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We left our belongings at the entrance, since they couldn’t risk someone taking pictures of the inmates, for both our safety and theirs. It was probably the best choice, as I couldn’t risk Sierra calling and asking the most inappropriate questions known to mankind.
It took us a solid hour to settle on an outfit.
I wanted to look professional, but still comfortable. My nerves were acting out, my palms sweaty at the mere thought of being stuck in the same building as some of the most dangerous people in the state.
It didn’t help that I had realized last night that this same prison was the one where I’d sent out the letter. And I hadn’t gotten a response.
Sierra got a letter back, which meant the inmate I chose also received his. I either wasn’t his type, or he was thrown off by the pink envelope and the book. Either way, it was probably for the best. I didn’t know what I was thinking when I listened to Sierra and sent it out.
I regretted it almost immediately.
The guide announced the beginning of the tour, and it snapped me back into reality. With my head held high and pen ready to write, I listened carefully whilst taking in my surroundings.
The first floor was for the criminals that didn’t carry that big of a criminal offense. It was a class-C felony, and most of the people on the inside were almost done with their sentencing. Or if they just got admitted, they’d be out sooner than anyone else.
‘‘Now…’’ The detective grabbed our attention with that simple word. ‘‘I assume you remember the rules. As for the last part of the tour, we’ll be reaching the top floor. I understand it might be hard for some of you, as these prisoners are currently on death row. If anyone wants to back out, this is the time.’’
His eyes darted throughout the group, giving us some time to think it through. Four people took his words of advice, apologized and left.
‘‘Depending on which path you choose, you’ll face people worse than the ones you’ll see in here.’’
I was right behind Detective Miller, only a few feet separating us. He took us to a staff-only elevator and when he pressed the button that led us upstairs, I felt a chilling sensation rush down my body.
‘‘You’ll be able to see them through glass, but remember the rules,’’ he advised, yet again, as the door opened.
My heart pounded in my ears, and I could barely hear anything. Detective Miller spoke, but all I saw was his mouth moving. I couldn’t hear a thing that came out. I blinked a couple of times, feeling that weird sensation ripple down my body again.
‘‘As some of you already know, a serial killer is imprisoned here, waiting for the date to be announced of his death penalty.’’
My eyes snapped from his lips to his eyes, widening in curiosity. Truth be told, I’d been feeling unmotivated as of late, and didn’t do any research on the prison I visited. I wanted to go head first, and gather information that could end up being helpful with my paper for the master’s degree.
‘‘He is also known as the ‘Terror of the Night,’ as the media has been calling him. He was arrested two years ago, after he was found guilty of the murder of twenty-six people, that we know of.’’
I swallowed harshly.
‘‘That we know of?’’
Detective Miller nodded slowly. ‘‘Yes, the real number has never been confirmed. He’s suspected to have killed over thirty people that have disappeared. It fit into his MO, but he never admitted and the bodies were never discovered.’’
I licked my bottom lip, mouth dry.
‘‘Why did he do it?’’
Everyone in the group alternated between gazing at me and the detective. I was the only one asking questions and writing them down at the same time. The detective seemed to like that someone was engaging and not simply standing there for decoration.
‘‘He was bored.’’
I blinked. ‘‘I’m sorry?’’
‘‘You heard me correctly.’’ He spoke out a little louder for the rest of the group to hear him. ‘‘That was his reasoning. Later on, he was evaluated and diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder and manic depression.’’
A man from the group chimed in. ‘‘So he’s a psychopath and bipolar?’’
That earned him a nasty stare from both the detective and me. If we’d learned anything during our university days, it was to use professional terms, especially in the presence of people diagnosed with them.
However, that exact thought ran through my mind again.
Detective Miller merely nodded towards the elevator. The man scoffed, rolling his eyes, but couldn’t disobey when a prison guard came to his side to escort him out.
