7-Sept-2018

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7-Sept-2018

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Not All Monsters are Ugly

My lawyer looked over her glasses at me, her drawn-on eyebrows rising above the red rims. Her gaze traveled from my unkempt hair, over my prison jumpsuit down to my hands and back up to my face. She closed the folder in front of her and cocked her head to the side. “You’re really going to stick with this story?”

“Yes.”

A flicker of irritation crossed her face. “You realize I could get you a reduced sentence if you would—”

“Confess,” I finished before she could. “Yes. The other seven lawyers told me the same thing.” This time I looked hard at her. The shackles that tied me to the table clinked as I folded my hands together. “Which is why I asked for you.”

“So I could just let you die?”

“That’s right.”

She snorted and pulled the glasses off her face, allowing them to dangle from a pink string that went around her neck. “And why exactly do you think I would do that?”

I frowned. “Because, you represented David Ball.”

“He’s a psychopath. He did the things they accused him of.” She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You are not a psychopath.”

“But I did what they are accusing me of.”

“So you’ve said, and yet you won’t confess.”

“You have my side of the story there.” My eyes strayed to the shut folder, a few papers sticking beyond the manila.

“This?” She pointed. “This is fiction.”

I’d been through this too many times. I leaned forward. “Does it matter? I stabbed three little kids more than two dozen times with a pair of fabric scissors.” I kept my eyes locked onto hers.  “And if no one else believes in the real monster, then that leaves me.”

The lawyer’s hand trembled as she pulled it away from the folder. She cleared her throat and brushed the hair out of her eyes again. Her voice waivered a little as she continued to look me in the eye. “The judge wants you to tell the story.”

“No.”

“Things will go easier.”

Red hot anger swelled inside of me, and I slammed my hands against the metal table. “I’m not sure how many times I can explain this to you idiots. If you’re going to kill me, kill me. If the law is too chicken to do it, then move me out of solitary and let the other inmates have a stab at it.”

The lawyer swallowed and watched me as I watched her. Her eyes narrowed. “You really believe you did the right thing.”

“I wouldn’t have stabbed three kids to death if it hadn’t been the right thing to do,” I said between clenched teeth.

“Not everyone sees it your way.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I hope no one sees it my way,” I said. “I hope no one else sees the things those children were.”

“And what were they?”

I shook my head. “Monsters.”

“What kind?”

I met her eyes again. “The kind that want humanity to fall so they can rise.”

The lawyer licked her lips. “And where do they come from?”

She seemed genuinely interested. “I don’t know,” I lied.

“What if there are more?”

“Then humanity will have to save themselves.”

The lawyer sat forward, put her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. “I’d like to offer you a deal.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that there would be no deal, but my tongue wouldn’t obey, and my jaw shut with a click of my teeth.

She took that as a good sign. “We can fake your death, keep you isolated and moderately comfortable in a non-prison facility. In return, we use you to find more of these monsters.”

This time I thrust my thoughts out my mouth, but the monster inside of me forced me to smile instead. A voice I barely recognized spilled out.

I tried to push it back, but my control over it was slipping.

They needed to kill me.

They needed to kill the monster. Instead, it spoke, “I’m listening.”

The lawyer smiled.

***

Once again this leaned a little more toward horror than crime, but there was a crime in it. I feel good about that!

(Not sure I should, mind you.)

Genre – Crime

Character – Hero

Setting – Earth(ish)

Random Object – Scissors

Theme – Death


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