Thread: [ Mercutio17 & Tortoise] We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes;;

A body was sprawled out on the bed, still warm yet motionless and stiff. A young woman, perhaps in her early thirties, appeared to be at complete peace, a hint of a smile fixated on the delicate, doll like hands. She looked like an angel, giving a false sense of purity with her long sandy hair spread across the pillow, a white dress matching her skin, and the chipped polish on the frail hand that clung to an empty bottle of prescription medicine. The body was flawless, had it not been for the finger marks on forearms, thighs, neck and, underneath the fabric, on the full breasts and stomach. Yellow, black and purple bruises decorated the smooth butter like skin, alternating with occasional burns ?? mainly cigarette. ??Mommy, Mommy, he??s coming,? a shrill, infantile voice filled the room. A small girl, aged perhaps ten, ran over toward the room. ??He??s not happy, Mommy, he says the kitchen isn??t clean,? she exclaimed, terror clear in the voice. She entered the room and ran up to the bed, nudging the woman. Suddenly, the terror filling her expression increased, along with an inexorable pain. ??Mommy?? The child whispered in a hushed voice, nudging her mother. It didn??t take long for the tears to begin rolling down her cheeks in two streaks, the nudges growing harder. ??No, Mommy, please, wake up,? she continued, fearfully glancing at the shadow that made its way down the hallway, stumbling with every step. ??You dirty slut,? hissed a voice, approaching the crowded although clean bedroom. The child rested next to her mother in a quest for protection, the tiny hands clenching around the chilly shoulders. ??Mommy,? the child wept, dragging out the word. ??What the hell are you doing?? He continued, entering the room. The rage in the pair of frosty blue eyes, the drunken expression? ??No!? Screamed the child? A pair of large blue eyes darted open, cold sweat forming on their owner??s forehead. A small, delicate hand with cleanly cut nails came to rest on the forehead, an ample bosom shifting and falling in irregular movements. Those blue eyes were as light as the sky on the sunny day, tainted with streaks of yellow next to the iris??s edge. Holding a perfect almond shape and surrounded with long, thick eyelashes that gave them a stormy aspect, they mesmerized and drew in. It wasn??t, however, their most striking propriety. No, it was the tremendous hollowness, emptiness and ice in them that at the same time hypnotized and terrified dozens. Some said those eyes looked straight into one??s soul, others refused to look into them. Panting softly, a woman sat up, brushing the long messy strands of light blonde hair away from the porcelain skin, tainted by nothing but a few light, hardly noticeable freckles. The woman??s face was that of an angel ?? soft, delicate, graces with full pink lips that looked as though they were made for kissing and a purity of a sinless creature. Just like her mother??s. The reality was as far from the illusion as the South Pole was from the North. On the thin, slender body hung an orange suit, loose everywhere other than the chest. She was a small woman, seemingly inoffensive due to the frail curves ?? not a hint of fat was apparent anywhere, her muscles slightly visible on her abs, her toned legs and her rear. It was the only hint to her love for exercise. The suit did not look like it belonged, or perhaps the woman didn??t. In the dim light of a solitary confinement cell, she was like a snake surrounded by tigers. Truth was, however, that the snake was far more dangerous in its ways than the simple minded tigers, remarkable in nothing but their brute strength. The solitary confinement was not intended to be solitary, either. The empty gaze trailed to the empty bunk on the other side, glee briefly filling them up. The man sent to her cell was a pedophile, having raped and killed several children, simply to avoid having them talk to their parents. A local priest, sick and twisted to the core. To say that his fate mattered to the authorities would be a lie, just as saying that they thought for a second that he would last longer than a day was. Surely enough, the unspoken expectations were met and the male was discovered in the showers, his blood having long swam down the drain, his testicles stuffed into his mouth, cut off with a plastic knife that lay next to him. The culprit was never found, although the investigation was far from extensive. The prison was in many ways similar to Guantanamo Bay. There was no real attention paid to it by the government, all those who had no rights sent to the establishment which was just about as safe as the Fort Knox. Quinn Muriel was the establishment??s most notorious possession. The woman, despite her small size, had the wits of a fox, the cruelty of a shark and inspired fear in the large men. From her first days in the establishment she gained notoriety, all men avoiding her at all costs despite their desire to, as they said, ??fuck her brains out??. Things were ruled out during her first day when a man almost lost his most prized possession in an attempt to carry out his desires. From there on, she was treated with a quiet respect and left to her own means. She wasn??t much of a people??s person ?? most men were far too stupid to understand her, not to mention their minds were so easy to screw with that she didn??t bother. Instead, she turned to books and planning. There was no way she would carry out her life sentence, with no possibility of parole. She lucked out, being caught in a state without the capital punishment. It was quite a wonder, as well. At the age of twenty six, she took close to fifty lives according to the press, although in truth most bodies hadn??t been found yet. They would only be found after her death, or at least parts of them would. For most of her life, the young girl lived through her father??s abuse. At first, it had been beatings ?? whenever under influence, he would hurt her, never apologize for it later. Then, years later, as she began developing, he decided that she was quite to his taste, or perhaps was it because she looked like her mother, only with his eyes. Living through torture, she one day lucked out when her father was killed in an accident. The only thing she regretted was not being able to have taken his life. Following his death, she snapped. He killed her mother ?? although indirectly, violated his daughter, yet not a single policeman dropped by. People like him had to be punished, and authorities were not to be relied upon, she came to discover at a young age. If you want something done, do it yourself, was her motto. Stretching out, she stood up, walking around the cell. Following a death in which she was suspected, she was kept locked up without the possibility to leave even for the hour outside. The only thing she was still getting ?? thankfully, was a shower every day. From the way they were treated, it was a wonder that authorities bothered to buy razors, although the electronic thing couldn??t hurt anyone. She was thankful for that much. Shifting about, she returned to her seat, studying the walls with the smirk of a Cheshire cat. Every inch of her wall was covered in newspapers?? articles, highlighted and read over and over again. They were from the time where she was unknown to the world, when the police believed that there were many serial killers operating throughout the country. Her name, quite obviously, didn??t figure on any of them. Despite that fact, she felt quite flattered that she managed to mislead so many for so long. Nine years passed since blood first touched her hands, only six months ago they caught her. She liked to believe that it was because she allowed them to. Leaning down, she picked up a book, completely absorbed by the words on the pages. The book had nothing to do with crime, making her seem like a person eager to learn human psychology. She listened to the silence, hearing steps cut through the silence. She was informed that someone new was going to come in, and she could hardly wait to inspect him, see if he deserved to live. The fact that they chose to place him in her cell certainly suggested that he didn??t. listu