Electra was sure that going to "Fresh & Feasty" had always been a mistake, at least in Electra's mind. It was a lunchroom in the old building of a workplace, a relic from a time when the company had tried to create a trendy, healthy eating space for employees. Unfortunately, it had fallen short in both name and execution. As Electra approached the lunchroom, she couldn't help but recall why she had deemed it a mistake. The name, with its forced attempt at being catchy, had always struck her as a bit cringe-worthy. It sounded more like a failed marketing slogan than an inviting place to eat. She couldn't fathom how anyone had thought it was a good idea.

The exterior of the lunchroom did little to alleviate her skepticism. The door had a faded sign that read "Fresh & Feasty" in bright colors that had now lost their vibrancy. The windows were dusty, and the once-enticing images of colorful salads and hearty sandwiches had faded into dull, unappetizing smudges.

Electra paused at the entrance, her hand on the doorknob, unsure if she wanted to enter and meet Sunstreaker. With a resigned sigh, she pushed open the door and entered, "Fresh & Feasty." The interior was just as uninspiring as she remembered. Dim overhead lights cast a pallid glow over rows of empty tables, and the scent of reheated leftovers hung in the air. Sunstreaker was already waiting, not to her surprise. He'd probably been sitting there, monitoring the door for an hour to determine if she showed up. She had seriously considered it, but it would only be awkward if she ever ran into him again and had to explain why she never showed up.

"Glad you came," he sounded as if he, too, had been skeptical. Electra removed her coat, slid into the chair, crossed her legs, and laid her palms on the sticky but cool wooden table. Sunstreaker was nicely dressed in a simple t-shirt that hugged his muscular form, especially his biceps. His leather jacket was thrown over the backrest of his chair. There was little doubt that he had chosen his t-shirt for a reason: to show off that sculpted body. Arrogant. Cassiopeia thought. "Yeah..." She softly trailed off and inhaled sharply. Her eyes flashed towards the small TV and the new report about the latest victim found in an ally.

"The victim has been identified as Heather Davis, a 24-year-old city resident. The initial investigation suggests that she had been missing for several days before her body was discovered. Local residents in the area have been on edge since the discovery, fearing for their safety as the search for the perpetrator continues. Authorities have yet to release specific details regarding the circumstances of the crime..."

"Afraid?" She snapped out of the trance and snapped her head back to Sunstreaker. "Everyone is on edge," she replied, avoiding answering his question. "You are not from around, are you?" She asked. Sunstreaker shook his head, and a few strands fell over his forehead in a way that made her want to run her fingers through his hair to put them back where they belonged. "Oh, no... I am far from home, but let's not make this about me."

Electra found it strange, setting off more red flags, but she smiled tentatively regardless. "You liked cooking. Where does this passion come from?" Electra shrugged. "I don't know. I just... like creating dishes. I don't really like being around other people, so this job is perfect. I work in a small kitchen I can manage on my own." His fingers tapped on the table. "And where does this... anxiety come from?" She didn't want to talk about it. It was too personal to discuss with a stranger who didn't like talking about himself.

"I—" she cut herself off. "Just..." he slightly arched a brow. "I just don't like people," she said, returning her gaze to the TV. Her chest tightened at the picture shown of Heather. A beautiful young female with a round, attractive face and curly jet-black hair. She smiled at the photo, wearing a lovely yellow gown and pristine white high heels. Someone lost their daughter. Electra knew her throat had been slit like all the other female victims. They weren't robbed, weren't raped, weren't even beaten. Just killed with a single movement of the knife. Clean and deep. This killer had a lot of experience and a lot of strength. The strangest part is that none of these females had similarities. There was no connection between them or the killer, for that matter.

"They call him The Ripper." She turned her attention back to Sunstreaker. "Do you think it fits?" She arched a brow at the strange question. "Named after the infamous Jack The Ripper, I suppose somehow." Sunstreaker glanced at the picture of Heather before it vanished. "Their deaths don't make any sense. There are no similarities." Sunstreaker bit down on his lip, thinking. "So it seems." He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms with arrogance tugged on his face. "Do you have family?" Electra sallowed hard. "My mom died fourteen years ago, and my dad..." she shrugged. "So you're alone? No other relatives, no siblings or friends? Boyfriend?" She shifted in her chair. "I have family, just not in Kentucky. I'm originally from Los Angeles." And that was all Electra was going to say about it. The less he knew, the better.

"Not even a boyfriend?" He arched a brow. "No." She looked down at the table. "Never had or...?" She shook her head. "Any pets? Large dogs?" She looked up and tried to calm her hammering heart. Why was he asking? Large dogs, in particular, seemed strange. "Do you like dogs?" She asked instead, avoiding answering. It was a wicked smile that curved his lips. Pure evil. "I don't like keeping pets." Before she could reply, the waitress walked up to their table.

