Once I reach my apartment, I hurriedly shut the door and press my back against the other side, breathing a sigh of relief. From my pocket, I pull out two vials of an auto-syringe, a mechanized injection tool. Inside it is a blue liquid that serves as the lifeblood of any hybrid.

I wriggle out of the stuffy coat and sit on my creaking bed. A firm mattress is better for your back I hear, but I think the soft mattresses in hotels are much more luxurious. Not that I'll ever get to experience one of those again. 

The syringe's needle pops out as I twist the back, turning the little machine on, lights and all. Freaky little thing. I wipe away any worries from my mind and press it against the side of my stomach. As the protrusion sinks into my flesh, I hold my breath until the cold metal head of the tool touches base with the rest of my tummy. It blinks yellow twice before turning a solid green. 

What comes next is something inexplicably weird. I'd describe it as the feeling of relief you get after holding in your pee for what feels like days, except it tingles throughout your whole body. Shivers travel from my spine to my extremities; it feels so good that I let out a laugh. I must look insane.

This is the pleasure and curse that only hybrids can feel.

A dependency on Monopyriacs.