Blood Lust

"She's a bold one, this woman. You think she'll actually go through with the case?" Correction officer Allen Stapleton asked his partner Ray Thomas. They stood, with their backs against the steal bolted door. They held their shotguns firmly, but their hands still trembled, staring down the narrow halls, awaiting her arrival.

"I don't know man, there hasn't been an attorney in town that would represent him...can't really say I blame 'em." Ray replied, raking his baldhead with his stubby fingers. Allen shook his head and exhaled.

"Twenty-three, Twenty-fucking-three. I've seen some sick-ohs in my day but this guy. He just tops the cake." He snarled.

"Man, I don't understand what makes half these fuckers do half the shit they do, it's beyond me." Ray snarled. The sound of light stiletto heals echoed threw the empty corridor. The men looked up watching Violet Sylvermen approaching them with quick sharp footsteps. Her briefcase swayed back and forth with the rhythm of her moving body that was securely tucked away in a fitted pinstriped pants suit. Her face was poise but stern with her black hair firmly pulled back in a neat bun.

"Afternoon gentlemen." She greeted as she approached them both.

"Afternoon, Ms.Sylvermen." Allen out stretched his hand; Violet with out hesitation shook his hand with a firmness that caught him off guard.

"That's, quite a handshake." He smirked, shaking her hand. Her face remained somber as she cocked an eyebrow.

"So is he willing to speak with me? Or did he decline?" She got straight to the point. Ray cleared his throat.

"Surprisingly, he agreed to meet with you." He replied huskily. Violet nodded slowly, wedging herself between the two of them she peeped through the small rectangular window. He sat in a steel chair, bolted to the ground, his messy strands of hair veiling his eyes. Handcuffed to the chair he sat waiting patiently, serenely. She turned to face the men, unlike them, she seemed very at ease about the meeting.

"Okay, open the door." She said in a monotonous tone. Allen nodded; mumbling 'excuse me' as he moved towards the door, and unlocking it. He hesitated before opening the door.

"I know you confirmed it. But I just have to ask you yet again. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" For the first time through out their several meetings prior to this moment, Violet smiled. The contrast of her ivory teeth to her dark brown skin brighten every beautiful detail of her face.

"Mr. Stapleton, I'll have you know, that some psycho rapist, who's only means of getting laid is raping young air heads that remind him of the popular girl who wouldn't fuck him in high school, is not going to scare me away. I've dealt with mother's that drowned their babies. Sex offenders that get off to the pain and ravaged innocence of children. And serial rapist that severed their victims into countless pieces after brutally raping the shit out of them. I do believe I can handle this situation just fine. Don't you agree?" She stared him down, her brown eyes showing no warmth. Allen swallowed hard, and nodded with comprehension as he allowed his self to open the door. She swiftly glide pass him, into the solitary room. The door shut behind her, leaving her alone, with the man the headline's named "The anti-Christ". She watched him closely, before setting herself in the seat across from him. He didn't look up, or even acknowledge her existence. He kept his head lowered, as if he were shamed. Hell, he probably was shamed, most of the clients Violet had were shamed. Mentally sick people, who couldn't escape themselves. Couldn't escape their urges. They'd keep their heads lowered through out the entire case, avoiding eye contact with the threatening and scolding eyes of the people around them. Pleading for sympathy for their sick desires that they so loosely labeled a mental illness. She sighed, she knew this process all to well. Step one: Gain the trust of her client, so that all of her actions went with out questioning. Step two: Win the case. Step three: Get the money. It was as simple and tedious as that. The only difference with this guy was, he was loaded. Millionaire loaded. Winning this case meant obtaining $500,000+ and that was all the persuasion Violet needed. She cleared her throat, placing her brief case on the table and opening it. She pulled a folder thick with papers and files from the case and dropped them onto the table. She organized herself before finally stating.

"I know you're wondering why I called you here today." He stayed silent, his eyes still hidden. She waited a second longer, trying not to loose her patience. If there was one negative quality that rivaled her professionalism, it would be lack of patience. She sighed and opened her folder.

