CARNIVORE [MxM+]

Epilogue

Eight months later

Mathis was nervous. He had never done anything like this in his life and it showed. But he was no longer the sheltered little boy he was raised to be. This was his first job ever and he wasn't going to screw it up. His mother's voice rang in his head, telling him that it was okay to get nervous- because the men he was tasked with watching at his new job were dangerous, so it was important to always be on edge. Murders, realists, gang bangers, white supremacists- you name it. The prison had it all and he interacted with them every day. But today was different. Today was the first day he'd have to interact with one of these psychos personally. And this guy he was going to meet was exactly that.

The officer behind the glass window gave him a thumbs-up before buzzing him through the main gate. This is where that psycho was calling his home: cell block D. His neck grew sweaty and his throat became dry. He did his best to remain calm and ignore the prying eyes, repeating his mother's reassurances in his mind. He didn't meet the inmate's eyes as he passed them. His mind and feet were too busy being focused on dragging him to cell A-1-33.

He thought about the man that lay there, in that cell. He was a monster, not only because of his hulking size, but because of the things he had done to end up in a place like this. He was convicted of numerous crimes, but the ones that stood out the most were murder of the first degree and eight felonious counts of child abuse. And he wore them with a smile. This man deserved to never see the Sun again and that was clear. That's why Mathis despised the fact that he'd be escorting him to see the living proof of his evilness. His stepson.

Mathis didn't know his name, but Mathis' heart ached for the boy. He knew it was wrong, but he thanked God that he was blessed with such a kind mother.

He said nothing to the prisoner as he signaled for him to follow. The prisoner obeyed, keeping close to Mathis so as to not set off any alarm bells. Due to Mathis' impatience, it didn't take long for the two to leave the cell block.

Mathis turned left down a hall toward the west wing. That was where the prison held their interview rooms. The hall was seamless with nothing but rows and rows of doorways on either side and a single label above each numbering them. And at the end of the hall stood a man in an expensive-looking suit with a stoic look on his face.

As they got closer, Mathis noticed that somehow the man was even taller than the prisoner beside him. Mathis also took time to observe the man's body language. Even though he looked proper on the outside, with his back straight and his hands folded out in front of him, Mathis could tell the man was livid. His jaw was clenched harshly, and the knuckles on his hands were white from how hard he was using them. He wondered why the man was so angry.

The man moved as they grew near, revealing an open doorway behind him. From here, Mathis could see the room's dark and black walls, paired with the cold steel of the table in the middle of the room. But he knew the room held more, that as soon as he entered that room, he'd be making a boy relive his worst nightmares by bringing his abuser straight to his doorstep.

Mathis entered the room with the prisoner in tow.

And there he was, standing on the other side of the table with his hands supporting his weight, was the boy. His eyes were downcast, bleeding into what Mathis could guess was the prisoner behind him. He looked closely, and he could've sworn he saw a flicker of a flame burn in the boy's retinas. His raven-black hair plastered his face in a delicate mess, making him look more handsome than he already was. Mathis joked to himself, wishing he looked like that when he was nineteen.

Upon the prisoner's arrival, the boy sat in his chair, gesturing for the prisoner to do the same. He did, and suddenly the room became deathly silent as the two stared each other down, the boy's dull green clashing painfully with the prisoner's onyx brown.

Then, after what felt like hours, the boy spoke.

His voice was so filled with hatred that it genuinely made Mathis fear for his safety.

"Jason. Nice to see you. Shame you aren't dead yet."

Jason grunted, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. He paused, before looking the boy in the eyes as a sadistic sneer carved its way onto his face.

"You out of all people should know you can't kill the devil, Boy."

Love you.