Her Client

The room feels colder than the rest of the prison as I pull the chair out to sit in front of my client. As I sit down and open my computer I can feel his strong brown eyes just.... watching me. After several minutes of complete silence and finally letting my computer boot up with all the necessary files I need. I decided to finally break the silence.

"Alright I just need to confirm that your Mr. Markle?" My question is immediately answered with a nod. His long flowing black ravenous hair covers almost all of his face but other than that he looks like a decent man. Could've been anything else but chased this path. Letting my thoughts take over my mind. It really is a shame how these people could throw away their lives.

"Now Mr. Markl-" Suddenly I heard a demanding husky voice take over this room.

"Call me Aiden." He interrupts me requesting such a foolish choice. Obviously even though its usually an okay thing to request. My morals and my rules has always been to be professional always. My teachers at Harvard had a whole slideshow of showing your clients who is the boss. By putting up those boundaries and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the case. Calling by him by his name just feels wrong.

"No, how about I keep calling you Mr. Markle." Giving him no chance to respond I then begin to start continuing talking. "Now that we got that all sorted I will be you defense attorney. I know that your father paid a very hefty price for my firm to be your retainer. So continuing on you may call me Miss Reiner for us to establish trust."

He doesn't say anything more just continues to stare at me. Crossing his arms like a child sitting in timeout. I try and ignore the childish behavior has I reach in my bag to pull out the unique pair of looking scissors. However me doing so I watch his eyeballs get wide with an excitement. Bingo

"Now this case doesn't look good for you and before we can even continue it I believe we need to try and talk about everything that went on that night to try to figure out how to spin this out of your favor" The more I talk the creepier of a feeling I get. Its like the man was dead inside a minute ago but now he looks like a kid getting candy. He even plastered a creepy little smirk that sends a shiver down my spine. "Now... about these scissors."

Grinning he replies "Yes how I miss those old pair. May I see it?"

Feeling no sense of danger when it came to that device I slid it down the shiny gray table for him to touch it. He reaches over and grabs the pair holding it like it meant everything to him. Even though he is wearing handcuffs chained to the interrogation room table he seems so ... happy. Why?

" I want some answers on why those scissors mean so much to you?" I press forward trying to get some better communication from this client. After a few moments of lingering silence I snap my fingers to get his attention again this time a different question.

"Why is it so dull? It can't even be used to cut a piece of paper or better yet leave a scratch mark on a person?" This time my question got through to him has he then puts his finger through the holes of his device.

"Y'know it doesn't even matter if i tell you what this guy does for me." He trails off. "But I will entertain you. This right here is the whole reason I was able to play GOD and play with peoples minds." Chuckling its starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

"Alright Mr. Markle let me see that bac-" But no amount of words was going to prepare me for what happen next. He stood up effortlessly the handcuffs slip off him like it was coated in butter. Laughing at me as I start running to the nearest door. But I felt something like my brain was on fire and then.... everything went dark.