"I arranged this meeting because I want to reopen your case." She informed. She watched him slowly lift his head, until he locked his gray eyes with hers. She was shocked by how handsome he was. A handsome rapist seemed like an oxymoron to her. Most of her past clients that were rapist were awkward looking and filled with sexual frustration, due to lack of physical contact with the female body. Or they were past victims of child abuse that grew to be physically appalling and social disinclined. But this guy was far from that, the strands of black hair cascaded on his attractive ashen face. His eyes seem sleepy, almost as if he were dreaming with his eyes open. He grinned deviously.

"Is that right?" The tone and dept of his voice was spin chilling. Feeling just a tad uneasy, Violet shifted in her uncomfortable steel chair.

"Yes. Only if you're willing to accept my offer." She kept her cool. He folded his large hands atop of the table, leaning forward as if wanting to show interest. He stared at his fiddling fingers.

"So," He eyed her.

"You want to represent me?" he grinned.

"Yes I do." She replied with a nod. He ran his fingers along his neatly cut goatee; his self-image seemed very well taken cared of despite his present location. He continued to study her, his tongue lightly grazing his lips. His gazed devoured her slowly, planting fear deep into her. But Violet never backed down from a fight. Growing up in a tough neighborhood, with harsh living conditions and a coke addict for a mother, Violet didn't let a small dosage of fear break her.

"Have you any idea, what I've done?" He said in a low tone. His eyes seemed to glow with deviance. He drank her in; her oval shaped face decorated with almond shaped eyes, a round button nose and luscious pouty lips that he thought would feel amazing wrapped around his pulsating cock. She tore her eyes away from his, trying to find a way to lower the level of intensity that clouded the room.

"I am very aware of what you've done. But it's of no relevance to me. I want to represent you and help you win this case." He sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his torso. All his muscles flexed, nearly bursting out of his orange jump suite. If he indeed raped and killed all those women, the majority must have died from the sex alone. For the way he was built, he looked like he could cause fatal damage. Violet's face flushed, and the heat between her legs was painfully torturing her. Could it be possible that she was sexually attracted to him? No, it couldn't be, if that were the case she was just as sick as he was.

"So what exactly would you be getting out of this? No, woman, would be so willing to fight for the freedom of a serial rapist. Or has times changed since I've been locked up?"

"It's your money." She replied nonchalantly. He cocked his head to the side.

"Your willing to put a convicted rapist on the streets, for money?" He questioned. She shrugged.

"A girl's gotta eat, right?"

"Hmm, aren't you afraid of what would happen to you if I was turned loose on society? Or are you that money hungry?" he grinned.

"You seem to have more questions then I do. Let's just make this quick and simple. If you let me, I will do everything in my power to make sure you gain your freedom. In return, I get the money and the publicity. Your case will help my career skyrocket. You just need to keep silent, and let me handle the tough stuff. Deal?" she watched him. He watched her. This girl had an ego to big for him to tolerate; she needed to be put in her place. There was nothing he loved more, then to strip power from women who believed they were greater than thou.

"I accept, your offer." He replied, his face equivalent to granite. Violet beamed brighter than a Christmas tree.

"Excellent! We got a deal." She offered him a subtle handshake. Taking her hand in his, a deal with the devil had just been made.

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"I here by declare Camron Masochis, not guilty, due to lack of evidence against the defendant." The judge banged his gable. The courtroom's silence was broken by the cries and gasps of disbelief, followed by the curses thrown at Camron and his attorney, Violet. He sat in the wooden chair staring into nothingness as the judge continued to beat his gable.

"Order! Order!" He shouted at the outraged people. Families of his past victims cried hysterically, not only cursing Camron, but also the jury, the judge and Violet as well. She straightened her posture, soaking in the slurs and shouts of disgust that were thrown at her and her client.

