"I have no desire whatsoever to reform myself. My only desire is to reform people who try to reform me, and i believe the only way to reform people is to kill them. My motto is: Rob 'em all, rape 'em all, and kill 'em all."

-Carl Panzram, killed 22 people, claiming he was 'rage personified.

Chapter 8

All I could do was stare into the eyes of the beautiful monster in front of me, which were an incredible shade of blue. He stared back at me with a glint in his eyes, like I was a new toy that he could play with and then rip apart when he got bored. Amazingly, I didn't care. All I could think about was the way my heart was excitedly thudding in my chest and how my arms were covered in an alien layer of goose bumps. My stomach felt sick, like it was lurching up my throat, ready to spill its contents onto the floor. It was a different feeling, a new feeling, and a welcome feeling. I didn't know whether that pleased or scared me. But, whatever it was, compelled me to stay right were I was... By his side.

His arms dangled through the bars of his cell, relaxed, like he was a home.  Dark hair was curling out of his scalp, its stubborn wisps looping around his ears. I did not know his age, only that he looked too young to be in such a place. His lips perked up when he noticed me staring and my cheeks blushed profusely in response.

"Well?" He said, voice deep. I pulled myself out of whatever daze I was in and straightened my blouse.

"Well what?" I asked cautiously, breaking his gaze to stare at the floor. I decided that it was the right time to question why a prison had pure white floors, waiting to be corrupted with the unmistakable red of blood.

"Did you miss me?" He asked smugly. His smooth voice intrigued me to look upon his face again, which had adopted a small flirtatious smile. My heart skipped a beat.

"Too be completely honest with you," I stated with a smirk, ignoring the consuming feeling of lust that grew in my stomach. "I completely forgot you existed." That, all together, was not a lie. I had more important things that demanded my undying attention. His hand swept up and was placed atop his heart. Feigned hurt consumed his features.

"You wound me, Emily." I scoffed and crossed my arms, more so to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest than anything else. But then a thought struck me... The same one that had bothered me upon our first meeting. So I gathered my courage and asked it.

"How do you know my name?"

His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows rose in disappointed surprise, like he was expecting me to ask something grander. It took a moment for him to form the words with his tongue, but when he finally brought himself to do it, it failed to satisfy. 

"I know many things, Emily." He paused for effect, "And your name just happens to be one of them." My eyebrows creased together, discouraged with his answer.

"Well, how come I've never seen you before? Or heard of you?" I said, taking a step closer to him. My heart accelerated in approval as the distance between us closed and I stood in splitting distance to the bleak black bars.  "What are you? Some kind of ghost?" The muscles contracted in my forehead as I raised a questioning eyebrow. His smirk grew wider as he noticed what little space was between our faces, showing off his perfect row teeth.

"Has anyone told you that you ask too many questions?" He said, avoiding the questions.

"Only the people who don't want to answer them." I said bitterly, subconsciously running my tongue over my teeth. With one fang permanently curved upwards and a few out of place molars, it was easy to be self conscious about something that was always on display. Stupid perfect people with their stupid perfect teeth.

He looked me over, sending a trail of warmth down my spine, and then did something that made my skin prickle with incredible heat... He laughed. The sound seemed to lighten the darkest dark places of the gloomy halls and warm the coldest cold spots of the wintry cells.

I didn't understand the feeling that was brewing in the depth of my stomach or the way my lips curled up at the sound of his laughter. But, something about it just felt right-

Wrong!

Came the persuasive voice of my subconscious.

What are you thinking Emily? He's a criminal. And a bad one if he's in a prison like this... Just think about it... He's a killer.

There it came again; the unmistakable and truthful thoughts that had tampered my feelings almost immediately.  

The memory came to me then. It was the eve of my thirteenth birthday when the last strand of my innocence fayed and broke. I remembered it like it was only the day before... Dad was sitting next to me on the couch, silently stroking the back of my hair, staring into the flickering fire in front of us.

"Why don't we trust them, Emily?" He didn't have to say who 'they' were. I knew he was talking about the monsters he locked away.

"Because they're bad people, Daddy." I said, after a pause. I turned away from the bright embers and looked up at my father. His face was unreadable, fuelled only by the coins of the tortured souls he surrounded himself with. He held the expression of a thousand different emotions, all at once. Then, in a moment, it was gone—game over. I wondered if I could insert another coin to restart his feelings, but even I knew then that it wasn't that simple. There were rules to his game and he only let some people play.

"And what to bad people do?" His voice was caring-loving even but it failed to comfort me.

"They hurt us."

"That's right, honey... They certainly do..." He said, trailing off. It was at that moment that I realised he was just as scarred as the people he kept behind bars. Something had happened to him to make him hate them. And by the way his eyes were blinking and the way his cheeks flushed red it was something serious... Something painful. I wished I knew what it was, just as I wished it would never happen to me.

His hand then stopped moving as the voice of my mother called to him from the kitchen. I didn't mistake the way he hesitated to stand up or the way he squeezed my neck before he left for the kitchen. The couch turned cold with his absence.

Their chatter was hushed and quiet from the kitchen. But, young ears hear everything.

"I'm worried, Dane... What if she gets hurt?" Came the worried voice of my mother, desperate and unsure.

"I know, I am too. But, we can't stop her from going back. You know what she's like... if I tell her 'no' then she will want to do it even more!" I sunk further into the couch, the creek of the leather causing my parents to pause.

"But she's a child!" My mother whisper shouted after several seconds of waiting.

"She's old enough now to make her own decisions! She's thirteen tomorrow. We have just got to educate her on what she needs to be afraid of—who she needs to be afraid of."

"And how do we do that?"

There was a sufficient pause before my father brought himself to reply. I tilted my head upwards, ensuring I heard every word.

"By showing her the worst."

There was another long pause before my mother replied. I imagined her reaching out to touch my fathers arm, a small sign of affection and understanding.

"But what if the same thing that happened to you, happens to her? What do we do then? Keep pretending like the little obsession she has is totally normal?" She sighed, lowering her voice more so than before. "Dane these are criminals... Murderers! And we're supposed to trust her with them?"

And then, he said something that shocked both my mother and I right down to the marrow in our bones;

"Yes..."

My father didn't know it then, but it was also the moment when everything in my life came together and I realised I had been granted with his ultimate permission. He and I both knew what I wanted to waste the rest of life on... I wanted to see what was inside a monsters mind.

To be continued...

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Thankyou for reading !!!!

This chapter will be continued in the next as it was too long to be put as one whole chapter.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

Let me know what you think xxx

Charli