FicWad

Frank's P.O.V.

The air clogging my lungs at the moment was stale, overused, and recycled, slowly disintegrating into stuffy carbon dioxide that seeped through the walls of my rib cage, contaminating all surrounding organs with its vicious toxic poisons. I'd love to have stood there for an eternity, trapped in a labyrinth with hands clinging to a handle that in the very second it is pulled backward, will change my life inevitably forever. This wasn't like being lost in a maze though, where you've finally reached the end and all your hearts will plunges you forward through the exit and into the starving winds that will ravenously gnaw at your frame, and the scavenger suns deliciously sweet beams that scour your flesh in search of the treasure that lies burrowed in your bones. No, this was nothing like that, nothing like that at all, there was no possible positive outcome that lie on the other side of this door…

In fact, I'll be lucky if I even make it into the room without being torn apart by misshapen, bony fingers. Oh I would have loved to just stand there and let my own anxiety and adrenaline dissolve my flesh until I was a swimming mass of air, but unfortunately, there was no other option, this is what I was sent to do and if I returned empty handed without my face even once appearing on the hidden security tape… then I'll lose a passion that I have starved for all my life. This was a job that I could never dare let slip through my fingers, I have been clawing my way to these offices since I was a child, there is no way I could just crumble it up like a ink tarnished sheet of paper and start completely over. I just couldn't do that.

I slowly exhaled the vast amount of air that was drowning my lungs, gripping my fingers tightly around now damp and warm handle, twisting it firmly. My eyes lidded themselves tightly, guarding my fragile porcelain irises in the thin flesh colored shield that lies stitched in random strays of red and blue veins, as my body gently shifted into the room, wedging between the small amount of room I allowed myself between the door and the wall. . It wasn't planned, maybe it was sheer instinct knowing that this man was a killer whom when described to me was told to look like a mutilated and disgusting beast, but it was common sense for any person, criminal investigator or not, you do not and I repeat, do not close your eyes when walking into a room whose walls enclose a repulsive murderer. Maybe that was my first mistake…

I felt the perfumed precipitating breath snaking across my cheeks, even with eyes closed I winced at the roughness of the water colored red eyes that burrowed into my flesh, excavating every cavity that lie nestled in the bone fragile bone structure that I now would like to deny of being my face. Besides all I had been told of how hideous and mutilated that the creature standing in front of me was… my eyes still burned, itching and squirming behind tightly sewn shut eyelids to let even a small squint of the séance before me to seep through in a fuzzy film. It's almost like when you tell a child not to look at something, the first thing they think about is why they can't look and how it is that they will be able to manage a peek, telling someone something like that is something that you just don't do, not if you really don't want them to see. Then again, no one told me not to look… well no one that ordered me to walk in here and speak with this…thing anyway.

"You know how very unwise of a decision you are making right now, don't you, Frankie? What with the way you have very conveniently left this door open just wide enough to my liking so that I could easily slip through for an escape? Ah, and even more convenient that your eyes may be closed long enough for me to make a quick incision in the abdomen or throat so that I could make an easy task of slipping into your clothing and swivel down the hall and right out of this dungeon, you still don't even consider that, do you, Frankie? Tisk, tisk young Franklin… you have much to learn before you can even dare handling a so called… monster such as myself, although as inaccurate as that name might be, I must say I do take a fraction of pride in earning such a title, don't you think so, Frank?" the divinely elegant and already all to distinct voice taunted, swelling and pouring over my face, the vibrations of sound shuddering in a riveting manner across my raw and exposed flesh.

He was right, as much as I would deny the fact of ever taking a word of advice from a man who killed so many people… I still couldn't deny that he was right. I should be dead for such an amateur and foolish move, for all I know he could be standing there with some sort of self created weapon, waiting for me to open up my eyes in this very instant so that he could carry out the exact operation that he just allowed my fragile mind to take part in hearing. At least I will know how I am going to die…