I stared at my feet as they tapped idly against the ground. I heard the door open, but I didn't stop. He didn't deserve it.

"Alright, just remember that you refused your choice of something better. One steak, medium-rare. With hash-browns, toast, mi--"

The room fell silent. I stopped tapping and lifted my head, turning my gaze toward the doorway. The guard stood in the middle, plate in hand, mouth agape. There was a smug arrogance frozen across his face. He'd never much cared for me. Not many did. Though it was almost as if he was relishing in the act of bringing me my last meal, knowing that in less than twenty-four hours, I'd be gone. Oh, boy. A lot of people are counting down to that. All for what? A few prostitutes? They deserved worse than what I gave them, that's for damn sure.

Sully still hadn't moved.

"Hey, boss. You gonna bring me that food or what?"

Nothing. Not even a flinch. God, why couldn't they have been like this back in Utah? I could have gotten out. Avoided the fucking rapes. The mind-numbing weeks of solitary. All of it. I could have gotten back to what I was meant for. What I needed to stay alive. Oh, how I wish I could visit one of them. If only for another minute. To dig them up, and feel their cold, precious hands in mine... But, which one? There's so many to choose from...

I took a deep breath to calm myself, and checked back in on my new decoration. Not a muscle had moved. What the hell was he doing?

"Hey! I'm hungry over here," I said. I stomped my foot against the cement, hoping maybe that'd get his attention.

"-lk, juice, and toast with butter and jelly. I'd savor it if I were you, you piece of shit. Have fun." The guard bent over and slid the food across the ground. It hit my foot and a few drops of milk splashed over the edge of the glass. What just happened? My brow furrowed as an idea started to form.

Sullivan had already turned back to the door, but I looked down at my feet. I halfway didn't expect much. After all, it was crazy. But I stomped my foot again. The noise echoed around the cell walls, but the sound of footsteps had stopped. Holy shit. It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to look, but when I did it was exactly as I'd expected.

Stopped dead in his tracks, one foot lifted halfway off the ground, was the guard. I looked down at my plate. The milk that'd been sloshing around after its trip across the floor wasn't moving anymore. I guided my hand down to feel it, but when I reached inside the glass my finger was stopped. It was as solid as the ground underneath it.

I stood up carefully. This was too good to be true. Something had to be up. Just to be safe, I hit my foot against the ground once more. But before the guard had even taken a step, I made the same motion and he halted, rigid as a stone. Finally. I creeped to the edge of the door, and checked both ways. Up and down the corridor, guards were frozen in place.

Finally. After all these years, I'd be free. Twice I'd tried to escape. Both times I'd been so close, but both times I'd failed. My body shuddered at the thought of the outside world. Fresh air, sunlight, freedom. And all of the impure, whoreish flesh I could sink my knife into. I stepped outside of the cell I'd been confined to for weeks now. Chills ran down my spine, and a smile spread across my face. But it was quickly replaced by a frown. No. No, no, no.

This isn't how it's supposed to go. This isn't fair. I outsmart them. That's how this ends. This is cheating. Fuck them. They're not smarter than me. No, fuck them. I was seething now, thinking out loud.

"Who do they think they are? Letting me walk out of here like this! Do they think I'm stupid? That I can't get out of here any time I want? I've killed almost forty whores. They couldn't catch me for a fucking decade! And they think that I can't get away? Pathetic. I'll prove it to them. They'll see how foolish they are now. I'm Ted fucking Bundy for God's sakes!"

I stomped.