"One side of me says, "I'd like to talk to her and date her." The other side of me says , "I wonder what her head would look like on a stick?""
- Edmund Kemper (The Co-ed Killer)
TWENTY FIVE
IT WAS UNDENIABLY obvious that neither of us would be able to sleep that night. We lay beside each other on my bed, eyes adjusted to the darkened room and lips parting in short whispers to each other. My hands had ceased it's trembling and were tucked underneath my head. We were so close that I could feel her breath on my face and see every flaw on her face. It reminded me of mine. My ingrained flaws.
"I want to regret you telling me," I muttered. "But I'm grateful. It kinda makes me feel better. In a twisted way."
"I know. I can see it in your eyes."
My smile was fleeting. It came and disappeared like I had hallucinated it. I scrubbed my hand against my face instinctively. "So...back to Stockholm Central tomorrow. How do you feel?"
"Honestly? I'm relieved. Yeah, I had the best dinner of my life, and I'm sleeping in the most beautiful room,"
"But?" I added the promising word.
"It's too much for me. I'm used to the simple life now and I miss it." She sighed, rolling away to face the ceiling. "Besides, the entire place freaks me out. Bad vibes and everything."
"Yeah," I completely understood what she was saying. The prison had pain and sadness streaked across it's walls like paint and if you watched closely, it would find a way to stain your fingertips and clothes. Making you pained and saddened. A terrible place it was.
It was no wonder I felt paranoid all the time.
Suddenly, Diana leaned over to the bed side table and turned on a lamp. The room illuminated, revealing the elegant design of the studio room. I was vaguely aware of the faint scent of Dianas perfume mixing with the fleeting smell of Chinese take-out. Frank had ordered us food since we couldn't leave and risk letting anyone know Diana was here.
He was doing so much to prove his innocence. I still felt wary about him but all my feelings would be crystal clear soon. Diana reached into one of the drawers and I could hear the ruffle of papers.
She turned to me.
"I got this out while you were in the shower." Crying, I had been crying in the shower. "Almost forgot the reason why I came here in the first fucking place."
I looked down at her outstretched hand and held my breath. It was an envelope with an address and post code printed on the front of it. This was the moment of truth. I would either realise I had been paranoid and Frank was innocent, or I would realise that Dante played a bigger picture in my life than I had believed.
"Take it. You've been losing your fucking mind over the thing. Take it." Diana insisted, shaking the letter a little. I wasn't shocked she hadn't handed me an empty envelope. She probably didn't even want to touch the letters anymore.
She had informed me that Dante had ghosted her a few days ago. Not only did that heighten my suspicion, it made her more eager to know who the bastard was. I was wary when I took it from her and held it with both hands.
"Thank you."
Diana sighed. Heavily. I always knew when she was sad and this intimate moment was one of them. She was kneeling on the bed next to me and as I looked up at her from underneath the covers, I could see the film of tears on her hazel eyes.
I sat up, reaching over to wipe a stray tear. "D, fuck, don't cry. This person is so not worth it."
Diana cried too easily. It was worse because I knew she had actually liked Dante. At least the idea of him. Because she was loosely attached as a child, she would grasp at any affection shown towards her and fall so easily and so hard. All it took was Dante to say a few sweet words to grab her attention.
Three months later, she was telling me she thought she loved him.
She smacked my hand away and wiped at her own face. She sniffed, snuggling back into the double bed. "Don't be so moist. I'm just upset. Do you know how much it was to post those fucking letters? How much paper I wasted? The fucking trees."
Despite how I felt, I couldn't help my small hollow smile. Diana was like a magician when it came down to my emotions. "Oh yeah, that was totally about the trees."
"Just promise me one thing."
"For you, anything."
She wiped at her eyes again, softly this time and then reached for my hand. She squeezed. "When you find the bastard, let them know that they owe me 50 fucking pounds."
"Don't worry, I'll find him."
"Or her. Find her."
Diana had said that casually but it had hit me cold in the spine. I had never considered it being a woman. That struck me as bizarre. Possible, but a hundred times more horrifying.
"I will. I promise."
Dianas eyes resembled butterflies as it fluttered closed, letting sleep blissfully win the battle against her and anxiety. "Ari. Don't do it for me. Do it for you."
"What if-"
She cut me off with a rough pillow shove. "Nothing is going to happen. No one knows what you did. Hell, you didn't even know."
Oh, but someone knew and I had used my subconscious to tell it to him.
