out from under the spray. She turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself, slipping past the still staring man with her belongings tucked under her arm. She shut her door firmly behind her, glad that it could lock, and tossed her things onto the floor. She flopped onto her bed in misery.

How could I have been so stupid? My first night here and someone finds me about to touch myself in the shower! They're all going to think I'm some sort of...of...some sort of harlot! Stupid, idiot human! Why'd you have to ruin that for me?

Geniva sniffed angrily. She knew that she couldn't blame the human. He hadn't known that she'd be there, ready to slide her fingers inside of her, that her body would be on full display, nipples pert in the cool air outside the spray of the shower. She hadn't even gotten to the good bits...

No. None of that. One embarrassment was enough for the night, thanks.

Still angry at herself, Geniva found the baggy tee that served as her nighty and pulled it over her head. She shimmied into her boy-shorts a moment later. After draping her towel over the back of her computer chair she crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head, still unable to believe what had happened.

At least I wasn't actually doing anything. He didn't see anything but my tail end. And since the bathrooms are apparently co-ed - yeah, thanks for the warning about that one, Warden - it's nothing he hasn't seen before anyway. The woman bits, at least.

She managed to fall asleep some time later, embarrassed and unsatisfied.