Lovely Little Psychopath

Lilly, a cute delicate little name for a girl that isn't so cute and delicate.
She wouldn't have a problem slipping poison into your morning coffee just to watch you writher on the floor in agony, or cutting your breaks and watching you run through a stop light and hit a fire hydrant. Lilly doesn't seem much like a cute little girl anymore, does she?

But, this is a book about a Psychopath, so what did you really expect?


3. Consideration

"Do you have a daughter?" She asked him, as the previously deserted halls they had been walking down became crowded with the hustle and bustle that signified a weekend night.

"No, I don't have any children, my wife and I decided that it wouldn't be in the best interest of an infant to be the child of the most hated man in town." He stated bitterly.

"You're hardly the most hated man in town, I've never even heard of you let alone hated you." She wasn't trying to comfort him, just stating a fact, but her sent her a wane smile anyway, a small thank you for the assurance that she hadn't meant to give him.

"Alright, this is it." He said, indicating the little barred in piece of a corner.

She looked up at him, giving him a look of complete and utter annoyance, and stepped inside. When the door locked behind her she knew that she was in for a long night. The little cell was empty and she could imagine why. There was another cell across the way, and it was home to a group of males that seemed to be eyeing her warily.

"I once castrated a man for less than this." She stated, not threatening, just like she was stating a fact, a single monotone unimportant fact, as though she were telling them the sky was blue or rain was wet.

The group of men all looked away from her, all accept one.

He was bulky, heavily built, but more like a body builder than a McDonalds frequenter. There were two piercings in his lower lip, little rings that disappeared into his mouth and twitched slightly as his tongue moved over them from with in. There was a dark tattoo covering most of his right arm and probably part of his chest, but she wasn't sure because the tee-shirt he was wearing covered him. The tight blue fabric seemed to be screaming for mercy as it stretched itself to its limits over the bulging muscles of this stranger.

He continued to watch her, flicking away at his piercings, deep in thought.

"May I help you?" She asked, irritated by the looks this green eyed man was giving her. Like she was a memory he couldn't quite place. It irritated her when people examined her like she was a specimen.

"Actually," he started, getting up and moving toward the bars of his cage, "Actually, I don't think you can, but I can help you. You're the crazy chick bumping off guys left and right, right?"

She shrugged, not willing to incriminate herself. "Depends who's asking." She blinked coolly, like the entire thing was uninteresting to her, which it was, but she loved a side game.

"Let's just say a friend of mine benefited from a few of her kill and is looking to repay her, so if you do see her, pass on the message, would you?" He requested, catching on to her game quickly.

"If I knew her I would definitely pass the information on," she nodded subtly indicating to him that she understood. The officers were all to busy to notice what they were doing, so she doubted they needed to talk in code beside the fact that the holding cell full of males was listening to them. Though, they were already in jail, so she didn't see why she needed to worry about them. Of course you never know who'll end up being a snitch.

"Good, and if you do see her, and she just so happens to be on the North side, let her know she isn't welcomed there, but the West is always willing to take her in." He nodded to her, ever so slightly, indicating that there was a meaning behind this. She had spent a lot of time on the North side of town lately, perhaps she had killed a few stray gang members without realizing it. Well, there was always an upside to everything she supposed.

"I will let her know, if I ever so happen to see her." She assured him.

"Oh, and one more thing." He continued. "The invitation can always be revoked."

"Well," She stated standing and focusing on her nails, wiping them clean of non-existent dirt as she approached the bars. "I'm sure that she would want you to know that she doesn't need an invitation to be anywhere."

She brushed her nails along the once long black skirt that was now tattered and short and looked up into his green eyes, piecing them with her own deep gaze. "And I'm sure she'd also like you to know that she doesn't care where she's welcome, because she goes where she wants."

There was a tightness to his body, a hardness to his jaw, just the look of him angry, it made her... something. She had never been good with putting names to emotions, especially not this. Just the angry way that he looked at her it was an indescribable emotion that was coursing through her, beating in time with her heart.

"Well, just the same, let her know she's always welcomed." He smiled with obvious difficulty and she returned it with a fake one of her own.

"And I'm sure she's grateful." She nodded and sat down, this time with her back to the other cell. She had seen the little urinal that they were all going to share, and didn't want to see anything that she shouldn't.

