Page 94 of The Quiet Witness

Delivering Justice

The buzzer rang. For Lucien, it was a signal that the kill was officially going to happen.

He rubbed his hands together while slipping on his mask of quiet calm.

No one needed to know how much this would satisfy him.

For today was the day.

The steel bars clicked open while a guard marched behind him, handcuffs jingling with each step. Making sure Lucien would remain unharmed in these quarters. Funny, it hadn’t occurred to them that he was far more lethal than most inmates combined.

Never hurts to keep yourself incognito.

They passed by rows and rows of cells, heavy boots thudding in the silence of the prison. Empty beds, stainless steel toilets. Not a place he’d see himself living in.

Rounding a corner, they came upon a wider room, with nothing but steel tables and chairs to decorate the concrete flooring. Lucien stepped onto the grey stairs leading up, where a special someone sat waiting for him. He motioned for the guard to stay back. “I’ll handle it from here. Thank you, Andrew.”

“How long do you need, sir?”

“Thirty minutes, give or take.”

Andrew nodded with a solemn look. Lucien waited patiently until the guard had jingled down the steps and disappeared from view. The warden had explicitly stated for a guard to remain present at all times. Shame his words were lost on the ears of those listening to… certain higher ranked individuals.

Lucien strode forward, glancing into the one cell that still contained a human life. He forced his tone to one of calm reverence before speaking out over the silent cell block. “Frank Brown. You’ve got no idea how utterly thrilled I am to be meeting you.”

The man sat on his mattress with one knee drawn up. He twisted to see his visitor, greasy hair plastered to his temple, right over his squinting, bruised, blue eye. Even prison hadn’t managed to get him to use shampoo. Shame.

“I have no need for fans.” The inmate drawled.

Lucien strode into the man’s room, already reaching for the small black bag that sat snug around his hips. “I see.”

Frank regarded him with suspicion, gaze zeroed in on the syringe Lucien now held up to the light, drawing up the colorless liquid out of two small vials.

“What are you doing here? Why is everyone else outside?”

And there is the panic I’ve been looking for!

“You should be appreciative of the fact that they are being kept away from you.” Lucien pointed out Frank’s black and blue bruise. “From what I hear, you’re a favorite yourself around these parts.” He tsked, while he ticked out the air, not that it mattered much, but one needed to stay attentive at all times.

“I won’t ask again, why the fuck are you in here?”

“Ohhh!” Lucien shrunk down on himself in mock fear. “Shivers are racing down my spine.” He stilled, at once deadly serious. “Maybe this works better on traumatized females, hmm? But it matters not. Montana state prison, empty just so you and I can have a… pleasant chat, well, pleasant for me.” He winked at the inmate. “After all, this is your very final day on Earth.”

The man quickly swung his legs over the bed. “Who the fuck are you?”

Lucien sprayed the slightest amount off the syringe into the air. “The warden was hesitant of course, but after a little talk we worked it all out.”

Frank pushed off the bed, in two strides he reached Lucien. “I swear, I will fuck you up good if you don’t give me a name now.”

“Orange suits you.”

The inmate swung out with a fist aimed straight for Lucien’s face. He let it come at him, moving his head at the last second, his own hand snapped out, grabbing hold of the punch now veering past his temple. He jerked Frank forward, jamming the needle in his forearm.

“Thank you for the help, Frank.”

The inmate jumped back, eyes wide in shock. “What was that?”

“Ah!” Lucien raised a finger. “I’d love to lay out the deets for that.” This time a real shiver ran down his spine, his vision clearing up like it always did during a kill.