The Dog paced, as he usually did when on solitary days like this. His social interactions were fairly rare, even though his conditioning kept him as docile as the pet of his namesake. He was expecting a visitor today, apparently. One of the guards had said something about it. He didn't know what it meant. Could mean they had finally found a way to kill him that wasn't drowning. Or maybe they'd have him fight someone again. Like that robot samurai thing. He didn't like fighting. 

What they didn't realize was that the conditioning hadn't changed much of his real mind. Ford Thomas was angry. All the time. Seething with rage nonstop, which only released when they gave the command. Like some kind of perverse orgasm denial but instead of pleasure, it was violence. In the moments after the command, Ford was free. He delighted in the violence. It gave him a pleasurable high like nothing else in the world. Consuming. Devouring. Growing. Nothing felt better in the whole world. And then they said that miserable halt command and suddenly he was ashamed, scared of what he had been, trembling from the adrenaline like a scared little boy. 

It was no wonder he barely reacted when the body came tumbling down the chute. He cocked his head at it. 

"PBV-2424. Incoming command. Remove your muzzle at this time." 

He hated this process. Being forced to eat another human being to clean up after their messes. But food was food. Maybe this one knew something pleasant? Remembered a nice song... He would get flashes of their memories. Nothing specific. Never anything useful. Just... random bits. Sounds and images. Maybe he'd had a nice family The Dog could pretend was his own for a few minutes. He felt the electronic latch on his muzzle come undone, and he pulled it from his face, wiping away the drool from his lower lips as he stared miserably at the body. He didn't want to-

"Sic 'em." 

MEAT! The only thing in the entire world worth having was here, right here, in front of him and oh how succulent it appeared! A ripping, tearing, oh the wonderful sensation of digging teeth into flesh and tearing away the bloody chunks! This one was cold but what did it matter when you could feel the dribbling of their life essence down your chin and neck? When you could feel the meat under your growing claws? A chunk from the neck to test the flavor, yes, just a nibble, just a nibble that would kill any man in seconds! 

Yes, an unlatching of the jaw now. How could he wait? How could he wait another second before eating this snack whole? Or maybe a bite or two along the way yes a big bite yes just to hear the bones crunch and feel them snap under the teeth yes it was so good god yess feel the crunch of the ribs and the gentle hiss of the bursting lungs oh in the name of all things holy it was divine it was sensational just a quick swallow and then he could crack those delicious femurs and feel the marrow in his throat yes yes yes yes crunch snap yes YES YES YES YES ALL OF IT DOWN FEEL THE MASS BECOME HIS FEEL THE ENERGY, THE MEAT, THE BONE AND TISSUE MAKING HIM STRONGER, BETTER, YES. HE COULD KILL ANYTHING. HE COULD KILL [i]EVERYTHING!![/i]

"Heel."

Ford looked down. The man was gone. Just a bloody spot. Next came a towel and some wretching from a guard who'd been dared to watch the process. A newbie, probably. One of them had died last week, right? He bungled the command word during a testing and he'd been impaled before the control room could say it on the intercom. Reeled in like a struggling fish. The memory nauseated Ford now. Especially how much he'd relished it in the moment. He hated his other self. It didn't hate him back. It was too busy with the meat. 

It wasn't until he'd changed his clothes, washed the blood away with the small hose in his room, and was reaching to put his muzzle on that two small plastic objects slid out of his hand and into the sink. He looked at them, but didn't touch them. They looked electronic, yes... 
Earpieces? Why did the prisoner have ear pieces? Was this a music thing? 

The intercom crackled. "2424, do not delay in replacing your muzzle." 

Ford palmed the earpieces, acting like he was wiping something from the sink and then he put his muzzle back on, sliding in the earpieces as he did so as stealthily as he could manage. He was not well versed in sleight-of-hand, but he'd picked a pocket or two back when he was homeless. 

"Thank you, 2424. Was your meal satisfactory?" 

It was a bit hard to hear them, but The Dog knew the question already. He gave a thumbs up. It wasn't satisfactory. It was humiliating and disgusting. But if he ever gave them a thumbs down... they just sent another body.