______
I HAD NEVER been to the SSCD Tech Center without official escorts before. They would usually meet me at the main hall of my accomodation and we would take the short walk needed to Front Hall. They would then point me to the halls where the interview rooms were lined up. So when I got to the front doors and the beefy security detail had asked me for my ID, I had stuttered.
"I don't have one." I muttered. That sounded fucking stupid but it was true. Apparently, I didn't need an ID, I usually just scanned my fingerprint at the door and the officials would let me find my way from there.
My eyes scanned the building before us. It was just as daunting as it was when I had first arrived. My bags had been taken from me and I had stood there with nothing but my brain telling me that I was stupid for coming here. The building was a giant and it looked down at me like it's next meal. A miserable place with miserable people on the inside.
"You don't have one?" Beefy asked, eyebrows slashed across his face in a comical menace. He looked at me like I was the gum under his black boots. He was so huge that I was pretty sure he would kill me if he so much as shoved me. His shirt strained at his arm muscles.
I shuddered.
"I forgot my bag." I blurted. "It has my ID in it."
I knew he didn't believe me. I was an expert liar but I knew this wouldn't cut it. This was a high risk prison and even as this was just the technical centre, it was important that all parts be secured at all times.
His voice was like thunder when it boomed. "You have to be kidding me." He groaned, and then reached for a tablet that was somewhere in his work station. "What department do you work at?"
I thought about it for a moment too long. "The Prisoner Project?"
His brows furrowed even more and he took a step closer. I knew he enjoyed intimidating me because I was sure I looked nothing like a threat. I had on a sweater and leggings. Nothing else was on me that he could see. "Are you asking me, Miss?"
"N-No. I work for the Project."
Strange as it was, this man was the first one who had made me stutter. Perhaps it was because I knew I was doing something I wasn't supposed to do. I wasn't aware of how much trouble I was getting into but Hell, at this point I could care less.
Beefy glanced down at the tablet and tapped a few things into it. It lit up. "Name?"
"Aria Eden Black."
He looked up at me and down again at the tablet. Probably trying to match the photo that had popped up to my face. I wouldn't blame him if he doubted me, I had looked in the mirror too often to notice how much this job had aged me. "Place your finger on the port, Miss Black."
I held back the Aria, please, I wanted to blurt and did as he said. The translucent square by the automatic doors lit up in blue, signalling me that I needed to scan my finger. I did, and it turned green.
My heart had been lodged in my throat all the while so when I saw the green light, I sagged in relief. "See, I didn't lie."
Beefy nodded, but his eyes were still mischievous. "You're authorised, yes, but that doesn't explain why you're here. You're not pencilled in today. What are you doing here?"
Oh. The security was informed whenever I was scheduled to come and leave? I gulped. Then the though had come to me in a heartbeat. "Like I said, I forgot my bag!"
Beefy scowled. If looks could kill... "If that is all, you can get it it the next time you're scheduled in."
Oh, now he was just being coy. I crossed my arms against my chest and matched his macho expression. I was already irritable since Diana had woken me up to leave at 5 am, as arranged by Frank, so as not to alert too may people.
"I have important stuff I need in there, Sir."
"What kind of stuff?" He rose a brow. He definitely had time today.
But I had time too.
"Lady stuff." I emphasised. "My tampons are in there—"
I noticed him roll his eyes and kicked it up a notch. I needed to be brutal. "And no, I don't want to get a new packet from the vending machines at the accomodation. They don't work for me. The ones in my bag are a special kind. See, the thing is, I bleed quite heavily. It is a literal murder scene when I go to the bathroom. The blood just goes everywhere when I try to get the tampon out of me. I have to put-"
Immediately, I heard two beeps and the automatic doors had slid open. Bingo.
I looked up and Beefy was glancing down at me. His grey eyes had fury and disgust welled inside of them. He gritted. "You have fifteen fucking minutes and then I'm coming to find you. Bloody or not."
I felt a trimphant smile grace my features. "Hopefully the latter."
When I walked in, I immediately became serious. I wasn't here to joke around. I was here to find something crucial to I and my sisters wellbeing. I beelined for the hallway where I normally conducted my interviews.
Glancing into the glass panel on the metal door, I first surveyed the hallway and noticed it was empty. I already knew that no hustle and bustle ever happened in this wing but I just didn't want to bump into someone like Hank or Frank who would question my being there. I took a deep breath, eyed the CCTV cameras above the door and feigned a brave face.
Perhaps if I looked like I was supposed to be here, the people who watched the cameras wouldn't think me suspicious.
I pushed into the hall and slowly made my way to the room on the left. What I was doing was a shot in the dark. A fucking long shot. But the last time I had been here, the person I was looking for had been working here.
