MADMAN'S ARMS

27

Right in front of the known murderer I had just kissed, I stood and inspected him with big wide eyes.

The both of us stayed completely silent for so long, not knowing what to say or do. We were both shocked, and unexpectedly shy in front of each other after what just happened.

Against my will, I took a quick step back from his embracing aura as my mind suddenly got back to presence.

"That can not happen again," I stated quietly and determinately, hoping for comprehension.

Even though I enjoyed the kiss more than I ever had with any other man, it was something strictly forbidden. I couldn't do such things with a convicted killer, not least with a patient of my own.

He was mentally sick, and if I wouldn't have been a professional myself, I would have believed I was as well after such an action of stupidity.

Brandon's eyes turned from big bright brown to stiff dark, and my stomach turned along with the emerging fright, not knowing what to expect from him. I shivered at his pervasive stare and prepared myself for any kind of response of disappointment.

"Why not, Beverly? I loved it," He spit out his words with arrogance. He didn't sound disappointed or sad.

Even though his words were flattering I had to remain assertive and definite, I knew this could not be continued, no matter how much I wanted it.

"Because it's wrong!" I looked back and forth from the floor and up to Brandon who was still standing in front of me at a short distance.

The nervousness reached onto me again, a scene was the last thing I wanted to cause. But this situation got too far. I crossed the line as a nurse and made a mistake I could not repeat. I could never be sure what Brandon was going to say or do next, and that part made me nervous even though I was pretty certain that he at least would not hurt me.

"It didn't feel wrong," His manipulative, convincing words made it even harder for me to keep up with my own. In the very moment it didn't feel wrong either for me.

"I know, but it was,"

I walked over the small room to sit down on the chair beside the door, needing to rest my knees from the earlier tempting challenge. Brandon decided to follow my actions and sat down on the edge of his bed.

As he waited for me to say something, I watched every move he made with his mysterious appearance.

His long, black eyelashes flattered as he blinked his piercing brown eyes, his perfectly plump lips hydrated as he let his wet tongue slide over them, and the masculine, sharp jawline tensed as he gritted his teeth because of the intense, awkward silence between us in the cold and empty room.

Adjusting my position on the wooden chair, I sighed loudly and cleared my throat before I finally decided to break the silence as it was too torturous for the both of us.

"So, are you ready to tell me anything about your past yet?" The innocent-looking, but very guilty man in front of me moved his hand to claw his arm out of inconvenience. He looked surprised and I could understand why. The instant change of subject must have made him confused, as well uncomfortable.

Even if he wasn't ready to talk to me about it yet, it was about time. He already played his trust game against me and claimed he killed his victims because he had to. He even took one further step and actually kissed me, so I was more than worthy to get to know the truth now that he got so close to me.

"What do you want to know?" All emotions in Brandon's face disappeared and the common, broad grin took over his face.

It was just like he pressed a button inside his brain and changed personality in the blink of an eye. It was intimidating to watch.

"I want you to tell me what happened, and for what reason you killed your victims. You told me earlier that you had to do it. I want to know what you meant by that. Did somebody force you to it? In order for me to help you, I need you to speak to me," The constant reminder that the man in front of me was a brutal killer, was undoubtedly disturbing, but the thing that disturbed me the most was the genuine curiosity and sympathy I repeatedly found myself feeling around him.

None of my feelings should have been involved in this at all, the only reason I was even in here was to do my job, help my patient, and treat him with my professional aid and psychological instruments...

"Okay, Beverly... I'll speak to you,"

I couldn't really comprehend what he just said. Right after I brushed him off and told him that the kiss was wrong, he was just going to tell me everything about his past because I asked him?

I decided not to act surprised and just looked at him with a pleased face, showing him that I was the one getting what I wanted in here. Brandon bit his lip before he took one last breath, preparing himself to tell me the veracity of his rough and dramatic past.

"I was sixteen, just about to start stage five after summer. On a Saturday, July 31th, 1948 to be exact, my beloved stepfather decided to kill my mother and my siblings while I was at a friend's house. I found them dead on the fucking living room floor when I got home, and my stepfather was already gone by then. I was searching for him every day to get my revenge, but never succeeded in finding him. My little sister, Ruby was only three years old, and my brother Stephan was only seven... God damn it... About a year later, I decided to hunt down the people he cared about instead, since I couldn't find him anywhere...

Like the first family I killed, the woman in that family was my stepfather's ex-wife, and the children were his own. The pregnant woman I stabbed to death was his niece whom he loved more than his biological children. And the kid with the teddy bear, he was a foster child my stepfather used to take care of... I never planned to stop going after the people he cared about until he would show up with his ugly face to kill me as well, but he never did. That coward son of a bitch...

Then about six months after I killed that foster kid, the cops got me, and shortly after, in December 1950, I got in here for the first time. Then I was moved to prison, then back here again. Now a bit more than six years of being locked up, and after my third time in prison, here we are!"

While getting so emotionally touched, all pieces slowly began to fall into their place. Brandon's past made so much sense to his actions, no matter how brutal or rough they were.

It was heartrending to hear what he had been through, and even if the things he had done himself were absolutely obscene, I managed to find sympathy for him.

All of his actions were committed because of his monstrous stepfather. The poor boy found his own mother and siblings murdered when he was only sixteen years old, so it was a matter of course that he was traumatized and completely disrupted on the inside.

Nobody could blame him for that. There was no person strong enough to get through those things without turning out mentally unstable afterwards. Situations like that just made too much of a mark on the human brain, no matter the strength of mentality, and not least on a sixteen-year-old boy.

Even if it took a lot of a person to perpetrate such graphic things like the ones Brandon did, it was not always about psychopathy when there was an underlying motive like the one he had.

Once again I faced more evidence for my conclusion about Brandon and his diagnosis, which brought me one step closer to confronting it.

One part of me felt so happy about him sharing his dramatic past with me, while the other part was disturbed by the thoughts of the poor, young boy who got to suffer through all those rough things.

My biggest question was if he ever told anyone else about this. Brandon didn't really find it hard confessing his deeds, but the part where he had to open up and talk about his childhood and the ulterior motives, wasn't something you got out of him in the first place.

The fact that I was right about him probably not being a real psychopath made me feel proud for a moment. The poor man was just mentally destroyed, and deep inside he was capable of feeling actual and true feelings.

But what truly scared me the most about finding out, was that when it would become official that he was not a real psychopath, he would be sent right into prison again without further help, because his mentality wouldn't be considered problematic enough for such rough murderers without a diagnosis like that.