Horrifying Truth

Prologue
You don’t understand me.
You are not expected to.
You are not capable of it.
I am beyond your experience.
-Serial Killer: Richard Ramirez

“Mr. Rescroft, you have a visitor. Better awaken before you lose your precious little chance.”
A tall, stocky man slowly opened a pair of glittering black eyes. They slid over to the man who spoke, looking bored and with a spark of amusement. A small smile played on the stocky man’s lips. The smile was enough to raise the hair on a person’s arm and give them goosebumps. The man slowly got to his feet, taking all the time he wanted. His overgrown, dark brown hair made their way into his snake black eyes yet the man did not show a gesture that the hair annoyed him. The man was quite tall and dark tanned skin covered the bulging muscles on his arms. There was an aura about him that gave people the idea that he should be avoided and taken with serious caution. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, like most prisoners wore. The man walked right up to the steel bars separating him from the guard and himself. Slight, golden sunlight peeked through a barred up window at the end of the man’s stone cell. A small and sad looking bed sat in the corner to the left, a sink and toilet to the right of the cell. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stared at the guard, his head cocked slightly to the side and his spine-chilling grin and glittering, snake black eyes pointed at him.
“A visitor? How charming. Who do I owe the pleasure to make the acquaintance of?” The man said to the guard.
The guard swallowed nervously. How he hated to be near this man. He gave him the chills. Everything about the man in the orange prison jumpsuit screamed deadly and creepy. Of course, the guard sees men like him every day. Evil felons who have made horribly terrible and sick crimes and yet, this man conquered all of them. His past crime, or should he say crimes, were beyond horrifying. Yet here he was, grinning thinly and clasping his hands behind his back without a care in the world. He was glad Mr. Rescroft was contained behind the hard, steel bars. For if he wasn’t…the guard gulped at the thought, not wanting to dwell on the matter.
The woman who had come to visit Mr. Rescroft must be out of her mind, the guard suspected. He even warned her of Mr. Rescroft’s frightening demeanor, yet it seemed that it had influenced her even more to come. She was waiting down the hall for a gesture from the uncomfortable guard to come forth to speak with Mr. Rescroft, who was looking at the guard with thin patience as he took his time to reply.
“Miss. Sandra Rainer, Mr. Rescroft. She has come for an interview.” The guard finally replied.
“An interview? About what, may I ask?” Mr. Rescroft asked, his thick brown eyebrows furrowing together and his black eyes glittering curiously.
“To write my book, Mr. Orion Rescroft.” A strong, feminine voice rang, not waiting for the guard’s gesture.
The loud clicking of heels echoed off the stone walls as the author walked proudly down the hall, her chin held high and unafraid. The guard saw this almost as a funny sight, taking in that the young woman was quite short. She had short, mousy brown hair that only swept to the tips of her shoulders and a heavy set of stone gray eyes that were hardened in determination and a headstrong fierceness of confidence. Her skin was a creamy white with freckles splaying across the bridge of her small, pointed nose and across the knuckles of her elegantly long fingers. Her nails were small white crescents, finely manicured. She wore a solid blue dress that came down to her knees with black, heeled shoes and a thin, black belt buckled around her wide and attractive curved hips. A small black, circular pendent hung from her neck and rested near the base of her throat. The woman had no earrings but she had small round glasses that would never have been found on a librarian. A large notepad was held in her right arm and a #2 pencil was tucked behind her right ear. The guard also noted there was another #2 pencil shove between the metal rungs of her notebook, meaning she obviously was bent on taking a large majority of notes…or just brought a spare in case one broke. The guard felt himself beginning to express fear for the short, mousy lady who approached. Orion Rescroft, however, looked at her with interest. The guard gulped once more. Interest was not the look one would want from a man like Mr. Orion Rescroft.
“To write your book? Now, my dear lady, why would you want to interview a man like me for a book?” Rescroft said to Miss. Rainer, raising his eyebrows.
“That will be explained in a few seconds, Mr. Rescroft, once this young guard finds the will to leave.” She said, looking up at the 6’4 foot man standing in front of her behind bars.
“Oh yes, of course. I will fetch you in a few hours, Miss. Rainer.” The guard said, clearing his throat. He turned and hurriedly walked away from the cell. His boots echoed off the great stone walls. He could feel the stone gray eyes of the mousy author boring into his back. The feeling of her stare made him walk faster. The sooner he got out of this spot of the prison, the better. Finally, the heavy steel door came within reach. The guard stretched out his hand and curved his fingers around the handle and excused himself from the room, the steel door banging shut noisily behind him.
***
“Now that the guard is gone, shall you answer my question, Miss. Rainer?” Orion asked, quite curious to know why this woman needed him for her book.
“You see, Mr. Rescroft, my book is going to be told from the point of view from the bad guy. A serial killer to be specific. I get that you are one of the worst still in custody and I wish to hear of your story told from your point of view.” She said boldly, cutting straight to the point.
Orion liked how she cut to the reason she was here. His black eyes looked at her in respect. It was not a simple task to visit a serial killer, even if he was behind bars. His eyes trailed to the base of her thin, little neck. Her pulse thumped from a major vein. The smallest smile twisted cruelly on his dark brown-gray lips. Orion vividly remembered ever person he ever killed and how he had killed them. He would see that very pulse quicken in fear first, then ever so slowly die out along with their last breath and the light in their pitiful, beady eyes. He could see himself reaching his arm between the bars, his large, calloused and tan hand gripping the author’s skinny neck. Oh how this one would put up a fight. The more his victims squirmed and fought; usually the more fun it was to kill them. See the last shred of their worthless hope drain from their eyes when they say that they were going to die. Then, after their hope shimmied away, their life would ebb away by the second. Orion remembered the hard and desperate pounding of their pulse that had slowly began to falter and die out. Oh how he loved the sensation. That is what he thought as he saw her strong pulse. His story she wanted to hear, eh? She would most likely be disgusted at the glee in his voice as he told her the tale of his life before stone and steel bars. It was the time when he was a lion, looking out for his next victim. His next prey.
“It will be quite the interesting book that will be published. One, I imagine, not very many people will enjoy but fascinate them in a horrific sort of way. Is that what you are aiming towards, Miss. Rainer? I must warn you that if you are a squeamish sort of person, you may want to interview someone else. My stories and feelings will probably terrify you. Horrify you. These stories will make you want to run as far away from me as you can. My feelings about my actions probably even more.” Rescroft said, his black snake eyes glittering.
“I assure you, Mr. Rescroft, that I know very well that your stories will be horrific. I am not a lady quick to sicken in the way you speak of. I may be sickened at you yourself and your stories but I am not one to throw up over them. I am a very hard woman. I never would have come if I knew I could not handle the stories.” She said with a stony edge to her voice.
“I am assured, Miss. Rainer, but do not say I did not warn you.” Orion said to her, that chilling, tight lipped smile twisting across his features. He moved to the side of his small, square cell and leaned his back against it, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the small, mousy author. She took out her notepad, pulling the #2 pencil from its metal rungs. She flipped open the cover of her notepad, pencil poised and ready to write in her elegant and long fingers. She glanced up with her stone gray eyes at Orion Rescroft.
“Let us start, Miss. Rainer, with my childhood…”

Hahahaha! Thanks yang! I'm working on the 1st chapter right now!

Hahahahaha!!! XD