Monster Minds [completed]

Chapter 19

"When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay. How does one cure himself? I can't stop it, the monster goes on, and hurts me as well as society. Maybe you can stop him. I can't."

- Dennis Rader, known as the BTK Killer (standing for "Bind, Torture, Kill") murdered 10 people between 1974 and 1991.

Chapter 19 (grab some tissues)

It had been a week since Even Parkers body was found and I was still trying desperately to recover. I had found nothing more in the files that shrouded my room and Vans hadn't found anything amongst the whispers of the prisoners. My father, who was recovering quite quickly, would be back to work in less than a week.

I had a feeling he was deeply disappointed in me for not making any progress on the case. But, when I complained that the replacements wouldn't allow me to see George, he had called up the prison and made it clear that I was allowed access to question all the prisoners. And all the prisoners included George.

I was giddy with happiness as the sun rose on the horizon and shone golden over the sparkling dew grass. Now that the Welshes couldn't stop me from seeing George, I finally had the chance to save him from further prosecution. All I had to do was prove he was nowhere near the two victims at the time of their death and hope that he had an alibi.

The prison was dark when I arrived, darker than usual.

An atmosphere of death clung to the air like decay. No one whispered a word about the body, but it invaded their thoughts like the plague; latching its cold hand onto their brains and twisting the soft matter in its fist.

The cells, which had been recently cleaned, could not brighten the mood with the whiteness of their mattresses. Instead, they served to remind the inmate's of the pitiful life they lived, where the only bright source of light came from a cleaned bed.

I quickly decided that it was not the day to be seen by the prisoners; they didn't need me to remind them further of the fact they were faced with every day; one way or another, they would die at the gloved hands of an official with a needle. So instead of going my usual way, past the cafeteria, I used the elevator that led directly up to the office level, walked through the upstairs, and came down another elevator at the other side of the prison.

I walked at a brisk pace, my heeled feet screaming in agony, to reach the cell that held Uncle George. Comforted by my fathers phone call, I knew no one would stop to question me about what I was doing. But, I knew the cell would be heavily guarded, as they were holding him there until further evidence could be gathered about Harvey James, so it would be hard for me to have a private word with George. I had to be more cautious about what I said to him, or I needed to find a way to speak to him without being heard.

There were questions I needed to ask that would be dangerous if heard.

As I finally rounded the corner to the highly guarded cell, which looked much like the other grey cells, my breath was caught in my throat by the skinny fingers of anxiety.

What if he didn't want to see me?

What if he hates me for not getting him out?

What if everything I did was for nothing?

The thoughts zoomed within my mind like tiny racecars on steroids. The only thing that stopped me from crumbling to the floor in messy heap was the penetrating gaze of the guards that lined the walls.

I straightened suddenly, not wanting to appear weak. As I rushed forwards, the guards stepped aside, revealing the face of the man whose innocence I had been fighting for.