The Devil's Touch | Kylo Ren

SIX

She's not crazy. No, she can't possibly be – but this temptation of darkness is what draws her light into the trappings of inky insanity. The creed within is emancipating, and the hope of regaining it, seemed to be more difficult than just letting it sail out of her chest, and into the chilly wind's despair.

Eve had never been wilfully converted into the church, but it was her own traitorous and departing parents, who had summoned on the proselytism and locked her into the house of God, forevermore – she had nowhere else to go back then, otherwise she would be considered an orphan, so she resentfully allowed the light to nurture her... but still, there was never a day where she didn't feel invisible, or impalpable to the Lord's voice during her constant vacillation.

Though, ever since she had left the monastery for the shadows of White-Ivy, the smothering of treachery is burrowing into the beat of her heart, where the faith is slowly burning away again, and into the bitter fires of the Devil's domain – and it was all because of one, insane man, who didn't believe that he was either the Lord, nor Satan's humble servant, but in-fact, he was just a human, who had been damaged by the ongoing fights between the light and dark.

Kylo Ren – even his name tastes like freedom, despite the everlasting factor that he is someone who has been rightfully stripped from liberty and amnesty, for the rest of his inauspicious life.

Guards escorted the inmate down a horrifically darkened hallway, where prisoners constantly reached out their filthy hands through the open bars, trying to grip or lash onto anything they could to satisfy their deadly needs – not knowing that the deadliest man in this penitentiary, was the very one walking down the corridor, with shackled hands, two guards and a timid Sister by his tall side.

Eve swallowed uncomfortably at the freakish nature unfolding in the cells that they pass on the lower levels of the western ward. This certain area was the wing closest to the dining hall, and where the patients who were lesser threats stayed, meaning most shared a cell with other inmates, but weren't given the privacy of walls, nor doors – all they had was a cage of bars around them... and they seemed to ravish on the excitement of watching one of the sickest, walk through their territory.

Patient 727 was like a untethered tiger walking through a small-town street, but Sister Eve undoubtably knows that the other patients wouldn't be so snark, if the tiger's limbs weren't shackled, and they weren't hidden on the other side of their fences.

Guard Roberts wore a smug smile as he lead Kylo Ren, swinging around his baton and even banging it against the sides of some cells, when the prisoners would chortle something crude about him – but never did he care for the disgusting remarks they made about the young Sister who followed, to which Kylo Ren only wrung his shackles tighter around his wrists, resisting the temptation to break a few extended arms with the silver chain instead.

Eve didn't utter one word, nor meet Kylo's gaze upon summoning him out of his cell. Her throat was tightened by the unshakable knot of dread and the apprehension was seeping further and further into her bones. Her words had still been stolen by Patient 727, because of last night – to which she tried to collect them this morning, but still, she had no idea where her head was at, and how she was supposed to refuse his hidden propositions.

He is the silhouette of primordial fear, and the lust in his eyes hold the realm of the unknown. Eve's mind is riding the winds of her own imagination, trying to decipher through the damage of faith, and find where her morality may still inhabit – she seems to keep forgetting about the fact that Kylo Ren is a psychotic serial killer, and despite his boasts that he did all those horrible things, for a greater good – it was still unnerving.

But when she eventually leads him into the dining hall, where only a few patients occupy the space – huddling around a small, fuzzing television – she meets his eyes for the first time that day. In the golden ring that rises in the deep brown of his orbs, she can almost see her own reflection, and the truth that rests upon the crimson of her cheeks.