His Obsession

34: no remorse

Author's Note:

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than 1k words, and isn't as good as I would like it to be. I may go back to edit it later and make it better but it's currently 4am, I'm exhausted, and I wanted to just get it out asap since I said I would try to update every other day at the least, so I'm leaving it like this until further notice. It's also basically just a filler chapter. The next chapter is going to be super sad so be ready for that. <3

Ryder's POV:

My eyes peel open, head pounding, as the bright lights blind me. Momentarily confused, before I remember what happened. I killed the guard. Satisfaction fills me knowing I took his life, a life that deserved to be snuffed out. He should have never brought Layla up, he was basically asking to die the second those words left his lips.

I can still picture the way it felt as my fists pummeled his skull into oblivion, the warm, red liquid splattering across my face. I hope he felt indescribable fear before he died. I hope he realized how much he fucked up. That his mistake cost him his worthless life.

Sitting up, I see I am in a different cell, a much smaller one. Rolling my eyes, I look around the empty room. I don't get the point in moving me, but oh well. Glancing down, I see blood still caked on my hands, and I know it still coats my face as well.

Walking towards the sink, I click the small metal button that releases water for ten seconds before having to press it again. It's obnoxious, but I know the point is making criminals suffer in any way they can. Scrubbing my hands with the lukewarm water, I watch the diluted pink blood wash down the drain. Once my hands are clean, I do the same to my face, relieved once his dirty blood is off of me.

With nothing else to do, I stand in front the door, glancing out the small rectangle window, I watch the empty pod. It's small, with only ten cells, and a guards desk at the front. The normal pods are much larger, housing up to thirty five cells, tables in the day room, a television, and books. Not that they have ever allowed me in general population to "enjoy" the small things they allow us.

As I watch out the door, a female officer steps inside, doing her rounds, making sure everyone is alive. I look her up and down, taking in her features. Medium height, average build, brown hair tied up in a tight bun. The typical type of woman I would hunt and kill. I wonder what types of screams she would make while her insides were ripped out. Would she be a fighter, or a weakling that accepted her fate?

Her heavy black boots slam up the stairs, quickly glancing in every cell as she nears mine.  Her foot steps get closer and closer, until she is right in front of me. Seeing her up close, she has a decent face, not ugly, nor necessarily attractive. Nothing compared to Layla.

She pauses in front my door, lingering, staring at me. I smirk at her, leaning closer to the window, looking her up and down. Her cheeks flush light pink, a barely noticeable gasp leaves her lips, before looking away, quickly walking off. My smirk grows larger as I realize she has some interest in me to stare like that, and this is a vantage point I can exploit.

There are many weak female officers that fall prey to the charms of male inmates, becoming puppets to use to our advantage, and I believe she is one of them. It won't be hard to charm her, wrap her around my finger, until she will come in handy with my escape.

Soon Layla and I will be together again.

¤¤¤

Layla's POV:

Waking up, I stretch my sore muscles, listening to them pop, and grimacing as they ache from lack of movement. I don't know how long I was out, but it must've been a decent amount of time to be this sore.

The memories of what happened last night resurface, reminding me I killed someone in cold blood. I feel zero remorse. If she would have just told me he was alive, she wouldn't be dead. That was her own fault. She should've been smarter than that, valued her life as the other nurse did.

It slightly shocks me that I went through with killing someone without Ryder being behind it, but I did what needed to be done. It scared that one nurse enough to utter the words that brought me hope.

He's alive.

The relief I feel at that is indescribable. I no longer will spend days crying, screaming, harming myself in fear that I lost him, plotting the ways in which I would end my own life. I no longer have to rely on my imagination of being with him again, because I know he will get us out of here. I know what he is capable of. I believe in him.

Glancing around the room, I notice they have taken all my meager belongings out. I no longer have pens, pencils, paper, a change of clothing, it's all gone, which is fine by me. I haven't even used most of those things anyways.

Standing, I begin pacing the room, seeing as I have nothing else to do. My feet carry me across the small space, counting my steps as I go. I've reached three thousand steps when I hear the clicking of doors beings unlocked, which I ignore until a piece of paper is slid under the door.

My eyebrows furrow in curiosity as I pick the small square up, unfolding it, I gasp when I read the words, running to the door, trying to see who gave me the note, yet nobody is there. Rereading the words over and over in absolute shock.

"He has a plan. Stay ready. Flush this."

End Of Chapter Thirty Four