Project V (Clementine X Male Reader Book 4)

Breakout

The detective has returned not even a minute after the president has gone. You doubt he was able to listen in. If she didn't want anyone to, she would have had guards set up on the door to your room and the space on the other side of the glass. He has no clue that you're about to unlock your cuffs and pounce on him the second you get the chance.

Detective: Guess you know each other from work or something.

You: Something like that.

You feel around for the keyhole. It only takes a moment for you to find it.

Detective: Now, where were we?

He sits in his chair across from you, where the president sat moments ago.

Detective: Did she come to wish you a good sentencing?

You: Basically.

Detective: Has Brooklyn ever done anything like this?

You: Huh?

Detective: Brooklyn, your fiancé. Has she ever done anything like this? From the look of the cameras, she wasn't even slightly shocked by it. She took it a lot better than someone who's never seen someone be killed would.

You: Last time I checked, she's not a part of this.

Detective: She is. Especially if this was premeditated and she was involved.

You: Premeditated.

Detective: Yes.

You: Did you look at your footage?

Detective: Yes.

You: He dropped a plate, that loud noise triggered me; I thought he had a weapon, so I charged him without thinking about anything else. I thought he had a gun.

Detective: Hm. PTSD huh?

He looks through the file in front of him.

Detective: I don't see anything about that in here.

He thinks you're just trying to get out of this. Keep going. Make him believe there's nothing left to get from you.

You: Yep. I was stuck in a simulation of the apocalypse and post-apocalypse for a few years. It was actually thirty years in there. It wasn't fun; it messed me up. So no, I've never really killed anyone. But in there, I've killed thousands.

Detective: So you have killed?

You: Not a real person.

He squints and leans back in his chair very casually.

Detective: You're not going to talk to me.

You: Nah, I don't really feel like telling you anything. I only told you the entire truth.

Detective: You will be locked up, you know that, right?

You: I won't.

Detective: You will be put on trial and convicted. Sent to prison to rot for the rest of your life. You might as well tell me everything, tough guy. There is no way out of this.

He leans forward and attempts to stare into your soul. You lean forward and stare right back.

You: Oh, intimidation. What did I say? You'd have to do worse than beating me, bleeding me, burning me, stabbing me, cutting me, shooting me, everything you could think of. Is this your idea of worse?

Detective: Apocalypse. What was it like?

You: No way that someone should have to live. It was death.