Chapter 1

ANASTASIA'S POV

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 Korovin. Can you tell me your name?"

He sat back in the chair, as it creaked under his massive stature.

"I'm Niko."

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 Korovin. 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. "Niko, tell me the truth-did you mean to kill Selena?"

"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.

"Niko?"

"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 Korovin," He husks. "Are you afraid of me?"

I look away. "No. I'm not."

"Doctor Korovin, 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 Nikolai and he was set to be released in ten days.

But he and I were far from over.

No. Nikolai and I were just beginning. And it all went downhill from there.

• • •

I find myself anxious to go back to work the next day. I want to know what that man will say.

He doesn't disappoint.

I sit down. It's dark again. Even though he can see me, I want to stay on the safe side.

He says nothing, but I can see his hands are crossed on the table.

"How are you feeling, today Nijo?"

"Most of the staff in here just calls me inmate 2849615. I'm almost not used to someone saying my name."

I smile. "Well, in nine days, you'll be hearing your name again. You should get used to it."

"To hearing my name? Or hearing you say it?”

My smile drops. It's not out of the ordinary for inmates to flirt with me. But somehow, when he does it, it seems...

Different.

It's not lecherous. It's not desperate. It's so casual, like he was hitting on a girl at a bar.

Like he just wants to see how far he can get me to go before he takes me home.

I lick my lip, looking down at my paper. I usually don't have to look down, and I have strain because of the dark.

"So, Niko," I focus on the next question, "How are you feeling about your upcoming release date?"

He shifts. "I prefer prison somewhat. The world is full of unremarkable people, going about their unremarkable lives. I don't find much interest in it.”

I frown, scribbling. "Well, that's a unkind thing to say. Everyone is special. No one is unremarkable."

He snorts. "That is what they say isn't it? But it's not true. See, they say everyone is special. So in the end: no one is. People who truly are special are forced to be ashamed of the talents they have. You're not special they say. You're just like everyone else."

Fascinating. His tone is point blank, with a hint of sarcasm.

"So you believe that only a few people in the world are special?"

He sits back. His eyes stare into mine.

"I think the words speak for themselves. Everyone cannot be special. Special is something out of the ordinary. If being special is ordinary, then you aren't special, are you? Now, everyone is different, that is true.But being different isn't being special."

Interesting. At first it seemed like he was just a pompous ass, who believed only a few could be special, and he was one of them.

"And do you believe you're special?"

He pauses. The air is laden with an answer, but he won't breathe it out. It's like he's holding it.

"I...I think I'm different. Special is supposed to be good, right? That's why everyone want to be it. Yeah. I'm different."

Huh. So he doesn't think he's special. Or, he could be lying.

But no. Somehow, I don't think that's it.

"Niko, what will do when you get out?”

The air chills. "You don't want to know."