"He's a monster! A monster! How can you put this...this...thing back on the streets!" One devastated mother cried. Her husband held her, staring intensely at the back of Camron's head. Violet sighed and glanced at her client, he glanced back; with that disturbing smile that made a wave of guilt hit her. Behind that smile, those compelling gray eyes laid the grim reality that he was going to cause twice the damage he did before. Security came to escort them both out of the court, pass the swarming mob of grieving love ones, paparazzi and news reporters. As they squeezed passed them, heading for the exit out of the courtroom, he locked eyes with one of his victim's mother. She glared at him, with fury burning in her soul, in her heart. Her glassy red eyes, filled with heavy tears that wouldn't fall. Misery, was embedded on her face. Misery so intense that it caused her body to hunch over in agony. Her head slowly moved from side to side, as her thin lips worded "Why". He smiled, that demonic smile before puckering his lips into a kiss. Her mouth loosely fell open as she blinked repetitively at him. The tears finally came falling and she fell into her husband's arms sobbing bitterly. Violet gripped her briefcase tighter as she watched the grieving woman beg to let God take her instead. She swallowed down the guilt that slowly elevated to the surface. What have she done? Letting this, man back into the world to prey on vulnerable young women, again. She didn't even want to think of all the horrendous things this city would face. She just exhaled as she and Camron ventured into the sea of flashing lights of the dozens of cameras outside.

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"Make it a triple." She muttered to the bartender. He poured her another glass. She took it before he could turn the bottle right side up, gulping it all down with one swallow. She sat it back on the table.

"Keep 'em coming." She kept her eyes on the glass, waiting for the glass to magically be refilled. She winced when she noticed it stayed empty. She looked up at the bartender.

"Well?" She shook the glass.

"I-I think you should take it easy for the rest of the night." He said softly. She sat up straight, sighing with frustration.

"Listen little shit, it's my money that's keeping this dump open and keeping you from an undignified job at Mickey D's. Now either pour me another glass or prepare to have your scrawny ass living on the streets." She snapped. She pushed the glass in his direction, it slide over the edge. Fumbling, he caught it before it hit the floor. He bit the inside of his cheeks, as his nostrils flared. He slammed the tiny glass in front of her along with an entire bottle of whiskey.

"Fill it up yourself, bitch." He hissed, walking away to tend to someone else. She shrugged, wasn't the first time she was called that. Watching the liquor rise to rim she listened to the breaking news on the television that hung from the ceiling in front of her.

"Nineteen year old Abigail Gasby was last seen in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn at 9:30 PM. Local residents claimed to have seen her talking to an unfamiliar man. But couldn't give a distinct description of the suspicious male." The news reporter announced. Violet set the bottle down slowly, after pouring her glass and looked up to see the picture of the missing girl. Her heart sanked when the girl had similar characteristics of all of Camron Masochis's past victim's. Petite, longhaired, Caucasian, young and evidently...stupid. If in fact this girl is or was another victim of his, he probably won her over with the same charm and sex appeal young girls like her craved for.

"Oh shit." She whispered to herself. She swallowed a glass full of whiskey, letting it burn her chest, in hopes it'll set all the guilt on fire. It had been three months since she won his case and it was eating away at her. The worry, and the remorse for the future credulous young women that were soon to become the casualty of his sick sexual escapades dragged her down to the pits of depression. The $750,400 she gained from the case barely seemed worth it now. Even if she was able to buy that three bedroom, two bath condo in the upper east side of Manhattan. The only thing that kept her from falling off the brink of sanity was that small hint of denial that Camron didn't go back to his old ways.

"Vy, baby? What are you doing here?" Violet turned around.

"Lucas. Wha-. I just wanted to get a drink." She explained to her fiancé. He stood beside her with his arm around her shoulders.

"It's late babe, I called you like five times. You never answered, I was worried." He sat beside her, still not taking his eyes off his estranged wife to be. She leaned her head in the palm of hand.

"I just, needed some space, to clear my head." She muttered. Lucas looked at the bottle of whiskey that stood parallel from her and sighed.

"Come on baby, let me drive you home."

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Lucas held the door open; letting Violet into their luxury apartment they recently bought. Money was coming in fast for the both of them. Violet's recent court case with Camron, and Lucas's software company, that business magazines claimed to be Microsoft's future rival was packing more cash into their pockets then the both of them ever had. They both grew up in the projects. They started out as friends, keeping each other safe when no one else would. It wasn't until their junior year of high school, when they started going out. Lucas Singleton, was Violet's first and only boyfriend and lover as well. She lost her virginity to him after graduating from high school. After that, they were practically inseparable. Putting an end to all stereotypes about teen love. Even after the financial slumps they faced after graduating from NYU. They both remained unemployed, for almost a year, until their luck made a huge turning point and money was no longer an issue. And here they were, in a 2.3 million dollar condo, in one of the most luxurious neighborhoods in Manhattan. Violet kicked off her shoes, then kicked them to the side. She burst into playful giggles as she stumble on her own feet. There was no doubt about it, she was drunk. She snatched the jacket to her designer pants suit off and threw it onto the armrest of the sofa. She fell onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Lucas approached her quietly, kneeling beside the sofa, he scanned her as if trying to find the answer to his questions some where in her. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him. Her eyes seemed furlong and tired.

