Honest

I met him in prison. Now that I look back, maybe that should've been a reg flag. He was chained like a monster, even in his cell. The darkness cast a harsh shadow on his face; it suited him. He looked at me indifferently. "Who are you?" He rasped lowly. I smiled feebly. "I'm Doctor Brown. Can you tell me your name?" He sat back in the chair, as it creaked under his massive stature. "I'm Ray." I nod, writing it down. It seems he knows his name. "So, do you mind telling me why you're in here?" He shrugged. "Hit and run." I nod, writing that down. "And did you do it?" He focused those brown eyes on me, fixed on my face. "Yes." I nod slowly. "Okay. And did you mean to?" "No." I look up at him. "No?" "No." He stated lowly. I clear my throat. "Alright then. Moving on-" "You don't believe me," He observed lowly. His voice shook the cell with a gentle force. "Whether I believe you or not doesn't matter." I explain. He stays quiet for a moment. "I hate liars," He says finally. It sounds like one of the ten commandments, like thunder and lightening should be striking as he speaks. "I will always be honest." I smile, crossing my legs. "Well I appreciate that." He smiles right back. "You don't believe me now, Doctor Brown. But you'll see. I'm someone who will never lie to you." I swallow. "Honesty. It's an admirable quality." He smirks. "I can tell you're used to being lied to. You won't get that bullshit with me." I blink. "Ray, tell me the truth-did you mean to kill May Weather?" "As stupid as her name is, no. I didn't. But I don't particularly care either way. We all die some day, right Doctor?" I squint, trying to figure his face out. Why the hell can't I make out his features? I guess it works both ways. That's how I like it. These are criminals, soon to be released. I feel much safer when they can't make out my face. "You're trying to see me, aren't you? I can see you. My eyes are well adjusted to the dark." I swallow roughly. "Am I scaring you, Doctor? It's not my intention. I just...I'm curious." "About what?" I ask. "About you," He replies lowly. This is....kinda creeping me out. "Ray?" "Yes, Doctor?" His chilling voice settles on my skin. "Tell me what color my shirt is." "It's grey with white stripes." He murmured. "It suits your bust well." I clench my teeth. The bastard can see me. I get up. "Well that will conclude our session-" "Doctor Brown," He husks. "Are you afraid of me?" I look away. "No. I'm not." "Doctor Brown, I hate liars. If you're going to lie to me, don't bother coming back. Because you can't help me." I pause, leaving the cell. I watch it shut, behind me, closing him in once more. He's silent. After five years working as a prison therapist, I'd met the one criminal I was truly afraid of. His name was Ray Powell and he was set to be released in ten days. But he and I were far from over. No. Ray Powell and I were just beginning. And it all went downhill from there.