Sanity | Ghorror [C]

Chapter 3 | Angel Eyes

"Well hello Beautiful." I purred.

My eyes couldn't learn to stop looking at him. He was gorgeous. I knelt down by his bedside. Gently, I brushed his hair out of his face. He jumped back, causing his restraints to rattle. I laughed to myself as I got a familiar surge of happiness. Oh, how I miss seeing someone fight against bound wrists in efforts to get away from me. I fed off of the fear that linger's in human eyes.

His irises finally showed to me as he stared in utter terror. His black hair hung in front of his eyes like blood dripping down a knife. Gorgeous blue eyes shook in my presence. When he saw my Devil's smile, he started to fight his restraints even more. I found it humorous and reminiscent of my days of freedom. I reached up to his face and set my hand on his jawline. He froze, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath, as if it would make me go away.

I can tell how much fun I'm going to have with this one. He was absolutely gorgeous. I was going to take my time in breaking him, though he looks easy to rip apart. I'll have to be careful with my new toy. I pulled my touch from him as I heard the steps of a guard coming down the corridor.

"Watch yourself, Sola." He sneered at me as I hoisted myself into the top bed.

I grinned while shooting him a dirty look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I'm sure." The guard snit. He unlocked our cell, slamming the door behind him. "You've already shell shocked him and he's only been here five minutes."

As I pulled my current book from the corner of my bed, I replied, "I have done no such thing."

He leaned over the lower bed and pulled a different key from his belt. "Uh-huh. Right. I'll make you a deal. Mike is getting put back in general pop today. I'll let him stay there for as long as Richard here is alive."

Richard. So that's the 'coon's name. The guard unlocked his bindings, standing back up straight once he did. I wasn't planning on killing him anyways because I doubt I'd get another roommate as perfect as him. However, the others wouldn't be happy if I didn't take a deal like that. It is Mike's fault he keeps getting thrown in solitary confinement. He picks fights constantly, that usually end in a blood bath. I, on the other hand, plan to keep Richard very alive.

"He's too hot to kill." I said.

The guard moved out of our cell. He shut the gate and told me, "You're not what I'm worried about killing him. You have to keep him alive. That means protecting him from yourself, other inmates, and himself." Himself? "Got it?"

"Got it." I mocked him.

He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself about what trash I am. Whatever. Funny how he'll treat me the way he does, yet he's read my profile. He knows how many people I've killed and how I've killed them. Why would he test me? I'm trying my best to get favored for good behavior but the guards abuse the shit out of that fact.

I sat in silence for about ten minutes as I read my book casually and thought. He needs to be protected from himself? That could mean more than just straight forward suicidal tendencies. He could have mental issues that go beyond depression. After all, he obviously did something to get thrown in prison. This isn't just a town jail, it is a maximum security prison. Whatever he did, it was big.

When fifteen minutes had passed without any word out of him, I was getting annoyed. I saved my page in my book and shut it.

"What, are you a mute or something?" I asked from where I laid in my bed over his.

Nothing. Quiet. The sounds of other inmates talking and such filled the halls, but our cell was silent. I guess he must be. Well that isn't much fun for me. How the Hell am I supposed to live with someone that doesn't talk for fuck knows how long.

"N-no." I heard him mutter.

It was much to my surprise, because he took so long I thought I wasn't going to get an answer. His voice was barely audible, but I heard it. I instantly wanted more.

"The guard said your name was Richard." I commented.

"Ricky." He murmured.

Much better. I liked the sound of that way more. It suit him well.

"You have a last name?" I asked him.

"Olson." He responded.

I'm only getting one-word responses and it's frustrating me. It's not giving me much of his voice to hear. He has barely spoken, but I can tell he does have a sexy tone to him. It's just buried under all his fear. Ricky seemed to be doing better now that he can't see me, only hear me. We'll have to keep it that way for the time being. I decided to ask the one question I knew he couldn't give me just a word in response.

"What are you in for?"

...Nothing. So we're back to quiet? Great. This is a bad cycle and it's making me angry. Finally, he managed to respond weakly.

"Well..."