Monster Minds [completed]

Chapter 14

"We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow [...] I don't think anybody doubts whether I've done some bad things. The question is: what, of course, and how and, maybe even most importantly, why?"

-Ted Bundy, American serial killer, kidnapper, rapist, burglar, and necrophile who assaulted and murdered numerous young women and girls during the 1970s. He confessed to 30 homicides.

Chapter 14

The night had passed quickly and quietly, the sun setting before I could say goodbye. The black sky had come and gone, turning yellow in the morning sunlight. My mother refused to speak to me, slamming the door behind her when she returned from the hospital about an hour after I did.

With my father's words still fresh in my memory, I had a new fever in my veins to find something that would give me access to the files I needed. That meant I had to spend another painstaking day inside the prison walls with the man I wasn't supposed to like. I was beginning to feel like I was spending more time in those walls than in my own at home.

A soft buzz from my pocket vibrated my phone against my thigh, awakening me from my thoughts. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, surprised to see a message from Nicola.

Nic- Party tomorrow night at my place, wanna come?

Sure. I'll be there at six?

Nic- Sounds good. See you then. Send my wishes to your Dad.

I smiled, pleasantly surprised that I had something to look forward to, other than work. I hurried to pack my things, childish excitement already affecting my motivation and mood. Making an effort to look slightly presentable, I applied some makeup on my eyes and lips, in an attempt to make my blue eyes pop.

The sun shined down unnecessarily bright as I took the first stepped out onto the porch; the yellow glare paining my sensitive eyes into a soft squint. I slung my small bag over my shoulder and began a slow jog to the bus stop. It contained an apple, some files and my phone, while my recorder and a vial of lipgloss were tucked snugly into my jean pocket. The gentle thud of my feet against the pavement steadied my breathing and calmed my growing nerves.

I didn't know where I was going to find the information I needed to gain access to the guard files, but I needed it desperately. Avoiding the Welshes would also prove a challenge, as they seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere. Just thinking about them sent a wave of unpleasant shivers down my spine, almost making me lose my footing on the sidewalk.

The bus smelt like fish sticks and wet dog fur. By the end of the trip, I had never been more thankful for the fresh air that I consumed as I took my first few steps towards the prison. Its huge walls and barbed wire fences looked as they usually did; rusted and run down, crumbling at the edges, holes in the wire. I ran my tongue over my teeth, annoyed that my endless complaints about the state of the walls hadn't been acted upon. Someday, someone would break out and they would all be sorry for not listening to me.

Once I signed in and the office ladies gave me their usual glare, I strolled down the hallways, not quite sure of what I was going to do with my day. I swung my arms, annoyed that there was nothing I could really do, and unknowingly made my way towards Van's cell.

Harsh murmurs froze my legs mid-stride. A small smile found it's way onto my lips as my boredom evaporated, replaced with sublime curiosity. I slipped my hand into my pocket and turned my tap recorder on, making sure I captured everything. I quietly bent down and untied my shoes, holding them secure in my hands when I was done.  I crept closer to the sounds of angst, silent socks sweeping across the floor as I pressed myself up against the wall.