Destroy what Destroys you
Chapter 2- Michael's POVI shifted my hands from left to right, tugging the cuffs harder on my wrists. The metal caused a burning sensation; a pain as sweat as sugar. The pain was addictive. Suffering was my drug. My body yearned for me to pull harder, causing the skin to pierce and allow the flow of rose red blood seep out.
A creak made me stop dead in my tracks. My gaze slowly drifted across the room to the door a girl, no, a woman stood in front of me. Her long, slender legs were covered in black denim. Her small waist and torso were tightly gripped with a white, low cut V-neck, showing more cleavage than she should. Her thick curly hair and been thrown into a ponytail. The bags under her eyes were the only flaw on her smoothly complex face. The woman’s brown eyes shone as she walked towards me. I knew her very well. The woman was Camille Caputo. I killed her mother.
Camille flipped the metal chair around making loud clacking noises and causing her knuckles to turn white. She set her coffee down and straddled the chair. I stared at her chocolate eyes intensely. Camille’s breathing rate increased. I smirked at her and her eyes shot away.
“Camille,” I said smoothly keeping my eyes on her. “How’s everything going?”
“Why her?” Camille’s little voice shook without her knowing. She didn’t look up at me.
“Which one? There was many women in my life if I remember correctly.”
“Which one was your mother?” I knew exactly whom she was talking about. Camille looked just like her mother, which brought back screams and the faint sweet scent of blood…
“My mother! Sam Caputo!” She screamed standing up and slamming her fists on the table so hard she could’ve made dents.
“Oh yes, Samantha,” The words seeped out of my mouth slower than molasses. “I’m not entirely sure. There was something about her. Maybe it was the way she screamed when the blade hit her skin.”
Camille’s eyes widened and my lips curved into a thin smile. She took hold of the chair and screamed loudly. She came towards me, her eyes filled with hatred and sadness. I knew she wouldn’t hit me. She wasn’t capable of hurting me. Camille was too emotionally unstable to do anything.
The door swung open and her partner, whose name I didn’t know, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. She fought to get loose and attack me, but failed. I kept a smile on my face as the officers came in, unlocked me from the table and lifted me out of the seat.
“You sick bastard!” Camille yelled with tears rimming her eyes. She was weak. “I hope you rot in hell!”
“I’ll see you there,” I said grinning and walking out the door to the prison.