I stopped at the door I wanted and muttered a little prayer before knocking on it twice. "James?"
No answer.
Fuck. I knocked a bit louder and whispered into the side of the door. "James? It's me. Aria? You interviewed me a few days ago?"
There was no reply but I could hear movement on the other side. Hope flared in my chest. "James." I hissed. "Look, I'm sorry for being a bitch the last time but I need your help now. Please, ope-"
The door swung open and I bumped into someone who definitely wasn't James. His face was marred with a scowl. His hooded green eyes were bright, juxtaposing the darkness of his features. Jesus, was everyone here just naturally pissed off? He eyed me head to toe and probably noticed how out of place I looked. He was dressed in a clean suit, like the men working here often sported.
"You have five seconds to explain what the fuck you're doing in these halls, Miss."
I was taken aback by his harshness. "Excuse me?"
"Listen. I'm busy and I really don't have time for this thing." He pointed and the the space between the both of us. He was at least two heads taller than me and his tone was so patronising that I cringed. "You're clearly lost and I'm going to point to you to the exit."
I was still stunned. I glanced at this name tag. Ethan-Intern. An intern who was clearly too big for his breaches. "Do I look lost?"
He leaned against the door jamb and rose a brow. His facial expression was an unenthusiastic 'really?' and it irritated me. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Are you a new secretary or something?"
I tried to look behind him to see if James was there. I was tired of people hiding things - and people - from me. I called into the room behind him. "James?"
The man stepped forward and slammed the door behind him. "I asked you a question. Don't play deaf."
Woah. I reminded myself that this child didn't even know who I was. I scowled, irritated now. "Alright, step back and away from me like right now." I poked at his chest till he stepped back. "God, are all the men here douchebags?"
His eyes widened.
"Now listen—I'm not a secretary, I'm looking for James. I'm part of the Prisoner Project and he's supposed to help me run through some documents. If I wasn't supposed to be here, I'm pretty sure Beefy at the front doors wouldn't have let me in." I lied, clean through my teeth. Lying wasn't something I was foreign to me. It came out easier than the truth. "So you need to take your attitude down a notch and help me out."
He was quiet for a good minute, eyes looking through me as though he could read my mind. His lips were pursed, and for a second his eyes hardened.
"Well?" I said. I had fifteen minutes before Beefy came to either drag me out by my collar or worse, alert Frank and Mirabel that I was here.
"Well, James isn't here." He deadpanned.
Just then, a voice came from beside me. "Yes, I am?"
I could have kissed him.
He looked better than he had before. I had been looking at him through judgmental and frustrated eyes. I had been rude. James wasn't bad looking, or unkempt, he had just been clumsy. Nervous. Like me.
I looked at the lopsided grin staining his face and instantly flushed on remembering how rude I had been last time we met. Hopefully, he had moved on from it. His suit jacket was missing and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was too casual.
I sighed. "Oh, thank God."
"What the hell, J?" Ethan hissed.
James was looking at me, eyes curious and wide. He clearly hadn't expected someone to be yelling his name in the halls. "It's fine, Ethan. I'll take it from here."
Ethan scrunched his brows. He looked back at me and hissed to James. "Whatever. You better know what the hell you're doing, J."
Then slammed the door shut.
Before I could turn to James to thank him, he had turned around and started walking into one of the other rooms. I hurried after him and walked into the room behind him, closing it softly.
Once we were inside the white room, James spun to face me. I took a step back. "Woah. Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm trying to figure out if you've gone completely mad." He said looking at me incredulously. Like I had grown another head on my shoulders. "Are you trying to get me fired? You can't be walking around saying my name when I'm pretty sure you're not scheduled in today. We're not supposed to even know each other's names."
I sagged against the wooden door. The room was a replica of the one I had been in. "I know! I'm so sorry but I'm desperate and I need your help."
He froze, his big eyes widened. "Oh my God, are you going to blackmail me? Is this because of what I told you last time? Shiiiit, my mom was right, I am a dunce."
"No, no! And I'm sorry about last time. I was rude and you didn't deserve it. I just need your help cause you're the only one who doesn't have it out for me."
He tilted his head to the side. "We literally have met once."
"Exactly." He had no attachment to me. He was the perfect person to ask.
He scoffed. His goofy smile had slipped and he looked cautious. "And they say chivalry is dead. The last time we met, you threatened me. Why would I help you?"
"Because you're not a bad person and you know a little bit about my predicament."
