A villain for life.

One.

 Jackson's Federal Prison was famed for two things.

The first was its triple fortified double solidified steel building that to-date has never graced the head-lines for an escape since its inauguration.

The second was its claim to house the biggest villain the country had ever seen. 

Olyver Alvarez. 

In his orange jump-suit rolled down all the way past the white shirt to his hips, smoking on a joint, titanium cuffs around his feet and tattooed wrists hindering any excessive movements. Olyver looked a picture of complete ease in his setting. 

Well except for the inmates and guards around, a mere twitch of a facial muscle or every flick of Olyver's wrist was enough for even the most hardened criminal to have an apoplectic seizure.

 The stack of frightened uniforms pushing each other closest to his direction brought out a tiny smile and he extinguished the butt of his ciggy between his thumb and fore-finger before throwing it their way.

No one really noticed the thin trail of lighter fluid it hit until it was too late. Of course no one noticed until....the deed was done, it was one of Olyver's trademarks.

Almost immediately fire alarms resounded and the sprinkler system came on. But if there was one flaw in Jackson's it was the fact that the sprinklers wouldn't reach that one particular corner by the guard's rec room. A flaw that didn't go unnoticed by Olyver.

In mere seconds the entire place was engulfed in fiery flames.

A prison guard danced by him desperately trying to put out the flames that attacked him from behind. His loud pleas and cries of suffering coupled with the smell of singed flesh was to say unbelievably horrific. 

But it was as if he didn't even exist.

Olyver strolled past the uniform leisurely after unlocking himself with the guards fallen keys, didn't even glance at him when he packed together a string of curse words and deities before falling down onto the ground dead.  

He had a doctor's evaluation to get to. 

xx

Olyver levelled his cool as a cabana stare on the young fresh out of med school doctor who had her back to him arranging her bag hurriedly.

"Hello doc." 

There was the expected blanched look of surprise on her features as the doc turned around to face Olyver. 

"Shall we get to it then." Olyver folded himself over the comfy chair crossing his now unchained feet over the Docs table. 

 "Isn't t-there's a fire going on?" She stuttered, innocent eyes wide in alarm. 

Olvyer sat motionless in his chair looking over the sensual swells of her pretty body. He took his own sweet time to answer before finally aligning his eyes with hers.

He shrugged, "Nope, Fire drill." 

xxx

"Okay and this?" She gestured to a black and white placard that resembled a vagina.

Olvyer leaned forward to get a whiff of her nice perfume. "A field of yellow daisies." 

Her face scrunched up rather cutely. "These are black and white Olyver." 

"How about this one?" She held up another that looked like a dick between two tits.

"A pink bunny eating a carrot."

She sighed and bent to write something probably along the lines like uncooperative and undoubtedly stoned out of his head in her folder. Of course in medical terms she'd throw along some fancy words like 'altered state of consciousness' or 'intoxicated with drugs and alcohol'. 

From inside the tiny office Olyver's ears trained on a noise that came from the direction of the guard's room.

When the doctor looked up again, he wasn't in his seat anymore. 

"Hand over your keys and card, sweetheart." Olyver leaned in from behind pinning her into her chair.

She let out a sound of throaty surprise and shuddered when his breath tickled down her ear.

"No." She shoved at him and then flinched and cowered in her chair when she saw the dangerous crazed look in his eyes.

"It's in m-my pocket." She said resolvedly.

Olyver bent the chair holding the startled doc planting one hand firmly over her desk, he trailed down the front of her open jacket his knuckles brushing over the soft swells of her breasts when he decided she was about to faint in fright he finally reached into her pocket one finger looping around the set of warm keys. 

Again no one noticed the suddenly too lean and 100 pounds less lanky warden whistling to himself through the throngs of fire-fighters and scorched prison guards to hop over a shocking-pink scooter and take off into Sin city. 

***

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest of Olyver's villain journey through Sin City.

Olyver's theme song which he lives and breathes while he makes his own rules is 'Theory of a Deadman-  Villain'.  

(Check it out guys) 

Please vote and don't be afraid to comment ;) Love y'all!!

- M.D xoxo