"Hey, chica loca, I could use a crazy time, why don't you let them move me into your cell eh? We could put on a show for all these nice people." A voice spoke from behind her a thick cholo accent which immediately hated for no apparent reason. Despite that she turned and smiled contently at the man making the offer.

"Is someone in need of a little companionship?" She smirked lightly, her tone suggestive. Unfortunately for him it wasn't suggest of what he was wishing it would be.

"Maybe just a stay for the night chica, unless you beg for more." He smirked, but she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. She smirked, sensing her opening.

"Do you want to be dominate little gang banger. I'll push you onto your knees in front of me and rip the head from your body and let you watch yourself die, is that enough companionship for you?" She asked, initially erotic, but becoming a sickly sweet that made her even more threatening.

She watched his eyes widen in panic, and he stepped away from the bars, as far from her as her could get. She smirked victoriously and gave a warning glance to the man she deduced to be his friend who was also looking at her.

Right as she was about to turn around she saw the man that had addressed her before. He had a smirk of his own on his face, and it too was triumphant.

"Good move." he mouthed to her, and she smiled.

"Why?" she asked allowed, not seeing a need to whisper or hide their conversation from the others. He followed her lead as he too spoke freely.

"Five men in his gang have been killed by 'her'." He stated, shrugging, "He's not even close to being in charge though that was why he shrunk away from the thought of control."

She grinned and shot the stranger who had hit on her a wink, which he shied away from. She laughed manically, and looked back at the man with the tattoo on his arm. "It's such a shame the weaklings people have become, it's people like him that make my life easer though."

"And why is that?" wondered the muscly pierced man asked, looking honestly curious. I leaned out of the bars, my face just barely pushing through and whispered seductively.

"Men like him aren't nearly strong enough to take me." I let my eyes flicker to his lips, licking my own, before going back up to his eyes, smiling seductively. "Therefore they pose no threat and I don't have any sort of urge to kill him. If more men like him existed I may not have to kill at all."

"Why do you kill?" he questioned, coming closer, "Is it just for thrill."

She laughed, "Why would  risk my life for a thrill? No, it's because I've been hurt by men, so I have to hurt men."

His eyes softened, and then he became angry. "Who?" He questioned, fury building in his eyes. She had never had a problem admitting why she killed, or even that she did so, now that the entirety of the cell beside her knew there was simply no point in pretending that she wasn't the killed they all guessed she was.

"My step-father," she replied nonchalantly. "He was my first time and my first kill." She informed him.

He shook his head, a pain in the set of his jaw that she didn't quite understand. He just kept shaking his head, and he seemed sort of hazy, it took her a moment to realize his body was vibrating with anger, well, that was strange.

"Why are you so angry?" She questioned, not understanding his motivations. He just shook his head and gritted his teeth harder, the muscle in his jaw popping and the veins in his neck swelling, along with the ones in his arms as his hands gripped the bars.

She tilted her head, but did not press him, instead she watched and waited, knowing that with time all secrets are revealed.

She wasn't sure how long she watched him, but eventually the tension eased, and he finally opened his eyes, which had cooled from their bright green flames to a cool ember.

"Sorry about that, that's a touchy subject. My little sister was raped and murdered by an opposing gang. The one that you're so fond of picking off." He explained. She nodded, understanding the pain and immediately knowing this man posed no threat to her. She would think very hard before killing him now.

"I'm not necessarily found of picking them off, so many of them just so happen to have blue eyes, or blond hair, or resemble him in some other indeterminate way." She shrugged. She saw the only man with blond hair in the cell containing five scoot behind the only other man she had let to threaten in the cell. The cholo and his buddy were still cowering in the corner, speaking amongst themselves.

He nodded. "I'm Lucifer by the way." He informed her.

"Lilly." She replied, smiling at the ironic name for a man who was obviously very high up in whatever gang he was in.

"Well Lilly, when we get out of here what do you say to a little mischief making?" He offered, glancing in the direction of the guard, who had his back to us and appeared to be paying them no mind.

"If my mischief making you mean tripping some drunks in a bar and getting wasted out of this world I'd say I'm in." She smiled, wondering if she would be allowed to run home to fix herself first. She was still wearing the torn black skirt and her hair was a mess, that would simply never do.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...