Revenant (Ch 1)

Isaac’s fingers played with the hem on his tie. The fibers were well knitted, he observed. Not a single stitch out of place, nor a thread pulled. Perfectly made. He wished there was a relationship he could draw between his tie and himself. How could a red piece of fabric be so professional, yet hold an air of consistent reliability? Isaac based his entire existence on being someone to respect. He guessed that sometimes you can only command that kind of admiration when your name is renowned. One day. 

“He’s ready for you.” Isaac looked up at the two guards hovering nearby a steel door. The wear on the front showed its age a little more than he would have liked. A prison like this should be up to code on everything, surely. It housed these deadbeats and degenerates for good reason. One of the guards, who erred on the older side, waved him over. The younger stood tall in the doorway, staring him down like fresh meat. Isaac didn’t blame him. You had to be that way around here. The investigator made his way to the door. As he got closer, the sign above it was easier to read.

Maximum Security. Of course.

The two guards led him from the “waiting room” (it was more like a chair sat in the middle of the hallway), through the doorway. That’s when everything felt like a new universe. It was as though he stepped through a portal into a new world of unimaginable horrors. Yelling, laughing, screaming, all at once. Isaac was made aware that his tiny existence was nothing to the vulnerability he felt then. An expansive room full of bloodthirsty felons, each capable of killing him in moments had they been able to escape lock down. Even with the two guards there meant to protect him, he felt nothing but fear. The terror of what could be done to him; The curiosity of what could be the undoing of his life.

The door shut hard behind him, making him teeter forward into one of the guards. The younger had slammed the door, making heads turn. The uproarious cries and chattering had all but cut off. A newcomer. Fresh meat. 

Isaac heard a few whispers and taunts fly his way, but he tried to pay no mind. The guards didn’t seem too bothered. However, the cold eeriness seeped into his blood. Frost nibbled his heart and goosebumps made hills on his porcelain skin. Invisible fingers buried their chipped nails into his flesh and ripped it away from his bones to reveal the interior. 

He was petrified. 

Down the hall they walked, dodging the crude comments tossed in the air. They were lost on Isaac, but he internalized their thought process. ‘C’mere little boy, looks like you lost your daddy’ was his favorite. He understood that many of these men were broken versions of who they once were. They were stuck in a place that destroyed their wills and practically used them as free slaves. It sickened him, yet… Some of these people deserve to be here. 

He noted that some prisoners were sitting in their cells, simply doing more than taunting him. Maybe reading, or minding their own business. That’s how you got out. There were a few men trying to get his attention as they passed. ‘Innocent!’ They screamed. ‘I’m innocent! Those men are crooks!’ He looked at the guards and somehow… He didn’t doubt the prisoners’ words. They were cocky, he decided. They barely had to say words for him to know. It was all in their walk; all in their aura. That was why he was in this field, after all. He could read people’s intentions better than most. A talent, really.  Issac bowed his head and continued to walk until they took a sharp left to solitary confinement. 

“He’s going to be in the basement. We keep him far away from everyone. It’s precautionary.” Issac furrowed his brow. He had taken the time to read up on the man’s file before he arrived. A luxurious allure that seemed to possess his victims. A narcissistic personality, no less. Finnick Vernersen, infamous serial killer with an estimated body count of 47, but Issac knew it was likely bigger than that. His type never stopped at that small of a number. They always kill and kill until they physically can’t anymore. There was a moment of conflicting motives. Adrenaline forced his legs to plant themselves. If he moved any closer to those stairs, who knew what other things awaited him? Yet, he had a job to do. People’s lives could be at stake and the least he could do was cross-reference some psycho in a creepy basement. 

Isaac inhaled shakily, trying to still his racing heart. It isn’t like the man will be out of his cell. He has two armed guards and a cell between him and this ferocious man. That should be enough, hopefully.

They began their descent, the two guards talking back and forth about the prisoner in mind. They were bad talking him, which didn’t surprise Isaac in any regard. This man was evil incarnate. His files were so thorough about the things he’d do and never do. He wasn’t particular about who he murdered, although Isaac didn’t exactly like to hear that a murderer was that desperate for blood. It wasn’t unheard of, but it was certainly rare.

They came to the bottom of the stairs, and it became clear what he was dealing with. Isaac remembered watching Silence of the Lambs when he was younger, and how terrified he had been. Here he was, asking for advice from a depraved killer who may or may not help him. The similarities were uncanny.

The hallway was dark, other than the dull overhead lights that shone with yellow luster. His eyes adjusted to the dark, but his brain didn’t. All of the people lurking in the cells they passed scared him. Criminals awaiting their execution, or simple existing until they finally die. They were the reason he did his job.

“Alright, here we are. You can walk in, he’s already restrained and set up.”

Restrained???

Issac nearly laughed out of shock. It irked him more that they were nonchalant about having to ‘restrain and set up’ a physical human being. He nodded and opened the steel door. The small window was a tad too high from him to look through, but he didn’t think that mattered. He was going to see what monster awaited him on the other side anyway.

A tall man greeted him on the other side. What was with all these men being ungodly tall? Finnick Vernersen looked just like his mugshots. Clean shaved, smug and… Well, normal. His black hair was swept back out of his face, and he had uncomfortably dark eyes that followed him around the room. He looked like any average (albeit handsome) man. He supposed that’s how he lured his victims in.

Finnick was bound in a simple pair of handcuffs. They were heavy duty, so Isaac brushed off some of his fear, this man was positively retrained. He sat down in a chair, looking Isaac up and down. A smirk fell on his lips, and he laughed to himself. Isaac exhaled in a sigh. This man was certainly going to be an issue.

With mustered courage and spite, Isaac flashed a strained smile.

‘Let’s get this over with.’

“Good evening, Mister Vernersen. My name is Isaac Graves, I am a private investigator for this facility and I’m here to ask you a few questions.”