Fear || Grayson Dolan

o n e

I stepped outside of the car, and that was when I first smelt it. The smell of prison.

A mist pressed close, all around me, so close that it was more like a blanket than a fog. I wrapped my cardigan closer around my body as I made my way towards the large iron gates in front of me.

Clicking the intercom, I pushed my glasses up my nose, "Hi, I'm Teddy Harris, I have a scheduled appointment with Grayson Bailey Dolan."

Hearing the gates begin to open, I sighed as I was greeted by an official looking officer. Smiling at me, he stands aside for me to walk in beside him.

"Now I have to warn you Miss Harri--"

"It's just teddy"

"Teddy, Grayson is one of our worst young defenders. I hope you done your research."

"Sir, I have studied law and psychology for the past 4 years, I understand how the mind works. His mind is some what...unique."

Walking through the hallways to a secured cell, I tucked my hair behind my ear as I held my books closer to my body. This was my first case since finishing university and I was assigned to him. 

"Just click the buzzer if you need the officer, we don't want him to get riled up so we will be watching you through the cameras."

Clicking a combination into the lock on the door, he opened it slowly, and that was when I saw him.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed, hooded eyelids with the most beautiful eyes staring into your soul while hiding many emotions, not the eyes of a serial killer, so young, so beautiful. The dimple on his right cheek. The way his cheekbones raise when he smirks, oh that devious smirk. The platinum blonde hair, the slitted eyebrows and the piercings on his nose, ears and eyebrow. The way his hands clasped together as he sat in thought, probably thinking about his next victim.

"You have 25 minutes"

There he sat, deep in thought. The one I had been warned about, upon hearing the door open he looked up and smirked.

"Good morning Grayson, my name is Teddy Harris"

Licking his bottom lip he sat back in his chair, as his hands were attached to the small table in front of us.

"And I'm Grayson Dolan, the serial killer"

Taking a seat opposite him, I folded my hands on the table, where he quickly leant forward.

"What is a pretty girl like you, doing in a place like this?"

Placing his hand on mine, he rubbed in a circle expecting me too hesitate from his touch, his touch so soft, "Hands off Dolan", a voice rang through the speakers, lifting his hands in defeat, "Not like I could reach her neck"

"Grayson, I'm here to give you some advice"

"Your advice being? 'oh plead guilty and get your sentence lessened to 100 years?'"

The sarcasm laced in his voice was toxic, so toxic I could smell it.

"Grayson, I'm here to ask how you are"

"I've killed people before" he chuckled, sitting back in his chair, copying his action, I sighed, "I know", looking up through his hooded eyes, he smirked.

"I could kill you"

"You wouldn't"

"But I could"

This story is for audiences 16 and over as it contains mature themes.