"That is my ambition, to have killed more people-more helpless people-than any man or woman who has ever lived."

- Jane Toppan confessed to 31 murders in 1901. She was found not guilty by reason of insanity.

Chapter 18

Seeing a dead body was not like I had imagined it to be.

You can see them, you can touch them, you can smell them, but at the same time, they are not there. Like an empty shell, their body lacks fulfillment of any kind and the air around them is vacant and cold. Your body feels limp, as if their death had drawn the life out of your own soul and used it to carry themselves to the afterlife.

The police, ambulance, and the forensics had arrived half an hour after the phone call had been made. They were in no hurry; inmates on death row were of the least priority in the eyes of the law. As they lifted his body onto a stretcher, a deep sigh escaped from between my lips, like fog on a winter's day, and I found myself in desperate need of an embrace.

An odd smell clung to air around me, unsettling my giddy stomach to the point where I may have hurled its contents onto the stone floor if I breathed too deep. The officers could smell it too, as they scrunched up their noses while they shouted over the top of one another, desperately trying to figure out what happened to the prisoner.

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered, closing my eyes in an attempt to rid myself of the image of Even's remains. But, when my lids touched together, I couldn't escape the horrific sense of unease that came with seeing a dead, mutilated body. I knew the image would follow me home, slip under my coves, and wait beside me until I fell asleep, where it would then pounce upon my chest with a ferocity that only nightmares could muster.

A delicate touch of a hand against a shoulder momentarily tore me away from my thoughts and brought me back into the world of the living. Soft fingers squeezed the skin of my shoulder, igniting a line of flames down the slope of my arm and awakening my stiff hands. I placed my own hand atop it, already knowing it belonged to Vans.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently.

Already been questioned by the police and the guards, Vans would only roam free for little while longer. The guards and police were distracted, and even the Welshes didn't seem to notice that a prisoner had been left unguarded, as they were deep in conversation with the paramedics. As soon as the air cleaned and the body was taken away for an autopsy, Vans would be back in his cell.

"Yeah," I managed to croak out, "I'm fine."

I finally managed to pull my gaze from the corpse and focus my attention on the man in front of me. It had been a while since someone had shown an interest in me and it felt good to feel wanted. My cheeks reddened upon remembering our close encounter, only an hour before, and immediately remembered my father's words.

Don't waste your time on him.

I closed my eyes and sighed, the day's events had completely drained me of any energy stored in my body, making my muscles feel lethargic and incapable of movement. But, there was something in my heart that made me want to fight so badly against everything my father said, and trust what I felt in my heart.

The Welshes were no where to be seen, so I took the opportunity to approach one of the police officers and ask the questions that needed to be answered.

As my feet pulled me towards a dark skinned female officer, I noticed the tension that clung to each person in a uniform. I could almost see it clinging to their shoulders and forcing them to slump slightly forwards, dragging down their body with their undeniable weight.

As I stopped in front of the women, she pulled her gaze from the cloaked body to meet my own. In her eyes I saw years of trauma and pain, and that day, no doubt, only added another load of stress. I almost turned away, not wanting to pry at someone who so desperately needed a break, but before I could, she began to speak.

"Ask whatever you need to ask, but do it quickly, so I can get out of this hell hole and back to my family." She said firmly, thick brows furrowed.

I opened my mouth and then closed it, probably looking like a gaping fish, and reconsidered my questions. I didn't want to keep her from her family, so I only asked the questions that were absolutely necessary.

"Has anyone been able to identify the cause of death?"

"No one will know for certain until the autopsy, but I think its safe to say he died from blood loss. All those injuries... he would have died within an hour."

"But he has been missing for several days..." I trailed off, talking more to myself than to the women. She shrugged.

"That stuff is for the forensics and investigators to figure out. All the information they gather will go to Dane Silverman to finalize. I wouldn't stress yourself over it. They're just prisoners."

I recoiled at her words, disgusted by the mentality of the people who surrounded me. They were not just prisoners; they were people, living and breathing people. They deserved just as much justice as the rest of the human population and just as much safety.

I was a strong believer that people should not be judged by a few moments in their past, but on how they are now. If someone was doing everything in their power to be forgiven by those around them, then there is no reason why they shouldn't be given redemption. They are all condemned to death anyway, so what's the harm in giving them a little compassion and love before they go?