"Electra?"

The latter almost grimaced. "Jennifer," she greeted stiffly. She knew Jennifer. She lived in the same apartment building only two doors away. She was striking with her thick red hair cascading down her back waves, big green-eyed and porcelain, freckled skin. She was fierce. Too fierce for Electra's liking and she tended to show Electra she didn't like her in any way. Even if it meant calling her out in public. Electra had forgotten she worked here and why she so fiercely avoided this place.

Jennifer's gaze slid to Sunstreaker, ogling him. She couldn't blame her. Electra couldn't tell if Sunstreaker enjoyed it, but he certainly wasn't interested. "Card?" It was a demand, and he wanted to be obeyed. There was no kindness whatsoever. Jennifer visibly shivered and handed over the card with a forced smile. Maybe she, too, felt uncomfortable, or perhaps all she could think about was his cock. It wasn't uncommon for her to have several different partners a week. Which only added to Electra's pile of things she didn't like about her. It meant a lot of creepy, sometimes older guys passing her door. Most of them are drunk or high on drugs.

"You can leave." Jennifer pinned Electra a glare before matching off. Was that jealousy? She couldn't tell. "So much for customer service," Sunstreaker growled. "I thought you said you had no friends." She snorted. "We are not friends, if you hadn't noticed the glare she gave me. She's a bully, and I am often the target. I forgot she worked here." Sunstreaker took in her words carefully. "Has she ever hurt you?"

"A few times, but she enjoyed abusing my anxiety more." A muscle ticked Sunstreaker's jaw before he turned towards the menu and said: "Take whatever you want." She fumbled with her fingers to settle the nerves. After ten minutes of awkward silence, Electra couldn't bear it anymore. "I have told things about myself. Tell me something about you. Like... do you have siblings?" It was a neutral question; she would get some information about him. Maybe useful for in the future. "A twin brother," was all he said. It was something. It was a start. "Any hobbies?"

"Drawing."

Another short answer. He truly didn't like talking about himself. Something she had expected he would like. He had enough arrogance. "What do you draw?" He averted his gaze from the menu. Tell me something, just anything, she mentally begged. "All sorts of things," he replied after a long, tensed silence. "Do you like living here, Electra?" The way her name rolled of his tongue had her skin flush. "No." It was out before she could give it a second thought, but she was hypnotized by his eyes and the way they held her gaze. Remarkable, beautiful eyes.

The wicked smile tugged on his lips again. "Then why do you live here? Why are you still here in this shit hole?" His demeanor cha her. While he had been calm seconds ago, his eyes darkened. Like insanity and madness overtook him, his hand tightened around the knife on the table. Her heart hammered. "I had no choice back then... and I don't have enough money to leave now," she mumbled, looking away. This was wrong. He was wrong. She should call the police to do a background check on him. "So you wish to leave?"

This town, not this earth, she thought grimly but shrugged instead. "If nothing ties you here..." he mumbled, mostly to himself. Electra fought the urge to run home and hide. "So, where do you live in this shit hole?" Retorting the nickname. Something flashed in his eyes. Did he know she was trying to get information? Would he know she would see the police after this?
"You're eager about my whereabouts." She shrugged. "You ask me questions, why can't I ask you?" The less she lied, the less suspicious he would be, and she had a damn good feeling he could taste her lies. Those eyes were creepily focused on the artery in the neck as if he could see right through her skin and flesh and see the life coursing through it.

"You haven't told me where you live," he said, avoiding the question. She would never tell him in a million years. Jennifer returned. "Have you been able to make a choice?" Electra sighed and quickly skimmed the menu card. "You know her?" Electra snapped her head up. Jennifer, too, seemed surprised, maybe a little shocked. "We live at the same apartment building on Roseburg 5th Ave." Sunstreaker flashed a completely different smile than he had given her so far. This smile was fake but charming, sexy, and even a little seductive." Jennifer melted for it. "Can I have the crispy chicken sandwich, please?" The red-head snapped out of her daze and took the card.

The smile on Sunstreaker's face faltered. "The same. One beer and a green iced tea." Electra froze. He knew she liked it? Even she had never told him? Hadn't even ordered anything until now? It only added more suspicion. There was no doubt that he was playing a game. Sunstreaker's eyes landed on her. "You know I like ice tea?" The male leaned onto the table, his muscles mouthwateringly rippled and flexed as he shifted. He seemed to be sculpted into perfection. Electra couldn't name one thing that wasn't perfect except his strange and cold demeanor. "A guess."

"You were pretty specific with your guess then." He shrugged. She couldn't wait for this dinner to be over. To go home and lock the door. She still had to go through an entire lunch with him. "You are suspicious, darling." Electra stared at him but stayed where she was and simply decided to ignore the nickname.