"I wished I could stop but I could not. I had no other thrill or happiness."
-Dennis Nilsen, convicted of murder of at least 15 innocent people.
Chapter 9
"mily..."
"Emily!" Yelled the voice that brought me back to the present day.
My eyes, unfocused and confused, saw nothing but blurs. That was until they focused back onto the beautifully worried face of the man I was yet to put a name to.
"Sorry, what?" I asked, still in a slight daze.
"I said..." He paused, over exaggerating like I'd kept him waiting for five minutes. Had I?
"Why did you let those men walk all over you before? Looked to me like you were more on top of it then they were." He elegantly raised his eyebrow again and leant forward on the bars of his cell. In the confusion I had failed to realise a guard should have been stationed outside his door. So why is there no one in sight?
Suspicion kicked whatever feelings I had before in the gut, taking over my senses.
Refusing to answer the question I asked the one thing that came to mind.
"And what did you do to get locked up in here?" I snapped, bringing the venom back into my voice. His mouth curved downwards as he rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by my answer.
Taking a step backwards, he sat down onto the grey sheets that covered his flimsy bed. I took his sudden silence and opportunity to slyly investigate his cell. It was then that I noticed his walls were as bland and empty as the hallways. There were no picture frames, no drawings, no etches into the cement, no nothing. It was its emptiness that made me take a step backwards and consider his mental capability. For all I knew, he could've been a sociopathic serial killer. It was a good thing he was behind bars, which brought me a slither of comfort and a slight sense of security.
"Why haven't you asked my name yet?" He said softly, eyes flicking up to mine.
"I figured you'd just eventually tell me." I shrugged.
"It's Vans," He said, sighing. I couldn't help the smile that was drawn on my face. It was hard to believe that a monster could have the name Vans. It was hard to believe anyone could have the name Vans. "It's a nickname. I used to wear the shoes all the time." He leant back on his single bed, lifting a foot up into the air. "Still do." He gestured to his feet, which were fitted nicely into a white pair of vans. I smiled in spite of it.
"Well, Vans... I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." I said, honestly, with a small smile.
Turning away from him I realised what I should have noticed before; his cell was right across from Even's. If he was awake then surly he would have seen what happened last night. I needed to talk to him about it before the Welsh's bribed him into some sick deal for his information.
"What happened to Even Parker?" I asked sternly, turning to face him again. He had moved from his bed and was now leaning with his back against the bars.
"I know just as much as you do." He said with a sigh, but he didn't turn around to face me or look me in the eye. I observed his figure, looking for any signs of nervousness or agitation. There it was, his hands. They were clenched together, shaking ever so slightly and he was staring at them.
"Bullshit." I said, taking another step towards him. As I got closer I noticed his jaw clenching and unclenching, in an attempt to keep himself from talking. So I pushed a little more. "I bet you know a lot more than you make out."
I took another step forwards, so close I could have reached through the bars and touched him. But I didn't. I just stood behind him watching—waiting for him to turn around and give me something to work on.
"I bet you know exactly what hap—"
"How about we make a deal." He said, cutting me off as he quickly turned to face me. I raised an eyebrow, hiding the smile of triumph that was itching to show itself.
"What kind of... deal?" I said, licking my lips nervously. I slowly reached into the back pocket of my jeans, clicking down the record button on my recorder. I inwardly thanked myself for remembering to bring it.
"I'll tell you what you want to know and you'll give me the protection around here that I need." He said quickly, not meeting my eyes.
"Protection?" I asked, confused. "What kind of protection could I possibly give you?"
"Wipe my name of these murders. And keep those Welsh boys away from me." He snarled, clearly agitated. I took a wary step backwards, suddenly afraid of what this man might have been capable of.
"And how do you know I can do that?" I fiddled with the watch on my wrist, nervously contemplating whether this was a good idea. In waiting for his answer I thought of all the things that could possibly go wrong with this deal... and everything that could possibly go right.
The cons;
One- Id be breaking my moral compass of never doing a deal with a criminal.
Two- Id be going against everything my father ever taught me.
Three- I might get caught.
Four- He might tell me lies to get what he wants.
And Five- It all might prove useless in helping Uncle George.