"Look I'm just an intern so I know I can't help you with anything. At least, I was an intern. I'm fucked now, the cameras out there are always watching you know." He gestured at the both of us. "So this was caught on tape."
I stalked into the room and sat on one of the sofas. "You don't seem too bothered about losing your job."
He grinned then, grabbing an a bottle of water from the fridge and tossing it into the air. Catching it. "I'm not really bothered. I was gonna quit a few days ago. Don't have the balls. Been looking for ways to get fired."
Ah, that explained his casual dressing. I crossed and uncrossed my legs. This small talk was taking too much time. "Then I guess we're helping each other out."
"I guess." He chuckled, seemingly more relaxed. He was more reassured in himself and it made me smile. "But only because you didn't rat me out last time."
"Okay." I lifted my shirt and reached into the side of my trousers. Before I could finish what I was doing, I heard James squeak.
"What are you doing?! That's not what I had in mind when you said you needed help!" He had spun around and shielded his eyes.
I rolled mine. I pulled out the letter I had tucked into the side of my trousers. I had thought the security would ask me about it and I didn't wasn't to arouse any suspicion so I had hid it. "Turn around, James."
"Look; you're attractive and all but I just met this girl on Tinder and we're getting good pretty serious. No offence but-"
"Turn around." I hissed.
Gingerly, he spun around and froze. "Oh." He glanced down at the letter in my hand and rose a brow. "What's that?"
"A letter. It's got an address on it and I need you to figure out where it was sent from."
He wrapped his slender fingers around the letter and opened it. His eyes scanned the postcode before looking at me. "Is that it?"
"It's more important to me than you think. I can't do it myself cause I'm certain my computer would leave footprints. I need this to be anonymous." I explained. "Also, you have about two minutes."
James was surprisingly eager now that he knew I wasn't here to seduce him. I might have lifted my shirt a little too high. I paced the small room while he worked at the desktop.
A few seconds later, he muttered. "The fuck?"
I rushed over to his side, leaning against him so I could see what he was seeing. I could understand nothing. It was all code. "What's this?"
James frowned. "It's encrypted."
"What does that mean?" I matched his expression.
He looked up at me, eyes now narrowed into slits. "If I decode this, Aria, I risk getting instant termination." His voice was strained as he explained. "The encryption mean that this address is located inside SSCD. All personal information is confidential."
My brain had paused on hearing the address was inside SSCD. I couldn't breathe. I had been right. The possibility had been there but I had wished it wrong. So I wasn't paranoid. I wasn't losing my mind. Someone was trying to get information about me.
"James." I started, seriously placating. "I need you to decode it. I'm begging. Who's address is it? I'll do anything."
James sighed and patted me on the back. "Aria, stop begging. I'm already on it. I wasn't joking when I said I wanted to get fired. I'm too much of a pussy to quit. This is my golden ticket. I'll leave with a bang."
He tapped a few things, taking more time than I had anticipated. I busied myself with finding a stray tote bag that I could use to convince Beefy that I wasn't a liar. I found a black bag in an empty cupboard and held onto it. I could put the letter in there to give it weight. Surely Beefy wouldn't search it.
When James had muttered a second. "The fuck?" I wanted to scream. This was ridiculous. I expected a quick clock in/clock out thing. Beefy was going to end up dragging me out of this took any more time. I was certain.
"What now?" I groaned, leaning up from his desk.
His voice was small. "You need to leave."
"Excuse me?" I shook my head, clearly not understanding. But James had already shut down the computer and he was heading straight for the door.
"You clearly think I'm some fucking joke." He muttered. "Well too bad I'm not funny." James pulled open the door and gestured towards it. He looked livid and I was beginning to fear why he felt that way.
"Do I look like I'm here to joke around?" I hissed, not budging. "What did you see on the computer?"
James paused. "You serious?"
I have him a duh.
He gauged my stony expression and when he realised I was serious, his mouth fell agape. "I honestly thought you were in some shit before but now, now I know you're fucked. Someone is messing with you."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
James handed me the letter and stepped back, hands lifted in the air in faux surrender. "I don't want this kind of shit to deal with. If someone here is trying to get you fucked, I don't want to meddle in that-"
"What is it, James!"
"The address, Aria." He said quietly. "It's yours. The letters were sent from your apartment."
____
Not-so-fun-fact about Edmund Kemper: Kemper was a giant, towering a good 7ft. He was ofte locked in the basement as a child by his mother who was afraid that he might rape his sister. He is still alive and imprisoned at California Medical Facility.
an: I might be terrible at updating but I'm trying my best, don't give up on me please! Thanks for reading ❤️