Sanity | Ghorror [C]

Chapter 4 | Welcome Home

"Well, I shouldn't really be here." He said, to which I rolled my eyes.

Everyone has an explanation to justify their actions here. They all think they were in the right, that it was okay to do what they've done. That, or they deny everything. I may be a murderer that got kicks out of other peoples' agony, but I know what I did was wrong. I'm proud of what I've accomplished, even if it was bloody work.

I snit. "Hm, yeah, they all say that."

"It's true!" Ricky protested, but quickly remembered who he was talking to and let his voice shrink again. "I shot my boyfriend out of self defense. He was a cop, so the court took his side of things. His name was Garth. He was from the deep south, still caught up in the old ways I guess, and constantly beat me. One day I had enough and grabbed the gun. When he told me I didn't have the courage to shoot, that's when I pulled the trigger. I was pushed over the edge. The neighbors called the cops when they heard gunshots. Garth was dead by the time the police got there. They walk in, see one of their buddies dead on the floor and blood on my hands, of course they weren't going to take my side."

"The police are rotten." I replied quietly. "And that's coming from me."

I didn't hear much for a response, other than a very small laugh. He was very broken like an abuse victim. I can see it now. Ricky was too beautiful to live in that kind of world. Don't get me wrong; I love to destroy pretty things. If I ever got my hands on someone like him though, I would have made them a pet instead of a punching bag.

He had gone quiet and I didn't like it. I hopped down from the top bed to find him. Ricky sat on his bed with his back in the corner of it, against the wall. His knees were against his chest and his hands kept close to his heart. He looked up at me through his messy hair with obvious fear. I leaned my arms against the edge of the top bed and stared down at him.

"You're going to have to learn to relax around me if we're going to be cellmates." I informed him. "At this rate, you'll have a heart attack soon. It took me long enough to get a new cellmate. I don't want to have to wait once again for another."

"What happened to your old cellmate?" He asked, though I'm sure he was weary of the answer.

I smirked, letting a small laugh out. "I didn't kill him, if that's what you're wondering. He and I actually got along really well and he still comes to visit me. He finished his sentence a few months ago."

"O-Oh." Ricky muttered. "Um, you still haven't told me your name."

I guess I hadn't because I was too focused on learning about him. His situation interested me. He wasn't like anyone else here. No, he wasn't a killer or criminal. Just a misunderstood victim. An abused angel, stuck in a building filled with demons. Perhaps if I'm already on this "being good" thing, I can try to help him.

"Most people call me Ghost. It came from the news stories where I was on the run. They called me the Ghost Murderer. Long story, but you can call me Devin." I spoke, taking a seat next him on his bed.

"Thanks." He briefly smiled. "So I'm guessing you're in for murder, then?"

"Murders. Cross country, too. Don't worry, I was serious when I said you're too hot to kill. Plus the guard told me he'd keep my friend in general pop as long as I keep you alive. You're worth a lot more to be breathing."

Though he looked terrified by my choice of words, he responded, "Thank you... I think."

"No problem. Tonight, I'll introduce you to my friends. I hope you don't mind eating dinner with famous killers." I chuckled.

"Sounds fun." He joked. "Um, how long have you been here?"

"Two years. I was booked right after my twenty-third birthday. How old are you?"

"I just turned twenty-seven." Ricky said, shocking me.

He looked so much younger. Maybe it was those gorgeous blue eyes giving him such a sense of youth. Someone like him doesn't belong here. That is, if his story is true. I believe it, but I could be easily believing him because I've got a bit of a crush on him. The fact that he said "boyfriend" earlier meant he was some sort of sexual orientation that was attracted to men. What a sweet bonus.

"So you had a boyfriend?" I questioned.

"Y-yeah. I'm gay. Is that bad?"

I grinned. "Not at all. I'm pansexual." After saying that, I leaned in and kissed him. I winked at him, whispering, "I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

Ricky just barely broken a smile. He raised his hand to his lips, almost in disbelief that I just did that. I very much so enjoyed the way he tasted, and I hope I get some more when I can. Unfortunately I heard guards coming down the hall. I stood up from the bed, walking over to the bars to see what they were up to.

Two guards in heavy gear escorted Mike to his cell once again. He still looked just as pissed as ever. They threw him in his cell he shared with Chris, which was across from mine and over to the left. Chris wasn't in his cell at the moment, as he was in counseling. The guards threw the door closed as fast as they could manage. He was a fucking maniac. If anyone in this prison could come close to my skills, it was him. I was a lot more sneaky in my approach, whereas Mike will just rip your spin out though your throat.

He set his hands along the bars and leaned his body weight against them. Mike let his leg stick out between the iron as he hung on them. "Hey Baby." He sang to me.

"Welcome back, Mike." I snickered.

"They put me back in a cell with mister boring." He complained. "Why can't they let us have fuuun?"

"They probably know if they let us together too long, we'd figure out how to escape. Besides, I got a new cellmate." I replied.

He smiled, revealing his sharp teeth. "Oooh, can I see him?"

"Later." I smirked, backing up from the bars.

More like, never. Mike is a goddamn cannibal, and I don't want Ricky to be his next meal. The only reason he doesn't eat anyone of us is because we're his friends. Anyone that he doesn't care about, he won't hold back. He's almost attacked Vinny twice now. I love Mike because he's so hardcore, but he doesn't know when to stop.

I can't say we're like brothers in our friendship, because he and I tend to make out in the courtyard. You know, when he's not starting shit with someone. We keep each other busy. Mostly though, we're just good friends. It's because of our friendship that I know what he's capable of, and I'm keeping him at a distance from my new toy.

Let's start doing comment questions for this story since I like your input. So, comment question: Do you think Ricky's telling the truth about why he's in prison? If not, what do you think got him booked?