The pros;
One- Id be getting the information I so desperately needed.
Two- The information might lead me to whoever was responsible for the disappearances.
Three- The information might have been the only thing that could help George.
Even though the consequences out listed the benefits, I was compelled to take the opportunity that had presented itself in front of me. I knew if I didn't take the chance I might permanently hate myself for the rest of my life.
"Please, we both know you have a lot more power around here than you make out." He said, finally. I thought for a moment and realised that he was probably right. I knew being the daughter of the Correction officer had its perks.
"Seems to me like you'd only want your name cleared if you were involved. Have you got something to hide?" I said, crossing my arms. He looked at me from beneath his thick brows and rolled his eyes.
"Darling, in case you haven't noticed, you're working in a prison. Everyone's got something to hide." I frowned, taken back by his answer.
The thing that worried me the most was that he was right... and it didn't seem to matter to me. Something within me was down on its knees, pleading that I should make this deal, no matter what.
"But why this?" I had to ask. "If you had nothing to do with it then you shouldn't be worried."
He sighed loudly, throwing his hands up.
"Do you have any idea how this prison actually works, Emily?" He asked, raking his hands through his hair. "It doesn't matter if you're not involved in the crime that is happening. All that matters is that you have a dark past and they will twist it to make it seem like you're the one that was responsible for everything! If they don't like you, which they don't, they will try to pin everything on you! Don't you get that?" I flinched backwards and his face softened at my discomfort.
"So, you're not involved in this?" I asked quietly, staring down at my feet. Something about him made me loose the confidence I had built up. I wanted nothing more than his forgiveness.
"No, Emily..." He said softly, taking a step closer to the bars. "But, you've got to understand, people around here don't like me. In fact, they hate me. And I know that as soon I'm a suspect I'll be moved up on the list." As soon as he said that I understood. The death row is a long list, and if you're lucky enough you'll die before you get called. But, on rare circumstances, people get moved up, and suddenly their time left on this earth goes from a few years to a few days. Any sane person would do anything to get themselves some more time.
"Okay then." I said, reaching out my hand. "We have a deal."
His face lit up into a fantastic smile and he reached out to grip my hand. Our hands met halfway through the bars, fitting together perfecting. The contact sent a wave of heat up my arm, warming every cell in my body.
You can't trust them...
My father voice rippled through my body, causing me to rip my arm away from Vans. My hand felt empty and incomplete and the heat left as quickly as it had arrived. I turned away from the criminal in front of me, disgusted that I had just made a deal with one.
What is wrong with you? He's a killer, Emily. Why did you do that? Why?
I shook my head and began walking away from the burden I had just created. What was wrong with me? I had just deliberately disobeyed everything I had been taught and everything that I built myself on.
"Emily! Where are you going?" Vans called after me, but he couldn't stop me. my self hatred was greater than anything I would ever feel for him in that moment.
"Away from you!" I snared back at him, walking faster than before. I passed the cells quickly, trying to run from my subconscious. What was wrong with me?
"Don't you want to know who took Even? Don't you want to know who set up your fathers little accident?" He shouted after me. I stopped dead in my tracks and swiveled around in fury. I knew he was lying, he couldn't possibly know what happened to my father. He couldn't, could he? I stormed back towards him, arms swinging from side to side.
"What did you just say?" I said, my voice rising in volume. He didn't say anything, but a smirk grew on his face as he shrugged. Everything inside of me was screaming and I was a second away from ripping someone's head off.
"Listen you little shit," I yelled, furious at myself and at him. "If we are going to do this deal we are going to do it my way. That means; you will answer everything I ask you, you will do everything I ask you to do, and most importantly, you will only speak when I ask you to." My rage turned my face red but I couldn't stop the urges rushing through me that told me to put him in his place. His face was blank and emotionless, which fuelled the flames of fury inside of me. But, I think we both knew I was more mad at myself than I was at him. "You don't know shit."
I swilled back around on my heel and stormed down the hall, determined to get as far away from him as possible.
"You'll be back." He called after me, but I barely hear him.
I knew better than to trust a criminal.
So why do you think he's right?
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(Again i apologise for the change in chapters, I hope this is of no inconvenience)
Thankyou for reading!
Love you all xx
Charli.