Hello world!

My pen name is L.D. Raye, and I’ve had a love for writing since elementary school. I began my first story at the age of nine, Killer in the Cabin. Strange genre for a nine year old may be, but my mind has never fancied the norm. My writing style I like to believe is unique and refreshing. I consider myself to write “urban” novels, but they are neither “hood” nor “ghetto” tales. While that is the genre I generally find myself writing, I have branched off into thrillers and suspense as well as back to horror.

Another genre I find myself involving myself in is fan fiction. I am a true Trey Songz fan, been one since the beginning. On this site there will be fan fiction stories that depict Trey Songz as the main character. I must say, he is merely used as a face claim in my stories.

That being said . . . .


Hell’s Prison 2

I sat at the small metal table set up just for me and stared at her. Her face was paler then what I remembered and her eyes were much darker. I knew her personality, however, couldn’t have gotten any colder. She was a bitter women from the first day she forced me in this room. That day was the first day she’d ever fallen short of words, but it wasn’t her last. For months we sat together in this room, and even to this day she’s never been able to get more from me than I was willing to give. I, however, received most of what I desired from her, and soon she’d complete my list of demands from her.

Today however, only God knew how many minutes had passed with the both of us just staring at each other. Her brown eyes falsely showed strength, and her rosy cheekbones turned a darker hue due to my unwavering peer. She would always try her best to intimidate me and make me feel as if she was in control. If only she knew how quickly she was proving to be the scared little bitch I’d already called her out for.

“Vaughan, I’m only here to help you. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Why do you have me tied up this time, Gloria?” I smiled at her, delighted that I’d already made her squirm in her leather seat. She sat a good five feet away from my small table, and I was not naive on the reason for her distance from me.

“You tell me,” she said with tight lips and snatching her glasses off.

“This shit is your expertise, Gloria.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Dr. Royce? You may not call me Gloria. Is that clear?”

“I thought about you a lot last week. You know that question you asked me last time I was here, ‘[i]What turned you into this monster?[/i]’ That question really got to me.”

“Well have you come up with an answer?” She wrote something down on her notepad and cleared her throat. Her rigidness had yet to leave, and I knew the cause of it.

It was all too easy to control her. Merely sitting here, watching her and speaking lowly and calmly always brought her entire state of mind to where I wanted it to be. She knew the power I had over her. She proved it in every one of her actions. I enjoyed putting her in her place, and rather she’d even admit it or not, I knew she wanted every bit of it.

“Even better,” I finally teased. She took in a quick breath, and I licked my lips, imagining how it would feel to watch her draw her last breath. I pushed that fantasy to the back of my mind, however, to concentrate on the topic at hand.  “I came up with my own question.” I held my thoughts and words to myself for minutes, letting her inquisitiveness eat away at her. I knew she’d wait for me to speak. I’d already trained her on how to behave when we were together. “How bad of a monster do you believe I am?”

Seconds ticked by before she felt comfortable enough to respond. “Vaughan?” I heard the exhaust in her tone, but she had not yet  been taught her lesson for today’s meeting.

“The things you’ve learned I’ve done to people,” I paused to give her a minute to remind herself of every gruesome detail that had ever been reported about me, “that makes you label me a monster. Am I correct?”

Her hand shook as she grabbed at the lapel of her cream colored blouse. Quickly she place her hand on her notepad, but I’d already picked up on her emotional state. “[i]I[/i],” she tried to emphasize, “have never personally labeled you a monster. Regardless, this has nothing to do with what I think of you.”

“Gloria, that’s a lie,” I sweetly told her. I knew my moments of silence between my words battered her mental state, and I loved it. I could feel her heartbeat stutter, and I chuckled because of it. “That’s a lie.” She tried to speak, but a mere squint in my eyes stilled her every moment. Her eyes locked with mine briefly before she cleared her throat and checked her watch. “Why am I tied up today?”

I licked my lips. My attention was now affixed on her knit brow, an expression she shows when she was attempting to ward off nerves. I caught on to just how shallow her breaths were becoming. Her fingers wrapped around her pen tighter. Her legs were antsy, evident in her inability to let them rest. I knew it was for fear of them not being able to rush her to safety if need be. Her lips pursed together, and her eyes blinked in an abnormal pattern. I terrified her to silence at the moment.

“This was your idea, wasn’t it?” I lifted my arms as much as I could from the table in front of me. The chains clanked against each other, and the restraint attachment that was fastened to table held me in place. I looked at it a second before returning my full attention to my prey. “If you didn’t think I was a monster–if things had nothing to do with what you thought of me, I wouldn’t be in here in the first place. And I wouldn’t be chained right now!” I yanked my arms, causing a tremendous bang to ricochet off the walls.

