Chapter Six: The Interview

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Thank God I'm Not You - Himalayas

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Against my better judgement, I found myself outside of James' room once again. In the last two days since I'd banished him, he hadn't appeared to me in the hallways, or anywhere for that matter. I knew he was still here, of course, just respecting my wishes by leaving me alone like I'd asked.

I knocked on the door, cursing myself for even being here. Part of me already regretted this. I knew the smart thing to do was stay away from him, but I couldn't stop thinking about what kinds of horrible secrets were hidden in his mind. He was undoubtedly a monster, but one I wanted to dissect. 

There was no answer, no noise from inside. I knocked again, still there was no response.

I tried the handle, and surprisingly it was open. I let myself in; the room was dark. Nobody home. The only light came from the window, where tiny slivers of light made their way in through the drawn curtains.

"James?" I called out. "I know I told you to leave me alone, but I need something from you." I was talking to a dark, empty, room, but I had the strange sense that he was listening. "Please?" Reluctantly I added the last word.

"You need something from me?" he asked, and I jumped, turning around. James stood, watching me curiously with a pipe in his mouth. The smoke clouded around him, his strong frame still visible through the white button-up and suspenders he wore. 

I looked at him, annoyed; he was so dramatic for no reason. How hard would it have been for him to open the door for me like a normal person? Instead he made me beg for his presence. "Yes, but don't get excited."

"Have you had a change of heart since our last... encounter?"

"Not in the slightest," I said.

"Forgive me, darling, but I'm a bit confused," he said. "You say you're still upset with me over my little hobby, but you do want to talk after all?" He sat down on the green couch, motioning for me to join him and pulling the string on the lamp next to it. It gave off a light glow, allowing me to see him better but still keeping the atmosphere uneasy.

"Yes to both. Originally I didn't want to talk to you ever again, and I'm still disgusted by what you did. But I think you can offer me certain things." I sat down on the couch, keeping a good distance between us. 

"What sort of things?" he asked, blowing out more smoke. 

"I've always loved the genre of true crime," I said, choosing my words carefully. "And I realized that I have a real-life specimen right here: you. I want to talk to you. Not to get to know you, or to be lovers, or friends. I have decided that from here on out I won't talk to you unless it can benefit me directly. And you can do that by talking to me about your motivations, your methodology, what made you a killer. I think you hold some valuable information."

"Ambitious," he said, furrowing his brow. "I will admit, I enjoy your company, so I am not opposed to this. I do wish you would reconsider rekindling our courtship, but I respect that this may not be the time."

"No, it definitely is not the time," I glowered at him, showing him that I was serious.

"Very well. What would you like to know?"

I took a deep breath, thinking back to the night I had caught him red-handed. "When you killed that man, and I walked in on you, you acted totally normal. As if you were just eating dinner or something. My first question: are you just used to people from the hotel walking in on you so you aren't phased by interruptions, or do you genuinely feel no remorse?"

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