I might be the one to catch criminals and torture them, but I never have to transport them to prisons. That's not my job. The last time I've been in a prison was when I was an inmate myself. Being back in these walls, it makes me feel those old emotions. Ricky and I were at ADX. The last time we were here, I was thinking about how I wanted to murder him, yet missing him all at the same time.

As I passed by the white walls, those former feelings hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't want to be here but we did have a reason. Let's just hope it's not a wasted trip. Incase you're wondering, after all these years, the warden is still the exact same guy. As Ricky and I followed the old man through the prison, Ricky slipped his hand into mine. He could probably read the emotions on my face.

Ricky's becoming more and more in demand because he's been so successful in the last few years. Ryan keeps himself plenty busy with his experiments, Vinny is usually working on some mob related case. Both Josh and Ryan-Ashley and Chris and Angelo keep to themselves pretty much. They take their jobs as they come, but beyond that, try to spend as much time with each other as possible. That leaves just Mike and I to run this whole plan. We're fucking evil but we need more help to make this work right.

That is why we're here. ADX holds the worst criminals in the world. Their inmate roster includes Yousef, the Unabomber, Thomas Silverstein, Richard Reid, and so, so many more. It's mostly terrorists, as you probably noticed. However, there are a few murderers. This is where I was held after Ricky betrayed me, after all. That's the past though; water under the bridge. My point here is that there is a very vicious man being held within these ways and I'm interested in recruiting him.

He has committed multiple mass murders across the country. From the pictures I saw, he looks like he crawled up from the depths of Hell. He'll fit right in. That is if we determine he's trustworthy. He did have an accomplice in his killing sprees that he never turned on. That's a good sign. He has the ability of loyalty.

The warden opened up a door for us that led into a familiar room. Last time I was here, I was the one in the jumpsuit and Ricky had come to talk me into helping him with a zombie problem. It's weird to be on the other side of this. The gentleman we were here to see was already cuffed down to a chair. He kept his head down, allowing his long and thin black hair to block most his face. Two guards loomed over him. Warden Berg handed Ricky a file. He opened it up and tilted it my way so I could see.

"Brian Hugh Warner. 47. After wrongly being accused of being involved in the Columbine shooting, he quote "wanted to show people he's not that sloppy of a murderer". In the last nineteen years he's been suspecting of being involved in over two hundred open cases. No charges would stick though, until he publicly slit the throat of a Politian on national television." Ricky said. He threw the folder down on the steel table.

"Your rap sheet is impressive, Mr. Warner." I commented as I looked to where it rested open. He simply looked away from me, as if I was an ignorant annoyance to him. I leaned over and ran my finger across lines of text on the papers as I read. Then I glanced back up at him, "Would you prefer if I called you Manson?"

That caught his attention. He actually looked at me for a moment. "You prefer to be called Ghost over Devin, don't you?" He asked me.

I stood up straight slowly and held back a grin. "You know who I am?"

"I know you're supposed to be in cell 136 but you aren't." Manson leaned forward on the table and seethed, "And you haven't been for a very long time, have you?"

I looked back at Ricky. He narrowed his eyes, keeping his arms crossed over his chest. Ricky addressed the guards, "Give us a moment alone." They were hesitant, but followed orders. Once they were gone, he continued, "I'm aware you are a very intelligent being. How many people get away with two hundred crimes? Most of them were very thought out too. The majority of the people you killed, they deserved it."

"The fact that you killed that Politician in public, you were being a martyr." I said, "You and I have a lot in common. The rest of the world sees us as a virus, but we're actually the vaccine."

He sighed as he looked up at me, "What is it that you want from me?"

"You mentioned that Ghost hasn't been in his cell for a long time and you're right. Neither have a lot of prisoners here. That's because about two, almost three years ago, I started a suicide squad. A group of infamous murderers get to live pretty well on a government base and in exchange they kill and torture people for us."

"I've seen your work. You're incredible. We could really use a man like you." I added.

He narrowed his eyes, "You want me to join your little social experiment?"

"Not much of a social experiment if no one knows about it. We get to kill all we want. We're just slitting the throats of people that deserve it." I replied.

Manson lowered his head. His hands, of which were fastened down, tightened around the edges of the arms of the chair. "You called me a martyr, like I'm some fucking hero. That's what you want to make me? A hero? I'm not a fucking hero. Don't expect me to make any morally sound decisions, but I'll do it if it gets me out of that room."

Ricky walked over to him and started to undo his restraints. "We'll have any of your personal items sent to the base. Is there anything we can get for you? Clothes, cars, makeup, guns?"

His hair hung in his face again. He stared off at the ground. "Anything?" He muttered.

"Anything," Ricky repeated. "I mean, I even gave Ghost a cat when he moved in."

"My old accomplice is being held in Terre Haute. You think you have a little more room on your suicide squad for him?" Manson asked.

"We should." He replied, "I'll have to do a little talking with my bosses."

Something struck me as off about the way Manson acted about it. The look on his face when talking about this accomplice, it's not the type of look you get when referring to a friend. It was reminiscent, like thinking about the one that got away. Mike gets that expression when he looks at me sometimes. There's no love lost between us. We're both very happy with who we're with.

Ricky led Manson out and I followed from behind. He spoke to Warden Berg for a moment before we continued out to a security check point. From there, it was a long drive back to Tennessee. We thought it was safer to travel over road as apposed to air. It was nice inside of out transport vehicle. Almost like a mix between a convoy and a limo. I gave Manson some clothes to change into since he was probably sick of the jumper. Then I pulled a curtain between him and us.

He could use the privacy, and so could we...

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A/N: Since I'm all about that aesthetic, we're going to pretend Manson still looks as good as he did back in the late 90s. Also, I have a new story up on scrantondailkittens called "The Devil's Men". It's a Sitkolson/Angeless Supernature AU! Also a collab with the lovely dxvilsnight <3 Please go spam it with comments and votes so we know if you like it!