Psychopath

The most dangerous prisoners

"Do you remember that day at the soccer field?"

James looked up from his book, surprised. The question had come out of no where. Brian was lying on his back on the top bunk of their metal bunk bed, staring up at the concrete ceiling.

"Of course. It was with those two boys who wanted to be in the same team."

"Remember how I said we would never be like that?"

"Yeah."

"I take it back. I think we already are like that. I think.... I think I see you as my friend. A real friend. When I think of all that we've gone through, I realize that I actually trust you."

"Me too. I didn't even think that was possible of monsters like us."

They were quiet after that. James thought if all the times they had saved each other. All they had endured together as more than just partners in crime, but as friends. And now they would spend the rest of their lives in this tomb of metal and concrete. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing. There would be no more killing, no more running, no more doing the horrible things they needed to do to survive. James's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shrieking metal. He jumped to his feet and looked behind him. A blue uniformed man stood in the doorway. He held a baton tightly in his left hand, and his right hand was resting on his holstered gun. James recognized him as the cop who had spit in his face during his arrest.

"Hello officer! You're a sight for sore eyes! How have you been! It's been a while! I haven't seen you in days! Where were you? Oh wait, let me guess. You were at officer Connors and officer Dean's funeral, right?"

James saw the mans jaw tighten, and a vein running from his temple to his ear began throbbing.

"You have company. Come with me." He said through clenched teeth struggling to keep his voice level.

He slapped a pair if handcuffs onto James's pale wrists and escorted him
Down the nearly empty halls if the prison.

...............................................................

Two people awaited James. For their safety, James had been put into a straight jacket, and was standing between two armed guards. Despite these precautions, his parents still looked terrified. His mother's looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and she had lost weight. Her cheeks were sunken and she had deep purple rings under her eyes. She opened her mouth a few time, trying to say something to James, but she would end up weeping before a single word could be said. His father was a different story. His eyes were empty, devoid of any hint of emotion. He had no tears.

"Why son? Why did you do it?"

"Because I could. Because I got money for it. A lot of money. And because I simply don't care about the people I killed."

"Son, you ended the lives if nine people including your best friend."

"My best friend?" James snorted.

"Marisa was a killer too. She killed Abigail. She deserved to die. And she wasn't my best friend. I couldn't care less about her. And I don't care about you two. I'd kill you right now if it made me a few bucks."

James looked at the guard to his right.

"Can we leave now? I'd like to go back to my cell."

...............................................................

The guard escorted James back into his cell. As soon as he entered, and the steel door shut behind him, Brian asked,

"So, who was it?"

"My parents." James said, his voice filled with boredom.

"You don't sound like you found them too interesting."

"I couldn't care less about them."

Brian could easily tell James was lying. He avoided Brian's gaze, and tears were flowing down his cheeks. Brian debated whether to ask James any more questions. He decided not to.

...............................................................

Although Henry Morgan penitentiary wasn't a maximum security prison, it still housed some of the most despicable, disgusting, and most importantly, dangerous human beings in North Carolina. 152 people called Henry Morgan penitentiary home. And all 152 people knew about the two psychos in cell 16. The two boys that attacked and nearly killed one if the most dangerous men in the entire prison. And he all feared them. So when the two notorious children entered the mess hall that day, everyone grew silent. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of the boys chewing, as they say down and began eating their food. One if them, a pale boy with jet black hair, finished his food and spoke up, loud enough for the entire mess hall to hear.

"What a shame! I've finished my food, yet I'm still hungry!"

He stood up and looked around the mess hall. His gaze lingered on one of the prisoners sitting one table away from him. He was a younger man, most likely in his early twenties. He was sitting alone at his table, a plate of untouched food in front of him. James walked up to the man and grabbed his tray. Instead of fighting back the man simply lowered his head and looked at the mess halls floor. None of the other prisoners tried to stop James as his walked back to his table, and began to eat the man's food. All of them, including the man who's food he stole, knew that this boy was not to be trifled with. The man knew if he tried to stop James, the boy might quite possibly kill him. It was better to go a day hungry than to die.