She cringed, and my smile returned to my face. Many more moments slipped away as she pretended to write things of interest on her notepad. I let her have her time as I rested my eyes. I let myself get caught up in the fantasy of her breathing. I could hear her breaths over everything now. At first she was calm. Her breathing was eloquent, but it soon turned into a beautiful melody: quick and pained, shallow and hard, faint and dying.

“Have I told you how much I dream about you, Gloria?” I asked with my eyes still closed. I could see her even without looking at her, but when she took too long to respond, my eyes finally opened again.

“It’s Dr. Royce, Vaughan,” she said, grit trying to leak from her tone.

My eyes were locked with hers now. She tried to hold her ground, and she did for longer than I was use to, but she looked away for a second. No matter how hard or how many times she tried, she could not face me.

“I had a dream about you last week.” I smiled at her, and again she dropped her head. She thought quick breaks in our connection would keep me from reading her. “I wanted to tell you about it, but you refused to see me.” I leaned forward, and I took notice of her repositioning her legs. “Why refuse to see me?” I asked with a bit of amusement in my voice.

“You refused to speak on the things that we need to focus on. I’m not going to waste my time with you. I [i]refuse[/i] to.”

I watched her. Her nerve was putting a bad taste in my mouth. To hear her actually say what she refused from me was not anything that would work in her favor when the time came. “Just what is it you want to talk about?” I asked with burning eyes. “How about we talk about what it is you people are doing to me in here?” I felt my temper boiling, and her reaction showed she felt it too.

She readjusted herself in her seat and she glanced at the door behind me. “We’re only trying to help you. You were placed here to be helped.”

“You call this help, Gloria?”

“Dr. Royce!” she yelled with her emotions spilling out everywhere. This time there was no smile for her as she attempted to regain her composer. “For the last time, it’s Dr. Royce.”

“Dr. . . . How do you suppose you’re trying to help me?”

“Answer me why you killed her?” she asked, defiantly. “That’s how I can help you.”

Red fell over my eyes, and nothing but her beating heart slowly drumming its last rhythm filled my ears. “I’m not going to talk about that. Do you understand me?” I carefully asked her.

“You need to talk about this,” she responded, but her confidence was gone. Her eyes searched for a focal point as she rambled on. “You have to talk about this. It’s part of your sentencing, and it’s what’s going to help you.”

I slammed my hands down on the desk and yelled, “I’ve already said everything I’ll ever say on the subject!”

“What about her sister?” Her toned continued to give away her uneasiness, and now she wouldn’t even look at me. “You haven’t expressed much about–”

“She!” I yelled and foolishly tried to jump up, only to be yanked back down by my restraints. “She is dead! They’re all dead! What is there to talk about! Why do I need to talk about it!”

“Vaughan, I would like for you to calm down now.” She tried her hardest to sound calm and in control, but terror was all over her face. Her hands shook, and her eyes pleaded for an escape. “You will never make progress this way. You have to talk to me about it.”

“Why?” I challenged her, but she didn’t respond. I thought on a possible answer, and one very clear idea came to mind. “You want to know about, don’t you? You want to know every little detail.”

“It’s my job to listen, regardless of what comes from my client’s mouth. Rather I want to hear it doesn’t–”

“It excites you?” I finally found a reason to smile at her again. “Knowing what I did to them–having me explain what I felt while it happened, it gets you off, doesn’t?”

“No, Vaughan. It doesn’t.”

I laughed now. “It’s okay, Gloria. It’s o–”

“Who’s Jose?”

Her question was enough to halt my actions and quickly change my mood. My breathing was even, but my mind raced to the bastard who should have been buried. “Do not speak his name to me,” I warned her.

She inhaled deeply and readjusted her position again. “Who is Jose, Vaughan?” I wouldn’t answer her, and she took a glance at her notepad. “The orderlies mentioned his name coming from you last night.”

She ignored my warning. She deliberately defied me, and now she had to pay.

Silence engulf the room as my eyes burned through the layers of her wall she’d tried to hold up. She waited. She kept her silence, perhaps trying to prepare herself for what was soon to happen, but she would fail.

“Gloria, how’s your husband?” I questioned, and after a shocking moment, her eyes trembled as her mind frantically tried to force her to remain unpenetrable.

“He is not our topic right now.” Her voice shook, and her timer ticked away. “We’re–”

“He doesn’t like me much, does he?” I continued, waiting to mentally cut her as deep as possible. “Is he still trying to get you to drop my case?” Her left eye blinked on reaction. I’m positive a tear had been trying to form. “Does he hate the fact that I invade your entire existence more than he does?”