"Will the number of guards be increased?" I broke the silence, folding my arms in front of my chest. I had yet to register that my father was back in on the

"Yes, until the guy who did it is found, anyways. Hopefully the guards will be safe now. You know, safety and numbers and all." She laughed softly to herself, pleased at her joke.

"And the prisoners." I said, biting my cheek to keep myself from saying anything more.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow.

"The prisoners will be safe too."

She stared at me, her face void of expression, and rolled her dark eyes.

"They are on the death row anyways. In my opinion, whoever is doing this is doing them a favor."

Anger clenched its tight fist around my belly and twisted. I grinded my teeth together to keep myself from crying out in fury and balled my hands into fists. I gathered my courage to keep my mouth shut as I spun on my heel and stalked away from the women whose past had corrupted her thoughts.

I stormed over to Vans, who was half hidden in the shadows of the hallway. He looked almost bored as he observed the commotion unraveling in front of his eyes. His dark hair flopped over his eyes, momentarily shielding their great brightness from the world.

"Can you believe that?" I said, quite obviously peeved at what I had just heard.

"What?" He asked, rolling his head towards my approaching figure.

"The police officer I just talked to! She doesn't even care that you are all in danger. All she cares about is the other guards. How is that even plausible? Not one guard has been killed yet, but too inmates have!" My voice rose in anger and my fists clenched at my sides. Vans quickly looked around before pulling me closer, so close that I could feel his body heat radiating off of him like the summer's sun.

"Don't say those things so loudly, Emily. People will get the wrong idea." He whispered, clutching my arms in his strong hands. "You're going to have to get used to the fact that you may be the only person who works here that genuinely cares about our wellbeing. We are all criminals, Emily. They have reasons to be so unkind."

"Yeah, but not reason enough." I murmured, allowing my arms to go limp at my sides. He relaxed his grip, but continued to gently hold onto my arms, warming my entire body. He smiled lazily; cheeks relaxed as one side of his mouth quirked upwards, revealing one perfect row of teeth.

"You should go home and get some rest, you've been through a lot today." He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down the length of my arms. "I have a feeling someone is going to realize soon that they've let a prisoner be unguarded for over an hour." His eyes sparkled with silent laughter.

"But what about this?" I gestured to the scene behind me, "Don't you want to know what happened?" I lowered my voice, "What if it was the guards on the tape."

His expression suddenly turned so serious, it could kill a kitten.

"I do want to know, Emily. But it won't be figured out in one afternoon." His expression relaxed. "You need rest. You deserve some time to de-stress."

"Maybe you're right." I sighed, reluctantly pulling myself from his grip. "But I'll be seeing you again tomorrow to figure out what exactly is going on with the Welshes. Hopefully, my Dad will be back soon so they can finally stop controlling me."

"No one can control you, Emily." He chuckled softly and pushed himself off the wall.

He leant down, and for a moment, I thought that he would kiss me. But, at the last possible moment, when our noses were nearly touching, he twisted swiftly and kissed my temple, leaving me with my mouth agape as he strolled towards the guards.

Distantly, I heard him say; "Guards? I think you forgot something."

They swore as I chuckled, instantly handcuffing him and dragging him down the hallways towards his cell. His laughter bounded off the walls, as he was taken further away from me, and closer to the heart of the prison.

I knew I needed to go home and rest, but for the life of me, my mind couldn't stop thinking about Even Parkers body. Whoever killed him wasn't scared of me, or anyone for that matter.

I knew for certain it couldn't have been Vans, as he was with me for at least two hours. It couldn't have been the Welshes because they were in their office talking to Gary Ridgeway. It couldn't be Gary Ridgeway because he was in the office with them. And it couldn't have been most of the prisoners because they were all eating lunch in the Cafeteria. That left the guards.

There was no way I could go to that party later that night. No, my night would be spent worrying and dwelling on the small facts that had been pushed under my nose, to somehow come up with enough evidence to convict the guards of murder.

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Hey guys!

THANKYOU FOR THE 3k!! I updated early for y'all aide of that ;).

Just a note, I wanted to make sure you guys understand that I do not agree with Emily's beliefs of the prisoners or inmates and I in no way condone the killing of others. These are Emily's beliefs that she has developed over the years of influence and experiences with particular inmates, not mine. Whoever kills another (excluding self defence and necessity) should be punished accordingly to the rules of the country.

Off the serious topic, how did you guys like the chapter ?!

Leave your thoughts in the comments!

And just a heads up, things are about to speed up real quick ;)

Are you excited? I know I am.

Xxcharli.