"What?" She asked him. He gently took her hand in his.

"I'm worried about you Vy. Ever since you won that case, you've been extremely depressed and distant. You get drunk everyday. Before it was twice maybe three times a week, but in the past month you can't even go a day with out drinking, baby. Tell me what's wrong?" He pleaded with her. She glared at him, her eyes speaking volumes of agonizing guilt. She looked away from him, once she felt the tears easing from her eyes. Lucas squeezed her hand.

"Violet, baby. Talk to me." She shut her eyes, quickly shaking her head. The tears came pouring.

"I can't." She sobbed.

"You can't?" He moved her legs to the side so she can sit beside her. He sat her legs on top of his lap.

"What do you mean you can't? There's nothing you can't tell me, Violet." He reached out to touch her face but she backed away quickly. Still shaking her head. She snatched her hair out of its usual tight bun, allowing it fall untidily onto her shoulders.

"No, no. I can't. I don't want to think-." Her voice cracked. She raked her fingers through her hair as she curled into a fetal position. Pressing her forehead against her knees.

"You don't want to think about what?" He lifted her head up tenderly by the chin. She finally looked upon him with out resisting eye contact. His smooth cinnamon brown skin was clear of any blemish. Those warm hazel brown eyes put her heart at ease despite the pain she was going through.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it, Lucas. Just, hold me, please." She whimpered. He nodded in response to her request. Pulling her body onto his lap, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he wrapped his arms around hers. She leaned against his toned chest, soaking his button down white shirt with her tears of regret. He rubbed her back, trying to massage the pain away. He squeezed her ever so tightly and she pressed her body against him. She melted in his arms. Letting every second she spent in his rapture bring her back to life. He kissed her forehead, once, twice, and a third time. Each kiss, lingering a second longer then the last. She sighed, placing her hand against his warm cheek, her thumb rubbed his cheek, then his ear. Her spine tensed when his soft full lips kissed her neck. Holding her closer, he let his tongue and lips slowly explore her neck. She threw her head back, letting a moan escape from her lips. Running his fingers through her hair, he gently pulled her face to his. He kissed the tears that stained her face. She slowly pulled away so she could unbutton her blouse. He watched in anticipation, as she loosened each button. He squeezed her bountiful ass until she finally removed her long sleeved blouse. Behind those conservative pants suites, hid a body that to this day Lucas couldn't resist. The blouse graciously fluttered to the floor. She smiled faintly at the lascivious look in his eyes. He ran his hands up her body, feeling his hands take in the hourglass shape of her figure. He unlatched her bra and pealed it from her body, revealing her full breast. He leaned into her chest, letting his hot tongue stoke her erect nipples.

"Mmmm." She moaned louder at the sudden shock of pleasure. He let his hand cup and squeeze the other breast as she motioned her hips back and forth against his lap. His dick stiffened in response. He clenched his teeth on the sensitive nub. Arching her back, she continued to grind her hips against him. Letting the friction of his harden member rubbing against her clit moisten her pussy. She pulled him closer to her chest, panting and rocking against him. She kissed his lips hungrily as soon as he pulled away from her breast. Eagerly she unbuttoned his shirt, moaning against his lips. Throwing his shirt to the floor, they both impatiently fumbled with the button and zipper to their pants. Still keeping their hips in motion. Him grunting through clench teeth and her whimpering. They quickly stood, pulling off their pants along with their under garments. She pulled him into her roughly, kissing his chest and running her hands up his toned physique. He wasn't large, but he wasn't small either. He was built like a track star. But he could still handle her thick frame with ease. He especially proved his self when he lifted her up by her thighs. She wrapped her legs around him.