She took a breath, ignorantly thinking it would succor her. “That most certainly is not true.”

“How much control does your husband have over you?”

“He doesn’t have any control over me.” Anger coated her tongue, but mental chaos blazed in her eyes.

I gave her silence again. I let her mind work because I knew it worked on me. She wanted to figure out what I’d say next–what I’d do next. She was becoming consumed with everything about me. Her eyes were now able to focus on me. They studied me with a fire behind them. They had to search me so her mind could put meaning to my entire essences. I possessed her now, and I smiled at her acknowledgement of her husband having no control over her.

Delectation bubbled inside of me as I finally said to her, “But I do.”


“Your entire life has changed since the first day you met me, Gloria.”

“You have no–”

“You haven’t even fucked your husband in five months.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship with my husband.” She moved close to the edge of her seat. Her voice dripping with bemusement. Despite the fact that she sat here to reconstruct my sanity, she’d manage to let her’s slip further away. Pitifully, she couldn’t even help herself.

I only smirked as she clenched her teeth. “How long has it been, Gloria?”

“None of your damn business,” she seethed.

“The miscarriage killed the romance, Gloria.” Glee radiated throughout my tone.

She trembled, her finger pathetically trying to focus on me. “You,” she panted out, clearly trying to hold back tears, “shut up,” still she struggled to get her words out, pausing and praying she didn’t break down in front of me, “right now.”

“I killed your baby, Gloria.”

“Vaughan,” she gagged out with a few tears streaming down her face.

“I killed your little boy.”

“He died due to a strained heart,” she tried to fuss and convince herself of that lie.

“Your husband told you to drop my case because he knew I could control your entire mind.”

“You can’t!” She jumped up, and I smiled at the passion in her eyes. She was fighting hard to keep from breaking down.

“You knew what I did to you, and you wanted me to do it.” She tried to speak, but I bet her to it. “You wanted his son out of you.”

“Don’t you dare!” she screeched, walking up to my table and throwing her notepad and pen on it.

“The doctors told you not to do anything that would cause stress for you or the baby.” She shook her head at me and slowly backed up. “You told me that for a reason, Gloria.” Her mouth moved, but no sound came from her. “You wanted me to kill your little boy,” I whispered to her.

“Not I didn’t!”

“Your husband begged you to leave me, but you couldn’t, Gloria,” I raised my voice to her, enjoying the anguish spreading from her mind down to her soul. “I wouldn’t let you, but you let me do whatever the fuck I wanted to do to you!” I laughed.

“I tried to help you.” Her voice shook as the pain began to really settle in.

“You wanted your son dead, Gloria!” I told her in sing-song fashion.

“I wanted to help you!”

“Your husband hates you as much as he hates me, doesn’t he?” I smiled at her.

She ripped her briefcase from the floor and marched over to slap me. I only smiled at her. “You will rot in hell for everything you’ve ever done!”

“Gloria, this never would have happened had you obeyed,” I explained to her as she left.

I let out a satisfied laugh as I heard the buzzing of doors and her heels leading her away. Moments later the guards removed me from the room and led me back to my dungeon of demons. A smile came to my face as I wondered just how long Gloria would make me wait to see her again. I promised myself I’d bring her more pain if she ever tried to make me confess to killing the love of my life again. Her true killer was able to still walk free because I was forced to deal with his crime. But he would soon pay. He would pay. Jose would pay, and so would everybody else who works to keep me caged in this hell.

Hell’s Prison 1

I sat on my tiny cot, listening to the night orderlies chatter outside of my room. They joked about each others’ wives and questioned paternity of their own children. They talked about past sport games, and smacked on food that the state promised me I’d never taste again.

Hell, if the state could have truly had its way, I would have been injected and in the ground by now. As soon as my case came up, it seemed as if the entire government body was doing everything it could to make sure a trial would end with me receiving the death penalty. Unfortunately for them, my punk ass lawyer forced me to plead guilty by reason of insanity before things could even get that far. The D.A. wanted my head, and I was sure he was going to get. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why he even accepted the plea deal. Confusion over how I managed to end up here was just the beginning, though. Tittering between wanting my life and wishing the D.A. had his way in the first place had become a routine of mine.

Being locked away in this place was the last thing any sane person could want. Countless days and nights, I wondered why I even let this happen. In reality, there wasn’t anything I could have done to shift the outcome to satisfy me. I didn’t even get a say in anything “[i]my[/i]” lawyer decided to do because he wasn’t really my lawyer. He was merely a goon for Randolph, the carcass walking around who was soon to pay up a debt he was probably too arrogant to realize he owed me.

