A Little Blue Light(Getting Over Philophobia: A Study)

3. Predator and Prey

Written to Loki Green Theme by Natalie Holt

Gavin is from Boston his pissy mood and little accent says so. I don't care what anyone else thinks.

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AM 01:06:47, NOV. 6, 2038.

You were completely still, frozen in... What was this? Fear? It didn't quite feel right.

Connor stared at you a moment longer before turning to face the murderer with a trace of a dark smile on his lips.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Small crescent shapes were dug into your palms from your nails.

"If you remain silent, there is nothing I can do to help you!" You involuntary shuddered at the warning that came through the glass, "You're gonna be shut down for good! You'll be dead! Do you hear me?! DEAD!"

He pecked and prodded at the deviant, tearing off more and more of its will with each bite.

"You're a machine! You were designed to obey, so OBEY." He slammed on the table roughly, making a small dent from where his hand was, "Tell me what happened!"

Jesus. This was terrifying, and you weren't even the one being interrogated. You didn't think it was possible to even have this much anger, much less from a machine of all things. It was probably all an act, but you had to wonder if there was something Connor was keeping inside him. A demon or two.

Gavin laughed next to you, "Heh... Looks like the plastic's getting a little upset."

"Gavin. Please. We're all tired. Just shut up for five seconds." You sighed without even looking at your partner. Yes, you were best friends with the guy, but he was a major dick.

"Woah! Sorry there. Didn't realize you were on their side now..." He said with a smug grin.

"It's not that just..."

"Just?"

"I'm two fucking seconds from losing it. Please. Just watch the fucking interrogation."

With a small "hmph" sound, you heard Gavin shuffle back to face the two-sided mirror.

"Okay then... Don't talk." Connor's arms made a wide motion, like a bird spreading its wings as he sat back in his chair, "What do I care after all?" A cocky grin appeared on his face, "Heh, I mean, I'm not the one accused of murder, right?"

Hank slouched in his chair, sliding his hands across his legs to warm them. "At this point, he's just grasping at straws." He sighed.

"Just give it time..." You muttered.

You rubbed your eyes and moved to a chair from your place against the wall. Almost immediately, your foot began to bounce. You chewed at your lip.

"You're so close, Connor... Keep going... You'll get the confession."

Connor quickly swept up the evidence folder and slammed it onto the table, pinning it down with his hand so hard the desk shook, "TWENTY. EIGHT. STAB WOUNDS." He stood up, the chair scraping across the floor, "Didn't want to leave him a chance, huh?"

He moved from the spot at the desk, circling the android like a vulture scavenging its food.

"Did you feel anger? Hate?"

The deviant's glossy eyes were no longer still. Its body began shaking.

You were reminded of yourself mere moments ago. You couldn't imagine having to be at the brunt of Connor's phycological torture.