"Why won't you speak?" He growled low. "Why are you just sitting there with that... that stupid smile on your face?" He watched the criminal's face carefully. Those dark eyes looked up at him mockingly, his smile widened sickeningly, and his hands continued that psychotic twitch. He slammed his hands on the table in frustration, yelling out grimly, "Damn it, you prick! Do you even realize what is happening? You are going to be the first prisoner in twenty-four years to be even considered for death row!"
"How exciting," he finally answered quite amusedly.
They stared at each other in utter silence. The tension in the air was thicker than liquid concrete, and it sent chills down his spine. On the table standing between them was a graveyard of photos with the faces of many missing men, all assumed to be dead. You'd expect a case like this would have boxes upon boxes of evidence as well, but no, there was hardly more then a few files of the victims. This case, all of it, was just a little too perfect.
"Just tell me why. Why did you do it all? Was it for justice, fame, pleasure?" he pressed farther.
"You know detective despite all these questions, you are a lot less nosey then your predecessor. I almost want to thank you for it."
The detective twitched at the nerve of the comment and heaved an annoyed sigh. He clenched his fists on the table until his knuckles turned white.
"What in the hell do we got to do to get you to talk?" the detective grunted.
The criminal cocked his head to one side, his expression never changing.
"Can I tell you a story, detective?"
This story is dedicated to my friend Blue who proposed to me the main concept of this book.
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How to Kill a Murderer
ActionLizzy Druid is a lonely college student in the middle of crime-infested New York City. Where is he going with his life, he doesn't know. Criminal psychology always seemed fun in those true crime shows, but now? Now he's ready to drop out as the info...