“Aye, Vaughan,” one of the guards sluggishly called me. I ignored him, still wringing my scared hands and focusing on the floor. “Vaughan!” I slowly lifted my eyes to the glass slot that was partially showing his face. “It’s bedtime. Lay your ass down, you fucking animal. You don’t want me to come in there and show you how we deal with filth like you.”

I just eyed him, hoping he’d open the door just an inch. He had no idea what I was capable of. What they had me locked up for was nothing compared to what I planned on doing once I finally escaped.

“Joe, come back over here,” the smarter and obviously weaker guard warned. His tone was his tale. Regardless of his visible physical fitness, his tone was all the evidence I needed to know he could be easily broken.

“Where I come from, you damn sure wouldn’t end up in a cushy room. We wouldn’t even allow you inside a jail cell.” I still said nothing, only studied him. I wanted to remember his pale blue eyes. I assured myself the look in them would change from insolence to terror before I was out of here. “Lay the fuck down!” He beat on the door with his over weight arm, and the smart one ran over to him.

“Leave him alone, Joe.” He had a look of caution on his face, and unlike Joe, he wouldn’t dare look me in the eyes. “We’re out of here in a few hours. Why should we care if he gets a good night’s rest?”

“That’s right, Vaughan. We’re going home tonight. . . . some place you’ll never see again. You think calling yourself insane saved you, you piece of shit?” He hit the door once again. “Enjoy your stay, mother fucker! I hope she was worth it,” he whispered loud enough to vibrate off my bones.

My body tensed on reaction, and I tried to keep myself under control. The last thing I needed was another night incident added to my report. Each incident before had sent me spiraling up the walls and landed me in shambles. Days after I’d “[i]have an episode[/i]”, I’d be back in this room, drugged and begging for my blood to spill out of my veins. Everything about it would always be so cloudy to me. I never had an answer for why it happened. I wouldn’t be able to fully recall my incident. I would only know that they had done something to me and blamed me for my reaction. They’d justify me waking up in one of their hell contraptions and demand pointless sessions that would try to twist my mind and words.

Feeling my mental walls crumble, I jumped up and started to pace. My shoulders began to throb, so I rotated them and only succeeded in giving my muscles a tease. They wanted to work, and walking was not the job they ached for. I felt them growing in agitation, and soon they began to spasm once my pace slowed. Moving around this small room was doing nothing but making me worse. I needed blood on my hands.

I shook my head, a feeble attempt to calm my now racing heart and mind. I stood completely still, closing my eyes and rolling my neck causing my joints to pop. My muscles still ached to release their heat and rage. My ears began to ring, and I could feel my temperature rising. I clenched my fist as my chest blazed with destruction.

Slowly my eyes opened, and my body was now completely locked. My vision blurred, and before long, everything in the room was gone. I was left alone with the black evil of my heart. Each breath I drew in effected to heighten each of my senses. Systematically, the scene came into view. I could see myself standing over all three of their bodies. I could hear Jose begging for his life. I could smell the blench used to hide the evidence of the other bodies. I could feel the sheer rage building in me once again. I was back to that night. My room was no longer caging me. I again had a chance to personally finish them all.

Jose would be first this time, I promised. He deserved it most of all. Rachael and Ryan would be dealt with for simply being spineless idiots. I walked up to his beating body laying face down, snatching his ponytail to make him face me then punishing any part of his body my fist or foot could connect with. He screamed, squirmed, and pleaded for mercy until his brain was too damaged. Still, his body wasn’t lifeless. I stomped on his stomach as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I wanted to crush every bit of breath out of his lungs.

Before I could end him, however, I felt myself being tackled to the floor. I heard a voice in my ear promising to teach me a lesson, but there was no one around me. Trying to move was useless. My body felt so weighed down, and Jose laid next to me still living. Slowly his eyes opened and his disgusting smirk appeared on his face.

“I’ll kill you!” I screeched out, still trying to get to him. He had to die. “Jose, you’re dead!”

I used every ounce of energy I had and brought myself to my feet. Inches from Jose’s face however, out of nowhere, a hard object connected with my jaw. I staggered back but went for him again. This time the elusive object landed on my back. Then again it came to my rib cage, but I was not about to let Jose escape this time.

“I’m going to kill you!”

I was on the ground again before I could take a step. More weight was thrown on my body and a pinch in my arm began to ricochet through my body. I had no choice but to lay numb and watch Jose climb to his feet and walk away from me. He was escaping.

“No.” I tried to yell after him, but my voice was becoming weak. “No.” I reached for him, but everything once again faded to black.