“Roxann Rose Bough, do you know what's going on?”
I looked up at the fat man talking to me and smiled. He looks to be about 5’9”, balding but somehow still greasy hair. He reminds me of a taller version of the Penguin from Batman.
The stains on his faded white button up shirt (minus a button or two) show that he is a coffee drinker…and a sloppy one at that.
The room we are in looks like every other room that I have been handcuffed and not in the fun kind of handcuffed way.
I looked around seeing that it was in an old looking, dingy room. Not dirty dingy, but well used and not maintained. We could be in a police station or a psychiatric ward.
I am quite familiar with both. It was standard faded blue walls with stains lining the floorboards.
The ceiling was yellowed with brown rings in spots indicating that heavy smokers enjoyed this space and on top of it, there was probably a leak when it rained for long periods.
He was looking between me and a wooden clipboard, writing things down with a black ballpoint pen. “How many donut babies have you made orphans with your voracious appetite?”
“You are in police custody in Louisiana. Did you know that?” He said, moping his sweaty head with a cloth handkerchief.
Mental note: I’m in Louisiana.
“Do you hear their little donut baby screams when you close your eyes at night?” I smiled. “And when no one is looking, do you rape the donut mothers? Or is the hole too big?”
His face was getting red and his words were getting flustered. My smirk turned into a giggle.
“Do you have donut babies out there that go to sleep at night, asking their raped donut mommies who their father is?”
His face started turning almost purple and I started laughing.
“It’s okay, Krispy Kreme….your little secret is safe with me.”
He resumed talking, trying to ignore my words, talking over me to get control of the conversation again. “You were brought into custody after breaking into the police evidence locker here.”
I abruptly stopped laughing and stared directly at him. “The daemon whispered freedoms into my ear, but the end of his tongue was spiked with venom and he stung me.” I snapped.
He just looked at me and I smiled again. “If I lick you, will you be sweet or will you taste like the color black like the color of your eyes?”
“The files you were attempting to leave with were from a high profile case. Was that random choice or do you have interest in the case?”
I stared at him.
“Not my name, Dunkin!” I snapped.
“I was blessed by Guardian, he calls me by my number and when we fuck…” I slide back in my chair and open my legs, smirking as I see my guardians face come into focus in front of me and I moan.
“He pulls my hair and slaps my face.”
“You are being sent to the state hospital for evaluation.” He said calmly.
I get slammed back into this reality and it’s highly disappointing. “Whatever you say, Sprinklestache.”
“You destroyed federal investigation evidence.”
“No I didn’t.” I said simply.
“You lit them on fire and took out three of the cops that tried to apprehend you, Roxann.” He said, his voice was wavering.
I smiled, lifting my chained hands to touch his arm, but I couldn’t reach. “That's not my name, but I have good news for you…” I smiled reassuringly at him.
He stopped waiting for the good news, but i knew how to draw him in. I had to wait him out. I said nothing and he sighed rolling his eyes. “What’s the good news?”
I smiled. “I didn’t hurt the donuts.”
He came at me in anger and I instantly took advantage of his closeness and took the pen from him, stabbing his neck and wrapping the cuff chains around his throat.
I brought my lips to his ear and I breathily whispered. “My name is Seven.”
I release my grip, letting his lifeless body drop to the floor. I snag his keys, and as I undo my restraints, an idea comes to mind, a smile creeping into my face.
Just one thing left to do before I take my leave. There has to be one in this place somewhere….