The Interview - TWP prompt

Eve took a deep breath before entering the interview room. She gripped tight to her notepad, clamped a hand to the strap of the bag hanging on her shoulder; anything to hide the shakes. She was well aware that this was her big break, the interview which would splash her across every national, maybe international, paper. Perhaps even TV. She still wasn't sure she could do it. The world and his wife had heard of the man beyond that plain steel door. He was the stuff of nightmares and he loved young blondes.

Wondering if that was why her boss had chosen her, nervously shoving a stray blonde lock back into the tight, unflattering bun at the nape of her neck, Eve nodded to the armed guard. He swiped the lock with a key chained to his wrist and gestured for her to enter. She stepped across the threshold, her mouth suddenly dry, her eyes darting to the identical door on the opposite side of the room. Her footfalls echoed, too loud, in the bare room. Steel walls, matt grey, steel floor to match.

She glanced up as she approached the table, which was bolted to the floor, the chairs too, noting the glass roof, the snipers clearly visible, guns aimed through small portholes... trained on the table she was about to sit at. She fell into the chair, covering her sudden increased fear by fiddling with her voice recorder, setting the mic in the centre of the table. It was probably a good thing that she couldn't see herself as the rear door opened and three men entered; she looked like a rabbit in the headlights.

Bryce Ulric, commonly known as The Wolf. Wrapped in chains, under armed guard, barely able to shuffle to the chair across from her, he was still the most handsome man she had ever seen, and the situation in no way dimmed his allure. Well over six feet tall, muscular, and with eyes that were almost emerald green, he was beyond striking and into the realms of 'stop your heart soon as look at him'. But it was his hair, his infamous mane, which drew and held the attention. He flicked the thick silver curls over his shoulder as he settled into his seat, and they both knew what effect he was having on her.

Eve looked away, shuffled papers and than looked at one of the guards who stood at Bryce's side, gun at the ready.

“Are the chains really necessary? You have snipers on the roof, armed guards at his side, and I'm sure there are other precautions I don't even know about. He'd be dead before he got out of his seat. The interview might be a few hours; can't the chains be removed?”

There was a great deal of looking from one guard to another and then the first man walked away a little, muttering into his microphone, listening to the piece in his ear. She noted Bryce's wide grin, got an uncomfortable flash image of a dog-like panting to go with it, and looked down.

Someone higher up had given the word, the chains removed with clear reluctance, the guards clearly unhappy, flinching as Bryce stretched out his arms. Eve noticed the length of his nails, tried not to think of them as claws, and he caught her glance.

“They cut them every morning. Do you believe they grow back overnight?”

It was a rumour she'd heard, but she wasn't going to get drawn into his games.

“Are you happy to begin the interview?” she asked, suddenly glad that the guards had chained his ankles to the securely bolted chair as Bryce stretched the length of his body, rolling his neck and stabbing her with his gaze.

“Sure.”

A lazy drawl, deep and sensual. She ignored the primal urge in her body and switched on the mic.

The silence became uncomfortable, Bryce loosing a low chuckle that had her blood pounding.

“Dunno where to begin, Evie?”

She didn't. Faced with the man who had been convicted of kidnapping and eating twenty four women of her age, all blondes, her mind had gone blank.

“Let me get ya started, huh?” Bryce leaned forward, placed both hands – so big, so cruel, and yet covered with a down of hair that she longed to touch - on the table, “Why? It's the question everyone wants to ask.”

“Yes, why not?” Eve tried to get back some control, “Why exactly did you kill those women? Why eat them? Why haven't you told anyone before?”

“Found ya voice, pretty lady? Ok, one at a time. Why'd I kill 'em? Because that's what you do when you hunt.”

“You considered those women to be prey animals?”

“Yep. Young, weak, but tender, ripe for the eating.”

He grinned, licked his lips and she was sure he was reliving his kills, his meals after. She couldn't help the shiver which coursed her spine. He leaned closer, the guards reaching for him, but he only whispered;

“Wondering what it feels like to be hunted down by an alpha male? What it's like to be caught, bound, helpless and ready to do anything to make it stop?”

As soon as he said it, the images, the urges, were in her head, behind her eyes. It was all too easy to imagine how he had charmed those women, ensnared them with his looks, his sensuality.

“But you never raped them, no sexual motives...?”

“That what they told you? That what the police told the people out there, cowering under their covers because the bogeyman was in their midst? Don't believe everything you hear, Evie.”

She wished he would stop using the pet name, one her boyfriend used. It felt horribly, attractively intimate.

“So you did rape them?”

Maybe she had a new line, something none of the others knew.

“Nope.”

“I'm confused...?”

“You weren't listening, little Evie. I told ya, them girls would do anything, offer anything in exchange for their lives.”

“They had sex with you, willingly?”

She didn't want to believe it, but with those shining green eyes on hers, the powerful scent of him in her nose, she knew he was telling the simple truth, his brief nod causing silver curls to fall about his face, distracting her.

“Gonna ask about the eating? Can ya face it, pretty little Evie?”

One of the guards spoke sharply, reminded Bryce to watch his manners. Bryce merely howled laughter.

“Aren't you scared of them?” They have all kinds of weapons trained on you. They know how powerful you are.” Eve asked, eager to get some unrehearsed answer from him

Bryce had killed three guards and one court reporter since his arrest, easily using his chains and shackles as weapons, He'd simply leaned forward and bitten the throat out of the reporter who got foolishly close.

“Let them have their moment, Evie. They'll see.”

“And what does that mean?”

Bryce shrugged, fell silent and Eve struggled on.

“Why did you choose to eat the women? From what you just told me, they gave you everything. Why kill them, eat them?”

“I'm always hungry after sex.”

He winked lasciviously and Eve tried to ignore the shriek of need from her lower regions, hammering her brain into concentration.

“Seriously, Mr Ulric...” - 'Bryce, please' – “Bryce, what drove you to eat your victims?”

“I am deadly serious, Eve. Do you have any idea what it is like to want something so badly every part of your body aches with need? Do you know what it is like to hunger after something to the point of madness?”

Eve had no intention of answering, but the longer she remained in his presence the more she could understand that desire.

“I think you do, sexy little Evie, I think you do.” He smiled, a slow lifting of his lips which revealed teeth just a little too long, a little too sharp, “That's why. I'm a wolf. I gotta hunt, and I eat what I hunt like a good little wolfie.”

“You truly believe you are a wolf?”

“Oh I know what all them doctors and shrinks will tell you, my Evie, but don't you listen. I am a wolf. Maybe I should prove it to you?”

It was a clear challenge and too easy for her to let slide.

“Maybe you should...”

What happened next took both seconds and hours. Bryce tensed, flexed, there was a rending metal screech and he was on his feet. A guard grabbed Eve, flung her behind him against the wall. Guns were hammering shots which caused deafening reverberation in the room. Eve fought to see, saw a blur of silver muscle and flashing white teeth. There was a scream, a wet ripping sound and a momentary pause as the remaining guards stared at their fallen colleague. Bryce leapt, hit the glass ceiling, punched through it with inhuman strength. He grabbed the two snipers, crashed their heads together, dropped them and looked back over his shoulder before disappearing into the night.

“See you soon, pretty little Evie.”

When the chaos had calmed, the statements been taken, the bodies removed, Eve packed up and prepared to go home, drained, tearful, shivering cold, in shock. She headed for her car, turning up the hood of her cherry red coat...